![]() Am I dead? Though this question at no time explicitly translates into Should I be dead, eventually the suicide hotline is called. Or one begins asking oneself that same question differently. Inevitably we get older whoever is still with us says, Stop asking me that. And the misinformed would claim, I never said he was dead. I would turn and say-one always turns to say-You said he was dead. Months later the actor would show up on some latenight talk show to promote his latest efforts. If it were an old, black-and-white film, whoever was around would answer yes. ![]() When he returned he spoke neither about the airplane nor the funeral.Įvery movie I saw while in the third grade compelled me to ask, Is he dead? Is she dead? Because the characters often live against all odds it is the actors whose mortality concerned me. Or, to be more precise, he looked to me like someone understanding his aloneness. ![]() I climbed the steps as far away from him as I could get. He had a look that was unfamiliar it was flooded, so leaking. Then I returned home from school one day and saw my father sitting on the steps of our home. The years went by and people only died on television-if they weren't Black, they were wearing black or were terminally ill. ![]() Did she shrug? She was the kind of woman who liked to shrug deep within her was an everlasting shrug. She went to the hospital to give birth and returned without the baby. When I was eight my mother became pregnant. There was a time I could say no one I knew well had died. ![]()
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