I remember going to the zoo when I was young and having my parents tell me about how they had come to see Emily when they were my age. Now, some fifty years after them, I find myself at the zoo telling my child how I used to visit her when I was his age, and how his grandparents used to visit her when they were his age. It seems like such a strange thing to say, when we live in such a disposable society, where nothing is forever, and nothing lasts.
[…] Also, previously written about here. […]
You know the real “Emily” is dead right?
The Emily from Ringling Brothers B&B circus died, not this Emily. ;-)