Thirty years ago today
On Tuesday Nancy said her father would bring my daughter to meet me at the Warden subway station. After waiting about an hour, I called Nancy. When he did come at least he had the stuff that I’d left at their place: My glasses, my slides, my negatives, my contact sheets, my letters to Whitefeather, and Brenda’s Saudi Arabian diary.
I’d been taking a few photos of the baby at my place, mostly at the front door. She had begun to clap her hands, she’d learned how to make my clock talk, she liked to lift the blinds to look out the window, and to open and close the door.
I don’t remember when I brought her back to her mother.
No matter how much I cleaned, my place was still dirty. I thought I needed a woman who was all love and zero ambition to do my housekeeping.
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