O my: what a darling man. And how I
miss him. With "Sometimes a Great Notion," Paul Newman, nearly the same
age, reminds me of my own father, AmTaham True. Caring and so generous,
this: “I know now that all of Herod Edinsmaier’s hatred of AmTaham
was borne out of Dr. Edinsmaier’s own incredible narcissistic need for
attention and his quenchless insecurities. AmTaham simply threatened
the beYesus out of Herry. True it was and couldn’t have been truer:
AmTaham was not rich in material fortune and booty – loot treasure and
was never going to be.
From off of the same scripted page as the
bumpkin idiot hayseed comment of his, Dr. Edinsmaier deplored what he
considered to be a coming ‘fact’ in his future: that he, Herry, because
he was married to me, would have to be responsible in some financial
way, let alone, in actual physical elder care, for both Mehitable and
AmTaham in their old, old age. And that thinking of his, that this
actual work of taking care of his in – laws would, in some manner, be
his fate even before AmTaham or Mehitable were in any way at all either
physically or financially incapacitated, vexed Herry no end.
While
AmTaham was never going to roll in the dough, he did embody everything
else –– and did so with such ease, grace and honor –– that Herry himself
was never, ever going to be. Simply for starters, AmTaham was gorgeous
even as an older man and, finally, an old man. And, as you can imagine
then, too, as a young suitor of my mother and soldier in uniform or
garbed in his usual rugged livery of blue jeans, flannel shirt and denim
barn coat, AmTaham was a stunner.
As a three – year – old and a 13 –
year – old and a 33 – year – old, I thought AmTaham True the awesomest
composition of adult human maleness ever, ever orchestrated. He was
tall, 6’2”. His were the always, always completely uncovered coal
shocks of thick, slightly wavy, long black hair, the chiseled and ruddy
cheekbones, the magnificent nose and the confident countenance and
bravura of a true Ancestor in the making. AmTaham True.” excerpt from
Mother – Fucking , chapter 18: “The Company One’s Mind Keeps,” p 122
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