Dec. 16th, 2018

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Frankie's second appearance, in Steinbeck's Cannery Row, is towards the end of the book. And it's absolutely heartbreaking.

As a minor piece, within the larger narrative, it's heartbreaking.

But then, I sensed that there was something more. To the heartbreak, that is. And it took me a minute to figure it out.

I realized, in that moment, that Frankie is my grandson. That Frankie is Jason and Jason is Frankie.

Not, you know, down to their fingerprints and hair follicles, their DNA. But in some of their responses, some of their behaviors.

In some of their heartfelt moments and some of their psychopathologies. Which can sometimes, I suppose, be one in the same.

In any case, I find myself grieving for both of them, but in different ways.

Because one of them is a masterful fiction, and will live forever, and the other is not. And so will not. Live forever, I mean.

Except, you know, in my heart. For as long as I may live...

LPK
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12.16.2018 

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