5-17-06
Good Morning Beloved –
Awoke to sunshine!!
They opened Rte. 1 south this morning. North still closed.
After having spent $38 to fill the car, leaving me $80 to last me 1 1/2 weeks, I’m alarmed at my finances. My bank account is dwindling, now down to $1500. I have to cut back more, but particularly I must earn more. If Home Instead doesn’t give me more hours soon I’ll have to look elsewhere, though just where elsewhere is I’m not sure. Have resolved to cut back on ebay, yet there I was last night, bidding on three items that together cost over $100. I lost all three because I set limits, but had things gone differently I’d have been shelling out a C-note I can’t afford.
I just can’t seem to finish growing up!
Of course, if you were still alive you’d be telling me it was OK, if I want stuff I should have it, that you enjoy seeing me get stuff I like (just as I loved seeing your pleasure when I’d give you stuff you liked). Not that it’s your fault I remain infantile. I know the situation and if I choose to behave irrespossibly I can’t blame anyone but me.
And just to add to the general fun, my windshield wipers have taken it into their heads to end their wipe cycles in a vertical position. They still work, they just won’t lie down. Probably electrical, ccaused by rain. Will wait a day for Patrick to deal with what I’m sure is a plethera of more serious problems, and call tomorrow.
5-19-06
Good Afternoon My Love –
Yes, baby, I skipped a day. And I’m not trying to fake it. I had the shits; they started so-so, got worse in the afternoon before they settled down, and I spent the day shitting and resting and vegging. And not writing you. I apologize, my love.
The repair of the wiper motor will cost me almost $200. Killer. Will have it done March 31.
Set up an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon, for May 25. Then I got a call back that Burke, the muscular/skeletal guy, wanted to seed me first. So I see him June 8 at 4 p.m. and have no idea what I’ll be doing May 25.
Have been blue and lethargic in general. These financial hits are very discouraging, and soon the car insurance will start up again. Hard to figure how I’ll be able to tread water the rest of this year. And there’s Freddie, and there’s you or, to the point, there’s no you. The part of me that found myself increasingly alone as your health worsened, that part’s OK. But the part that was welded to you, conjoined with you, that part will be sad and lonely for a long time yet.
Just for the fun of it, it rained like hell on the way in. Called my ebay guy in Peabody, and his phones are still screwed up. Not even sure from his message if he’s open. In any case, it sounds like anything electronic is compromised.
5-20-06
Good Evening Beloved –
8 months gone. And now, the anniversary of the Beginning of the End. Your agonizing pain, the MRI, that ghastly evening that ended with Dr. G. giving us your death sentence, the decision to have brain surgery. And then, the last nightmare that I don’t want to recapitulate just now. God, baby, how did we go through all that? We went through it together, as we did everything else. I’m honored to have been with you when you needed me.
Yet my feeling of our closeness continues to erode bit by bit. Holding onto you in my mind is like trying to grip air. These entries have gotten shorter, less intimate; I talk more at you, chit-chatty, than with you about the things our souls shared and, as much as I can manage, still share. But the immediacy of memory is eroded by time, and that’s what’s happening to me. I apologize to you, baby. This living alone gets to be a mental habit, this thinking for one. I have to do it, but it’s like every day a scintilla of you disappears and I can’t get it back. And scintillas add up, maybe to as much as a modicum!
Jeez, just realized I never wished Jane a Happy Mother’s Day last week. Sorry, Jane — I said it a few times, just never wrote it down. I’m losing touch with all my dead women!!
Good talk with Lisa. Her dating thing has been a mixed bag, as should be expected, but she’s had a couple of good dates where she’s been pampered, and has met one guy, Jimmy, who could be the real thing.
She sounds better: stronger, more self-confident, though I’m sure that’s temporary. She’s doing enough good things to remain positive. And I like some of the things her therapist is saying. Wish Lisa could see her more often, but if they start really getting into important stuff, that may change.
5-21-06
Good Evening My Love –
Back from the memorial service for Freddie. All together not too bad. Michael D’Antonio, Abra and D. spoke well and movingly. There was a lot of love in that church (Unitarian) today. It was a bit goofy too: a friend of Freddie sang Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World” totally off-key and out of synch with the piano. It was so bad I thought you were singing. Then the lady minister asked if anyone wanted to say a few brief words, and Stevie said about 10 thousand of them till we were alternately laughing and yawning. But everyone lauded Freddie’s optimism, generosity, humor, curious mind and love of others.
