Showing posts with label writings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writings. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Family Finds Letters From 6-Year-Old After Cancer Claims Her

CINCINNATI -- A young girl who lost her battle against cancer is continuing to inspire people well after her death thanks to the letters she left behind.

Six-year-old Elena Desserich’s life was turned upside down when she was diagnosed with brain cancer.

Her family said that at the beginning, they were told to expect that Elena would only have about 135 days to live.

During her final days, the girl began writing letters to her family and hid them all over their home.

“She would tuck them into bookcases, tuck them into dishes, china you don't touch every year and you'd lift it up and there'd be a note in it,” Keith Desserich, Elena’s father, said.

Her father also wrote during their last few months. He kept an online journal of their battle that soon came to have a following.

"Before we knew it, we had 12,000 people a day who were reading this,” Desserich said.

Now he’s turned the collection of memories into a book titled “Notes Left Behind, 135 Days with Elena.”

The Desserich’s said that Elena left behind hundreds of notes all over the house.

The family is hoping to pass on their daughter’s strength and courage.

“They [readers] should take the time to listen and not get caught up in the days rush,” Desserich said. “To this day, I'll never forget that lesson. Wish I would've learned it earlier.”

The book will go on sale this weekend. The Desserich’s will be signing books at the Kenwood Barnes and Noble store starting at 2 p.m.

All the proceeds will go toward cancer research.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Nietzsche Selections

In reading Friedrich Nietzsche for my online course I stumbled upon a few lines I found very interesting:

"All this is interesting, to excess, but also of a gloomy, black, unnerving sadness, so that one must forcibly forbid oneself to gaze too long into these abysses. Here is sickness, beyond any doubt, the most terrible sickness that has ever raged in man; and whoever can still bear to hear (but today one no longer has ears for this!) how in this night of torment and absurdity there has resounded the cry of love, the cry of the most nostalgic rapture, of redemption through love, will turn away, seized by invisible horror.- There is so much in man that is hideoues!-Too long, the earth has been a madhouse!-"


"There is among men as in every other animal species an excess of failures, of the sick, degenerating, infirm, who suffer necessarily; the successful cases are, among men too, always the exception- and in view of the fact that man is the as yet undetermined animal, the rare exception. But still worse: the higher the type of man that a man represents, the greater the improbability that he will turn out well. The accidental, the law of absurdity in the whole economy of mankind, manifests itself most horribly in its destructive effect on the higher men whose complicated conditions of life can only be calculated with great subtlety and difficulty.

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

Kurt Vonnegut: Miss Temptation

In this rather short story written by Kurt Vonnegut, Fuller is a eighteen month veteran of war who comes home to a small town and encounters a “temptress” in their local drugstore. The temptress is Susannah, who is a young struggling actress staying in town awhile.
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Miss Temptation
Fuller felt his lips move, heard the words come out.
“Who do you think you are?” he said to Susanna.
“I beg your pardon?” said Susanna. She drew her newspapers about herself protectively.
“I saw you come down the street like you were a circus parade, and I just wondered who you thought you were,” said Fuller.
Susanna blushed gloriously. “I-I’m an actress,” she said.
“You can say that again,” said Fuller. “Greatest actresses in the world, American women.”
“You’re very nice to say so,” said Susanna uneasily.
Fuller’s skin glowed brighter and hotter. His mind had become a fountain of apt, intricate phrases. “I’m not talking about theaters with seats in ‘em. I’m talking about the stage of life. American women act and dress like they’re gonna give you the world. Then, when you stick out your hand, they put an ice cube in it.”
“They do?” said Susanna emptily.
“They do,” said Fuller, “and it’s about time somebody said so.” He looked challengingly from spectator to spectator and found what he took to be dazed encouragement. “It isn’t fair,” he said.
“What isn’t?” said Susanna, lost.
……....................................................
He stood. “Miss,” he said, his voice full of pain, “you do everything you can to give lonely, ordinary people like me indigestion and the heeby-jeebies, and you wouldn’t even hold hands with me to keep me from falling off a cliff.”
He strode to the door. All eyes were on him. Hardly anyone noticed that his indictment had reduced Susanna to ashes of what she’d been moments before. Susanna now looked like what she really was-a muddle-headed nineteen-year-old clinging to a tiny corner of sophistication.
“It isn’t fair,” said Fuller. “there ought to be a law against girls acting and dressing like you do. It makes more people unhappy than it does happy. You know what I say to you, for going around making everybody want to kiss you?”
“No,” piped Susanna, every fuse in her nervous system blown.
I say to you what you’d say to me, if I was to try and kiss you,” said Fuller grandly. He swung his arms in an umpire’s gesture for “out.” “The hell with you,” he said. He left, slamming the screen door.

He didn’t look back when the door slammed again a moment later, when the patter of running bare feet and the wild tinkling of little bells faded away in the direction of the firehouse.

