Comments on: unspeakable

By: Jenn

Jenn — Wed, 12 Mar 2008 09:50:46 +0000

This post struck me in so many ways; the fluid, the thinking, “this is nothing, this must be nothing, this will be a funny story someday”, the danger of the words unsaid.

I’ve had a post in my mind for months now, where I suggest that just one day, we speak the words hovering around us, rather than letting them pass in the night.

I wish I had the right words, Bon, but I don’t believe that I do. I’m so glad to have found you and I feel your pain and I wish you peace, somehow, somewhere.

By: trish

trish — Wed, 12 Mar 2008 08:01:40 +0000

When you write posts like this, so full of meaning and emotion, I’m blown away. Then I go back to my website, look at the frivilous crap I’ve written, and think how lucky I’ve been. But then even though my stories aren’t as heartbreaking, I still don’t tell them. It’s like I have a wall of silence up with a happy face painted on the outside and I admire how brave it is to pull down that wall and share the truth.

By: Georgia

Georgia — Wed, 12 Mar 2008 02:55:19 +0000

So often I read your Blog Bon and just want to let you know I’ve read it, even though I feel I have nothing to ‘comment’ as your emotional world is leagues apart from mine. I am not empathetic (I try, but I never seem to be able to make that move from sympathy to empathy, maybe it comes back to the S vs N thing?) and I have nothing that is even vaguely in the ball park of what you have suffered. But, I still want you to know I’ve read it, so if my comments seem to focus on the non-horrific parts of your story it is not that I don’t care, just that that is what I can relate to and in order to help you with the horrific I really need to give you a hug. And I can’t.

By: Amanda

Amanda — Wed, 12 Mar 2008 02:50:49 +0000

Beautiful Bon, and I wish I had the words to not make it hurt so much, Like you did for me one desperately sad night you were there to virtually hug me…Thank-you

I’m sending my hugs to you now, and Dave and Oscar for the brother he can never hug, and to Finn, because I love him too, and how he lives through you.

As a full time substitute teacher…I get the humour too.

By: niobe

niobe — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 18:32:43 +0000

because even if it is unspeakable, it is yours to tell and there is perhaps more harm in the silence

I don’t know. Some stories are nothing more than silence.

By: Julie Pippert

Julie Pippert — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 16:02:18 +0000

When I read your story here, I want to step into the moment and shake the u/s tech, I want to do something. (That’s my problem.)

Tragedy and comedy, greatest strength and weakness, hero with a tragic flaw.

Leave it to your magical gift of narrative to create such a bittersweet tale of this.

By: binkytown

binkytown — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 14:11:13 +0000

Only you can take a story like this and tell it like….this. It is funny, funny in that crazy way that things are funny because it’s so sad that if you didn’t try and find that sliver of insanity -that it happened in front of a whole classroom of ingrates- that it would be too much to bear.

By: nomotherearth

nomotherearth — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 04:00:20 +0000

some words need to be spoken, no matter how hard. thank you for sharing.

By: Awake

Awake — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 01:54:40 +0000

I think you’re right – there can be more harm in silence. And this is Finn’s story – complete with its comedy and ultimate tragedy. I think you done good by telling it (I actually had a very educated person use the phrase “you done good” recently ~ passing it on).
***
And congrats on the recent ultrasound.

By: radical mama

radical mama — Mon, 10 Mar 2008 23:59:45 +0000

oh, bon. I wish it could have been a funny story.