There was a recedption, where I got to meed Je. again at long last, and for the first time Brother George. First, Je. My god, she’s tall. Put Je., D. and Sandra in the same room and you’ve got three Amazons. She’s blond now, surprisingly pretty, has a giggly style I ascribed to nerves. Pleasant, hard to read.
George. Also tall, about 6′1″. Heavy now, maybe my weight. The good looks of his youth have evolved into slight facial puffiness that made me think “alcohol.” Absolute bullshit artist from the moment he opened his mouth. Rapid, self-absorbed, I-know-everything manner of spech. You may have your opinion about a person or event, but George will tell you the real poop! Had a woman with him who never said anything. That kind of woman fulfills the same role for a man as jewelry for a woman.
To George, Mina was a beautiful woman who simply never mastered the rhythm method and who never abandoned any of her children; the state evilly took them. He would see you as “My Sister.” A possession. And he would expect you to accept everything he said as gospel. You’ll be surprised to hear I really didn’t like the man. As Sandra or Mina would, George tended to make the whole affair sound like it was for him.
Left as soon as I respectfully could.
June and Norman were there. I made nice.
Glad it’s over. Hope you and Freddie are together, doing you own, um, post mortem on the service.
Oh –I know it was a horrible picture of you and Freddie, but it was the only one I had! I’m sorry, baby –
Just talked with D. I think she’s proud of herself, her brother and her family, and glad it’s over. She was super. Her take on George was to see him as a rich source of info. Lived with Mina to age 12. He’s supposed to have a degree from Bentley. She also thought he drank, though she thought he was sober today. I have a feeling he had a stiff one no more than an hour before the service. I reminded her that Freddie always warned about trusting George, that he was a con man. And Freddie knew con men. D. says she’s cautious enough to be safe from him. I did point out that since George has something for which she has an emotional need, she leaves herself vulnerable to manipulation, and said that even someone as savvy as you was conned to some extent by Sandra, who had something you needed emotionally: kinship.
5-22-06
Good Afternoon My Best Beloved –
Maybe the best part of yesterday was the photo display at the reception (again, sorry your pic wasn’t better!) — great shots of Freddie as a young stud, skinny, dark, narrow-faced, punk-looking with all that hair! Wonderful stuff.
Called Home Instead. No additional hours likely in the near future. Still can’t reach my ebay guy: phones/electronics still screwed up by the flood. Lisa suggested I try to pick up some hours as a bookstore. Good idea. Also, will call Phil Furman just in case he needs dispatching help. As as of now I have nothing on ebay watch. Hope I can resist for multiples of weeks. Doubt I can, but hope to.
Feeling blue from yesterday. They tried to have the congregation sing “We’ll Meet Again,” which was a flop, but the words hurt: “We’ll met again some sunny day,” knowing that, most likely, we’ll never meet again, a thought which invariably brings tears, as it has now.
5-23-06
Good Morning My Love –
Spent the night missing you, so it wasn’t a very good night. It was so good having you within reach, a phone call away, a room away. I know I’ve talked about this before, but it keeps coming back. To have someone you love, to have someone who loves you, this is the best life offers. We were a pair, baby, a team, and we worked so well together, did things our way to the extent we could, and we were right about things a lot more than we were wrong. We were GOOD, good together and as a result good individually. That can’t be taken away. We had a damn good run.
Busy week. PT tonight, Tony the T tomorrow, osteo surgeon Thursday, Janet Saturday, D. & M. Sunday. Maybe ebay work Monday, if my ebay guy ever dries out.
At noon I went to the BU Bookstore and got an employment application. Filled it out, warned C.S. I’d used her for a reference — and was informed that in a couple of weeks I should be getting a raise. Just me. This is C.S.’s doing. (Of course, if it isn’t $4K annually I’ll still have to have a second job.) I feel strange about it. I believe I’m overpaid as it is and don’t deserve special treamtment.
Saw a bizarre bumper sticker yesterday: “Do Not Meddle in the Affairs of Dragons: You Are Crunchy and Good with Ketchup.” This is even better than the political sticker I saw the other day: “Proud to be Everything the Right Wing Hates.”
It would infuriate Craig if he knew about the raise, because he’s always felt underpaid — and because his leaving makes the raise possible. He’ll be replaced by someone who’ll be paid less, maybe much less, freeing up $ for moi. No, Craig would not be pleased.