Monday, June 4, 2007

Kurt Vonnegut: Long Walk to Forever

Long Walk to Forever

They had grown up next door to each other,on the fringe of a city,near fields and woods and orchards,within sight of a lovely bell tower that belonged to a school for the blind.
Now they were twenty,had not seen each other for nearly a year.There had always been playful,comfortable warmth between them,but never any talk of love.

His name was Newt.Her name was Catharine.In the early afternoon,Newt knocked on Catharine's front door.

Catharine came to the door.She was carrying a fat,glossy magazine she had been reading.The magazine was devoted entirely to brides."Newt!" she said.She was sur- prised to see him.

"Could you come for a walk?" he said.He was a shy person,even with Catharine. He covered his shyness by speaking absently,as though he were a secret agent pausing briefly on a mission between beautiful,distant,and sinister points.This manner of speaking had always been Newt's style,even in matters that concerned him desperately.

"A walk?" said Catharine.

"One foot in front of the other,"said Newt,"Through leaves,over bridges--"

"I had no idea you were in town,"she said.

"Just this minute got in,"he said.

"Still in the Army,I see,"she said.

"Seven more months to go,"he said.He was a private first class in the Artillery. His uniform was rumpled.His shoes were dusty.He needed a shave.He held out his hand for the magazine."Let's see the pretty book,"he said.

She gave it to him."I'm getting married,Newt,"she said.

"I know," he said."Let's go for a walk."

"I'm awfully busy,Newt,"she said."The wedding is only a week away."

"If we go for a walk," he said,"it will make you rosy.It will make you a rosy bride."He turned the pages of the magazine."A rosy bride like her--like her--like her," he said,showing her rosy brides.

Catharine turned rosy,thinking about rosy brides.

"That will be my person to Henry Stewart Chasens," said Newt."By talking you for a walk,I'll be giving him a rosy bride."

"You know his name?" said Catharine.

"Mother wrote,"he said."Form Pittsburgh?"

"Yes,"she said."You'd like him."

"Maybe," he said.

"Can--can you come to the wedding,Newt?" she said.

"That I doubt."he said.

"Your furlough isn't for long enough?"she said.

"Furlough?"said Newt.He was studying a twopage ad for flat silver."I'm not on furlough,"he said.

"Oh?" she said.

"I'm what they call A.W.O.L.," said Newt.

"Oh,Newt!You're not!" she siad.

"Sure I am,"he said,still looking at the magazine.

"Why,Newt?" she said.

"I had to find out what your silver pattern is,"he said.He read names of silver pat- terns from the magazine."Albermarle?Heather?"he said."Legend?Rambler Rose?" He looked up,smile."I plan to give you and your husband a spoon,"he said.

"Newt,Newt--tell me really,"she said.

"I want to go for a walk,"he said.

She wrung her hands in sisterly anguish."Oh,Newt--you're fooling me about be- ing A.W.O.L.,"she said.

Newt imitated police siren softly,raised his eyebrows.

"Where--where from?" she said.

"Fort Bragg," he said.

"North Carolina?" she said.

"That all right,"he said."Near Fayetteville--where Scarlett O'Hara went to school."

"How did you get here,Newt?" she said.

He raised his thumb,jerked it in a hitchhike gesture."Two days," he said.

"Dose your mother know?"she said.

"I didn't come to see my mother,"he told her.

"Who did you come to see?" she said.

"You," he said.

"Why me?"she said.

"Because I love you,"he said."Now can we take a walk?"he said."One foot in front of the other--through leaver,over bridges--"

They were talking the walk now,were in a woods with a brown-leaf floor.

Catharine was angry and rattled,close to tears."Newt,"she said,"this is absolutely crazy."

"HOw so?"said Newt.

"What a crazy time to tell me you love me,"she said."You never talked that way before."She stopped walking.

"Let's keep walking,"he said.

"No,"she said."So far,no farther.I shouldn't have come out with you at all,"she said.

"You did,"he said.

"To get you out of the house,"she said."If somebody walked in and heard you talk- ing to me that way,a week before the wedding--"

"What would they think?"he said.

"They'd think you were crazy,"she said.

"Why?"he said.

Catharine took a deep breath,made a speech."Let me say that I'm deeply honored by this crazy thing you've done,"she said."I can't believe you're really A.W.O.L., but maybe you are.I can't believe you really love me,but maybe you do.But--"

"I do,"said Newt.

"Well,I'm deeply honored,"said Catharine,"and I'm very fond of you as a friend,Newt,extremely fond--but it's just too late."She took a step away from him. "You've never even kissed me,"she said,and she protected herself with her hands."I don't mean you should do it now.I just mean this is all so unexpected.I haven't got the remotest idea of how to respond."

"Just walk some more,"he said."Have a nice time."

They started walking again.

"How did you expect me to react?" she said.

"How would I know what to expect?"he said."I've never done anything like this before."

"Did you think I would throw myself into you arms?"she said.

"Maybe,"he said.

"I'm sorry to disappointed you,"she said.

