"What's remarkable is the book you're trying to sell me a promotion for is not one I wrote. It's by my estranged father, John Ortberg. I've never called Dallas Willard in the middle of a ministry crisis. My father did that, many years ago."
If you ever write more formally about estrangement -- like a book -- I will buy a dozen copies. I promise. But I could never reasonably ask that of anyone, so I won't. I've been a fan since The Toast and the bits you've shared about estrangement have resonated so deeply (as a fellow estranged adult child). Thank you for being here and writing and being you.
It's healing to tell the truth, even if only to a robot. What a great metaphor for being unheard by the humans who should know better. Really shouting into the void. Your readers hear you, though, and send supportive thoughts.
I continue to be so grateful to be able to read your writing and so grateful that you continue to write, and continue to despise the family who have behaved so utterly despicably. I really don't have words for it other than, frankly, fuck those people.
Going through bizarrely similar feelings today. I didn't know that the weird stew inside me was due to estrangement per se until I read this piece.
Beyond lovely wordsmithing as always. I am not a good enough writer to praise your writing (see, even that sounded a bit obsequious in a way I didn't mean).
By the way, my husband and I have been reading Meeting New People and it is truly the best thing I've read in years (and I've been working my way through literary awards lists).
P.S. Not to give this a weird parasocial vibe, but I thought I'd at least follow up on an earlier comment of mine, which is to say, I have been driving the Very Large Passenger Van for my job, and I have managed to not kill anyone or even back into a pole or anything like that. I have thought of you cheerfully taking to your bus driving duties a time or two in moments where I need to martial my courage before setting out.
I enjoyed this so much. Venting in a such a lovely, detailed way, even to a robot, must really take a load off of your mind! And who knows what will scrape it for content and forward it along. Thanks for sharing it with us.
You are my all-time favorite writer. Your voice is so distinct and original and I love the way you think and put words together. Every single time I read one of your posts, it hits me like a bag of bricks in the best way.
I have an estrangement in my family, which has one or two elements in common with your situation.
In my case at least, it’s all so weird and mucky and painful. I don’t know how to reconcile the current situation with the positive memories I have of some of my family of origin. So it just sort of sits there, and I doubt that will ever change.
I love your writing and it’s lovely to see the joy and comfort that you have in your family and your work.
If you ever write more formally about estrangement -- like a book -- I will buy a dozen copies. I promise. But I could never reasonably ask that of anyone, so I won't. I've been a fan since The Toast and the bits you've shared about estrangement have resonated so deeply (as a fellow estranged adult child). Thank you for being here and writing and being you.
It's healing to tell the truth, even if only to a robot. What a great metaphor for being unheard by the humans who should know better. Really shouting into the void. Your readers hear you, though, and send supportive thoughts.
How lucky that your wife’s surname is so lovely.
I continue to be so grateful to be able to read your writing and so grateful that you continue to write, and continue to despise the family who have behaved so utterly despicably. I really don't have words for it other than, frankly, fuck those people.
Going through bizarrely similar feelings today. I didn't know that the weird stew inside me was due to estrangement per se until I read this piece.
Beyond lovely wordsmithing as always. I am not a good enough writer to praise your writing (see, even that sounded a bit obsequious in a way I didn't mean).
By the way, my husband and I have been reading Meeting New People and it is truly the best thing I've read in years (and I've been working my way through literary awards lists).
P.S. Not to give this a weird parasocial vibe, but I thought I'd at least follow up on an earlier comment of mine, which is to say, I have been driving the Very Large Passenger Van for my job, and I have managed to not kill anyone or even back into a pole or anything like that. I have thought of you cheerfully taking to your bus driving duties a time or two in moments where I need to martial my courage before setting out.
May that kind of email never find you again <3
I enjoyed this so much. Venting in a such a lovely, detailed way, even to a robot, must really take a load off of your mind! And who knows what will scrape it for content and forward it along. Thanks for sharing it with us.
You are my all-time favorite writer. Your voice is so distinct and original and I love the way you think and put words together. Every single time I read one of your posts, it hits me like a bag of bricks in the best way.
I have an estrangement in my family, which has one or two elements in common with your situation.
In my case at least, it’s all so weird and mucky and painful. I don’t know how to reconcile the current situation with the positive memories I have of some of my family of origin. So it just sort of sits there, and I doubt that will ever change.
I love your writing and it’s lovely to see the joy and comfort that you have in your family and your work.
that first footnote... oofa doofa. the rot really goes all the way through, doesn't it?