A scribbled note to Philip...

The Strength of Tile-

From that same piece of luggage that I talked about earlier, the one that carried so much of all my mother had left when she was evicted from our apartment, losing everything. I found this scribbled note from Susanna to my brother Philip. I believe it was written during the time she was writing to my father, pleading for help (April 7th post, "Philip's soul begins to die..."). My brother had disappeared into the bowels of the lower east side, his drug use escalating as well as his homelessness. She was writing of her hope....still. She had cut out a magazine advert (of which the little boy in the advert reminded her of Philip) and stapled it to the note. Philip was eighteen.

Remember-While working two, sometimes three jobs, she would spend hours and months desperately trying to turn our little apartment into a home. This note, I think, reflects (in small part) her fallen dreams, fantasies and anguish.



"Philip--I saved this a long time ago to give to you. I wrote all over it and didn't get over my meaning--but (crudely) meant to imply (that) I wanted tile for our entrance hall but couldn't afford it. I know you hated those (yellow) slickers but you were seen in the traffic, and I meant it because tile was strong and you know I have always wanted everything strong and pure and good..."


"...for you and Michael too. It's terrible to try and explain a poetic and true feeling, & mess the whole thing up! I will love you always, no matter what--Michael too, but things there are pretty messed up & he's very nervous. Love Always, Mommy"

From April 1 post--


"1970-
Remember the three cats; Santutso, Mariya and Poco? I always had a special fondness for Santutso especially after I spotted him perched on the toilet peeing proudly in its bowl. I guess male cats have been known to do this. What a sight!"

"Besides the porcelain bowl, Santutso had his way with his two sisters, by the time the Lamparski book (below) was published in 1970 Santutso had propagated (with Mariya and Poco) twenty some –odd watered down brothers and sisters/sons and daughters, nieces and nephews and cousins (of course). Along with Barney, mommy’s caboose…who was also very bitter by this time, Philip and I couldn’t go near him, except for his walk, although he didn’t get very much of that anyway… we all lived together in 3H, our one bedroom flat that mom had worked so hard to make a home. Two eternally overflowing cat-boxes, hardened and infiltrated dog/cat urine/feces decorating the kitty box perimeters on the once white and new shag carpet (Shagadelic?) Forget the perimeters, it was everywhere. My affection for cats remains to this day (in spite of) but I can never forget how a cuddly purr, and furry affection can lead to their insidious potential to propagate, infiltrate and overwhelm (much like humanity)."