6-14-06
Good Morning My Baby –
Hope to get some $$ from my ebay guy when I take a day on the 22nd and go up there. Also, I called Phil and am going down to Southie to talk to his office manager about…something, maybe nothing. Phil remembers my reliability, and so I might actually get something out of this. It may be early morning or late night….Hell, I’m almost desperate.
Had another of my odd notions last night. I acknowledge that you made me a better man, a better person. Could I have done the same (well, OK, a better woman then) for you? Could I have made you more honest, less materialistic, more patient and forgiving? The only one besides J. or Betts — and I wouldn’t want to broach the subject with either since it seems very self-serving and compliment-fishing to trust any response I might get from them — I could ask is Lisa. And I may.
6-15-06
Good Morning Sweetheart –
Have hit a long-overdue poker slump. Last night, this morning, nothing. Two A-K, two losses, et al. Won’t be bragging for a while.
Lisa finally took the Next Logical Step with one of her swains. Now comes the riskiest part: guy gets what he wants, what now? Is he most interested in conquest, orgasms or Lisa? The first, Lisa gets hurt. The second: up to her. Can she take something primarily physical without emotional depth? Third option: home run.
Went down to US Express (nee: Boston Package) to meet Tom the Office Manager, and old pal Victor (you remember him? We went to his house in Watertown once or twice, and got some nice Chinese stuff through him — now, alas, sold. Chinese wife. Bad stairs. Glad to go home. Remember?) I might end up covering phones for them on a weeknight or weekend day. Phil did remember my reliability and gave the word to try to find something for me.
Odd feeling being there. Dingy no-frills office — a dump, really — bitchy drivers, incessant macho-soaked bullshit, Victor stuttering, drivers banging in on the radio, the phones going — an d it’s slow. I’d need a refresher course in their computer system. But I believe I could work through it. Just feels like I’ve regressed. Just living dime to dime is to to me a regression. I’m in a different place emotionally — better, despite your death — and that difference makes a huge difference. But still must do what I must do.
I know you wouldn’t be happy about this. You never trusted Phil, liked the craziness, the late hours, the pressure. You’d be unhappy if I had to wake up during the night to deal with some job. You’d really be unhappy if I went out and did the job myself.
Well, Phil’s a known quantity. I know where he can be trusted and where he can’t, and have the advantage of not needing the job to survive, which robs him of power over me.
As for the hours, that and my labor are all I have to trade for money, and since I have no one to share my tme with, it doesn’t much matter if I lose a night or not (I do anyway with insomnia). I can make up the sleep or take a day from ECS if I have to. If you were alive I wouldn’t even be considering it. But you’re not and I have to survive financially. If you’re really pissed by this, find some way of letting me know (ha ha.). I won’t screw myself up too much, don’t worry. I just have to support myself.
6-16-06
Good Morning Baby!
When I arrived home last night I called out, “Hi, Baby, I’m home!” and half-waited for your “Hi Baby!” response, that always was so wonderful to hear because it was drenched in affection — god, wasn’t that a welcome! You made me feel so good to be home with you, baby –
Of course, the response didn’t come, as I knew it wouldn’t, and of course I had to remind myself that it’ll never come again. So I had a good cry.
And I wasn’t done. Was watching a program on George Gershwin, who died having his brain tumor operated on. The program said that his last song, which he didn’t finish but was completed by his brother Ira, was “Our Love is Here to Stay,” one of my favorite and most beautiful of Gershwin’s songs. Baby, if there’s ever a gathering to celebrate your life, I intend to sing “Our Love is Here to Stay” as my farewell lovesong to you:
It’s very clear, our love is here to stay
Not for a year, but ever and a day
The radio and the telephone and the movies that we know
May just be passing fancies and in time may go
But oh my dear, our love is here to stay
Together we’re going a long long way
In time the Rockies may crumble, Gibraltar may tumble
They’re only made of clay, but
Our love is here to stay.
I tried singing it last night. I was awful. Have to work on the breathing. And not bursting into tears in the middle. Which I did. Big time.
I miss you, my love. Don’t think I’ll ever stop.
Sindy called. Got sideswiped by a 14-wheeler dump truck. Has a concussion, whiplash, damage to the neck and hands. Is lucky to be alive and credits God with being with her. So why didn’t He prevent the accident?
By the way: don’t worry that my finding “Our Love is Here to Stay” will make me forget your song. No way. You’re worth more than one song. Hell, you’re worth more than a friggin’ symphony (and 63,047 operas)! At this point my idea for your song is: where does the beauty go when the butterfly dies? It stays where you put it: in my heart.
