Photography Thinks
Sharon. Never be afraid of your lines or sagging. Don’t fear wrinkles or varicose veins. Don’t lose that spirit to live that looms so large that there is enough for you and still a little left over for me. Without you, life would be so empty and not worth living. You make me want to get up in the morning.
Our dear friend Howard Kane sent this orchid arrangement to Sharon. Lovely. Just lovely.
Not that Thanksgiving was ever one of my favorite holidays, but today’s Thanksgiving hurts more than any and means less. The deaths in Israel and Gaza of innocent people, old and young alike, leaves me bereft. I grieve mightily for the losses on both sides and the absence of dignity and purpose in the entire affair.
My heart breaks for the living, as well as the dead, parents, siblings, friends, associates. I cannot imagine what it feels like to have lost someone or not to know if someone was lost. The sorrow and sadness keeps me awake at night, despite feeling personally safe and despite not personally knowing anyone who died. I see the destruction in my dreams and hear the cries. I can smell the fetid air and taste the pollution on my tongue. No one feels safe and everyone knows it.
I know the pain of isolation and aloneness, the despair of not having family or friends, of being hated. I never learned to hate, though I did learn to be hated. I learned love through my wife. No god ever shined countenance on me or gave me peace and no hater ever said they were sorry or tried to renew a friendship or family relationship. My life was destroyed, but I got to leave with my head up, some trinkets and a spouse. Where do they go and with whom.
Stripped of my career, legacy and heritage, I was left only with my self-esteem and a loving, caring wife. At least I had that. What will they have: more fear of annihalition, complete destruction, obliteration. Who will care for them in sickness and in health? Who will they trust to protect them?
No one will come to our table to share a harvest feast. We don’t eat turkey or tell the story of the Native American Wampanoag people. There will be no arguments about who made the best stuffing or gravy and no collapses on the couch to watch football games. Just some Osso Bucco and a glass or two of red “whine”.
I can only hope that tomorrow some hostages on both sides are released.
When people ask how long we have been married, I always say, “not long enough.” Without her, I would be a homeless person. Ageless. I cannot live without her, adoring even the difficult moments.
When I was suspended from the bench, preceding my removal and the end of my judicial career, I tried to go back to work after spending 7 months with her, full time. People asked how I felt, not really caring, but out of politeness. I said, “…, frankly I miss the time I got to spend with my wife.”
We moved and stayed together. We have moved a few more times and stayed together. Now we have sickness and injury. We live in a place we don’t like and doesn’t like us, and we are still together.
So, Sharon stepped wrong going for a backhand. Tendonitis. Me, flipper fingers. Podiatrist wrapped her foot. Hand doctor put me out, cut and sutured. Seems like we are always at one doctor’s office or another. What would we do without health care? What do others do?
So, some of you may know Theodore, Sharon’s bear from childhood. He used to come to court with me, riding in my brief case. Judge Archie Gorfinkel signed the adoption papers at our wedding. He always has a positive attitude and strong opinions about life, love and the pursuit of happiness. He has been a part of Sharon’s life, forever.
All that violence; all that hatred.
Sharon has that look that she gave Bob Mueller. You can tell what she is thinking. No such thing as the truth in politics or photography.
Me? Don’t guess. I will never forget, but today, who knows if I remember.
Fuck yeh, Sharon cares.
So, we went out to a chi chi French restaurant, had wine and martinis and then came home to do a shoot. I rely on a tripod in times like this.
As for my abounding love for Sharon, I am ever committed to satisfying her anniversary toast, “…, and give me 15 more years.” I will try.
I love smart women.