I did not have a happy childhood. Enough
said. But one of my earliest memories of joy was getting an aquarium. Partly,
it was having my own “pets;” partly it was the private ecstasy of being alone
with them in the dark of my bedroom after my parents had gone to bed. I would
turn the aquarium light on and it would glow like a pod from space in a science
fiction movie. I’d watch the fish with the same hypnotic and delicious
meditative fascination as I watched flame flicker in the fire.
My fish took me to another world. I loved
their elegant movements and their gorgeous colour. And I loved how they would
come to the top or the front of the tank when I’d approach. They’d think I was
going to feed them but it made me love them for acknowledging me. I felt we had
a relationship of trust and love.
I think that is why I have taken so
strongly to fish again. I am feeling all those joys again. But yesterday when
Liberace was stressed, I was too. We’ve been through a lot together and I want
him to enjoy his fine new sixty-gallon home. I was thrilled to see him relax
later in the day.
What a treat it has been letting this
passion flow.
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