Winter 2012 • Vol. XXXIV No. 1 NonfictionJanuary 1, 2012 |

Kayak Morning*

Reflections on Love, Grief, and Small Boats Two and a half years after our thirty-eight-year-old daughter, Amy, died of an undetected anomalous right coronary artery, I have taken up kayaking. They say that people in grief become more like themselves. I have always been a loner, so going out in a kayak suits my temperament. It also offers a solitude that is rare for me these days, because when Amy died, my wife, Ginny, and I moved into her house in Bethesda, Maryland, to help our son-in-law, Harris, care for their three small children, Jessica, Sammy, and James. We spend nearly all our time in Bethesda but we have also kept our home in Quogue, a summer village on the south shore of Long Island. It is not far from Stony Brook University where I teach English and writing. I commute between Bethesda and Quogue from September to June, and from June to September, whenever time allows, I go kayaking in Quogue. Our oldest son, Carl, and his wife, Wendy, also have three children, An

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Roger Rosenblatt
Roger Rosenblatt's most recent book is the novel, Thomas Murphy. He is the recipient of the 2015 Kenyon Review Award for Literary Achievement.

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