That's what sons do: write to their mothers about recall, tell themselves about the past until they come to realize that they are the past.
Colum McCannNo shame in saying that I felt a loneliness drifting through me. Funny how it was, everyone perched in their own little world with the deep need to talk, each person with their own tale, beginning in some strange middle point, then trying so hard to tell it all, to have it all make sense, logical and final.
Colum McCann