tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8068873.post5932924770715789215..comments2024-03-20T19:40:58.078-05:00Comments on The OF Blog: One of the more heartfelt stories involving literature I have read this yearLarry Nolenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16001420558511460998noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8068873.post-68803900078106116882008-12-27T11:49:00.000-06:002008-12-27T11:49:00.000-06:00I agree totally. On a lighter note, I was thinkin...I agree totally. On a lighter note, I was thinking earlier about how a shared love of <I>The Little Prince</I> has led to a wealth of shared comments between me and a ladyfriend of mine that would be only barely comprehensible to others who hadn't been exposed to that wonderful tale.Larry Nolenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16001420558511460998noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8068873.post-31667796225409850742008-12-27T11:19:00.000-06:002008-12-27T11:19:00.000-06:00Our personal moments can appear odd to some, but t...Our personal moments can appear odd to some, but that makes them all the more human. Don't you think?Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8068873.post-14443516008337170672008-12-27T10:04:00.000-06:002008-12-27T10:04:00.000-06:00It always amazes me just how powerful of a connect...It always amazes me just how powerful of a connection we can form with books (or other forms of storytelling) when there is something inside them that relates to our own griefs, sorrows, or joys. It is always good to have something comforting like that, no? Thanks for sharing what had to have been a personal moment with me, Mary.Larry Nolenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16001420558511460998noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8068873.post-90745716543426792982008-12-27T09:11:00.000-06:002008-12-27T09:11:00.000-06:00I found this artical a few weeks ago. I didn't cry...I found this artical a few weeks ago. I didn't cry, but I acknowledged the association with a little throat tightness. A similar thing happened to me after my son was killed in a car accident 5 years ago. He was 16. Amid all the funereral chaos, someone pointed me toward the novelist, Jim Harrison, who used to live in my home town in Michigan. I picked up "Dalva," and after reading the passage about Crazy Horse grieving for his daughter (climbing the burial scaffolding to embrace her), I became obsessed. From there, I read everything I could find by JH as well as many of the books he mentions in his works. Including Mari Sandoz "Crazy Horse: Strange Man of the Oglalas," the one that finally opened the flood gates of my grief (diamond hard and several feet thick). Now, both Jim Harrisin and Crazy Horse are mixed in with my memories of that period.<BR/><BR/>Mary C from NCAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com