"I'm not disappointed,"he said."I wasn't counting on it.This is very nice,just walking."

Catharine stopped again."You know what happens next?"she said.

"Nope,"he said.

"We shake hands,"she said."We shake hands and part friends,"she said."That's what happens next."

Newt nodded."All right,"he said."Remember me from time to time.Remember how much I love you."

Involuntarily,Catharine burst into tears.She turned her back to Newt,looked into the infinite colonnade of the woods.

"what does that mean?"said Newt.

"Rage!"said Catharine.she clenched her hands."You have no right--"

"I had to find out,"he said.

"If I'd loved you,"she said,"I would have let you know before now."

"You would?"he said.

"Yes,"she said.She faced him,looked up at him,her face quite red."You would have known,"she said.

"How?"he said.

"You would have seen it,"she said."Would aren't very clever at hiding it."

Newt looked closely at Catharine's face now.To her distress,she realized that what she had said was true,that a woman couldn't hide love.

Newt was seeing love now.

And he did what he had to do.He kissed her.

"You're hell to get along with!"she said when Newt let her go.

"I am?"said Newt.

"You shouldn't have done that,"she said.

"You didn't like it?"he said.

"What did you expect,"she said--"wild,abandoned passion?"

"I keep telling you,"he said,"I never know what's going to happen next."

"We say good-by,"she said.

He frowned slightly."All right,"he said.

she made another speech."I'm not sorry we kissed,"she said."That was sweet.We should have kissed,we've been so close.I'll always remember you,Newt,and good luck."

"You too,"he said.

"Thank you,Newt,"she said.

"Thirty days,"he said.

"What?"she said.

"Thirty days in the stockade,"he said--"that's what one kiss will cost me."

"I--I'm sorry,"she said,"but I didn't ask you to go A.W.O.L."

"I know,"he said.

"You certainly don't deserve any hero's reward for doing something as foolish as that,"she said.

"Must be nice to be a hero,"said Newt."Is Henry Stewart Chasens a hero?"

"He might be,if he got the chance,"said Catharine.She noted uneasily that they had begun to walk again.That farewell had been forgotten.

"You really love him?"he said.

"Certainly I love him!"she said hotly."I would not marry him if I didn't love him!"

"What's good about him?"said Newt.

"Honestly!"she cried,stopping again."Do you have any idea how offensive you're being?Many,many,many things are good about Henry!Yes,"she said,"and many, many,many things are probably bad too.But that isn't any of your business.I love Henry,and I don't have to argue his merits with you!"

"Sorry,"said Newt.

"Honestly!"said Catharine.

Newt kissed her again.He kissed her again because she wanted him to.

They were now in a large orchard.

"How did we get so far from home,Newt?"said Catharine.

"One foot in front of the other--through leaves,over bridges,"said Newt.

"They add up--the steps,"she said.

Bells rang in the tower of the school for the blind nearby.

"School for the blind,"said Newt.

"School for the blind,"said Catharine.She shook her head in drowsy wonder."I've got to go back now,"she said.

"Say good-by,"said Newt.

"Every time I do,"said Carharine,"I seem to get kissed."

Newt sat down on the close-cropped grass under an apple tree."Sit down,"he said.

"No,"she said.

"I won't touch you,"he said.

"I don't believe you,"she said.

She sat down under another tree,twenty feet away from him.She closed her eyes.

"Dream of Henry Stewart Chasens,"he said.

"What?"she said.

"Dream of your wonderful husband-to-be,"he said.

"All right,I will,"she said.She closed her eyes tighter,caught glimpses of her hus- band-to-be.

Newt yawned.

The bees were humming in the trees,and Catharine almost fell asleep.When she opened her eyes she saw that Newt really was asleep.

He began to snore softly.

Catharine let Newt sleep for an hour,and while he slept she adored him with all her heart.

The shadows of the apple trees grew to the east.The bells in the tower of the school for the blind rang again.

"Chick-a-dee-dee-dee,"went a chickadee.

Somewhere far away an automobile starter nagged and failed,nagged and failed, fell still.

Catharine came out from under her tree,knelt by Newt.

"Newt?"she said.

"H'm?"he said,He opened his eyes.

"Late,"she said.

"Hello,Catharine,"he said.

"Hello,Newt,"she said.

"I love you,"he said.

"I know,"she said.

"Too late,"she said.

He stood,stretched groaningly."A very nice walk."he said.

"I thought so,"she said.

"Part company here?"he said.

"Where will you go?"she said.

"Hitch into town,turn myself in,"he said.

"Good luck,"she said.

"You too,"he said."Marry me,Catharine?"

"No,"she said.

He smiled,stared at her hard for a moment,then walked away quickly.

Catharine watched him grow smaller in the long perspective of shadows and trees, knew that if he stopped and turned now,if he called to her,she would run to him.She would have no choice.

Newt did stop.He did turn.He did call."Catharine,"he called.

She ran to him,put her arms around him,could not speak.