The last time I saw Linda was in September 1977. On a lark, I decided toattend the marriage of her eldest daughter. Seated in the back of the church,I...could indulge in observing the proceedings without fear of being noticed.Both mother and daughter were radiant, glowing with an inner feminine blissthat made my heart ache. I was as happy for them as I've ever been foranybody in my entire life - and so miserable that I wanted to die.I left, in tears, halfway through the service. After that, I. I had friends, but shared little with them beyond the pleasures of chasing after a ball, and kicking it into a net. My teachers permitted my silent, private nature. My parents gave me gentle affection and respect; feeding my body in the dining room, my heart in the music room, my mind in the library.Time flew by; I read books from higher shelves. I played more complex music, mastering a multiple tempo piece, four four by my left hand, three four by my right. I was pleased with my life, and. More

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