6-17-06
Good Evening My Love –
Warm to hot, but not too humid. The heat got to Janet, reminding me of your problems with temperature extremes.
Got my haircut. You’d have missed my wavy locks, such as they are, but you’d like the way my head feels with the hair (both of ‘em) very short. Makes my turkey neck look worse, though.
Have had a better day emotionally, as a certain Gershwin song is leaving me be, at least for today. Lisa doesn’t know “Our Love is Here to Stay,” so I’ll sing it to her when — I assume — I talk to her tomorrow, Father’s Day. For my part, I’ll try to remember Charlie.
Sindy called early, sounded better, but says she’s got a lot of physical problems. At least she’s getting a lawyer. Don’t ask me for details because I couldn’t keep track of them.
Also talked to Betts, who was in one of her self-delusional phases. She’s in contact again with her John, who’s back with that creature we saw him with years ago — you know, the one Betts said was so good for him, and who helped him go through all that money, for drugs. But, of course, that wouldn’t happen again, would it? Of course it will, but Betts prefers to believe otherwise….She also saw Sylvia Browne on Montel Williams, and Browne talked about smelling departed ones’ perfume, getting calls with no one there, and all that hoo-raw. So Betts shortly after got a call with a blocked caller ID, and when she picked it up no one was there. A hundred reasonable explanations, but Betts prefers to believe it’s Red. Hey, we have a line at work dedicated to I don’t know what, and it’s always ringing but no lights light up. Is it you? No. Phone Co. said it’s just an installation screw-up.
And why would a dead person trying to reach a living person use a phone and then not be there? Other, less ambiguous ways of communicating. But if you want to believe, anything will suffice. Jeez. Guess I’m just mad because I haven’t heard from you….
Lisa and boyfriend still going hot and heavy. He’s probably not just in it for conquest because he’d already be backing off by now. He’s been good to her. Let’s see if it lasts.
6-18-06
Good Afternoon, My Dearly, Dearly Beloved –
Happy Father’s Day to me.
Day is hot but not oppressive. Humidity isn’t too bad. No particular sea breeze yet, but one’s supposed to come.
Slept till noon. Lovely. Probably will be up half the night tonight, but, oh well.
Had a long talk with Lisa. Right now — get back to me tomorrow (please?) — she’s handling things well, enjoying the ride, being cautious but not too cautious, letting things come (in more ways than one) to her. Hope that lasts, and that Jim doesn’t turn out to be a jerk. If he does, we’re in for a rough ride. But if it goes OK, the benefits will be huge. She’s already beginning to realize that she was treated worse by Cliff and G. than she believed.
Lisa thinks that by my saying no to you when you were inclined to go too far with a thing, I made you a better person. Hope she’s right. I sung her (shakily) “Our Love is Here to Stay.” We talked about her, mostly, but me — and you — some. And I remembered your delight at anything I brought you, and how wonderful it was — to have a gift so enthusiastically received. I’d been thinking a bit about how important it is to make a woman feel special and attractive. Little gifts make a woman feel special — c.f., the little pair of chocolates I bring Janet, as plain and asexual a creature (though I like her) she is. And Lisa reminded me of the nightgowns I bought you, always with two things in mind: to keep you comfortable, so important when you suffer as much as you did; and to make you feel at least a little bit pretty — thus the bits of lace trim and pretty patterns — so important when your body is deteriorating as much as yours did.
And I cried….Gotta stop some time!!
Did think of Charlie a couple of times on Father’s Day. Just didn’t think very much of him.
6-20-06
Good Evening Baby –
Yesterday was sick. GI tract, of course, which aggravated the back. And I think I was emotionally exhausted too, what with “Our Love is Here to Stay” and all. Didn’t even want to play poker. Spent most of the day in bed, reading and watching tv. Even blew off drawing class. Today started rough; didn’t feel even close to right until the afternoon. Some hip pain too, with the usual groin tenderness. Just two difficult days.
Lisa sent me a very nice Father’s Day card. “Thank you for being my dad. You’ve brought so much to my life and taught me so much about what it means to be a good human. We’ve had lots of ups and downs, and I’m grateful for all of them because they’ve added up to the relationship we have now: one that I treasure beyond words. I love you!!”
Nice, huh?
I’m getting tired of/embarrassed about crying. I do it too much. I don’t want to stop, I just want to cry less. Both Lisa and Andy Chase said it wasn’t a problem, but last week with “Our Love” I just made myself miserable, over and over. It’s like I get something stuck in my head and it takes too long to unstick it. I’ve been remembering that heartbreaking haircut, and if I let myself dwell on it I’ll be miserable all over again.
6-21-06
Good Morning My Love –
Decent sleep last night; so far so good re: health.
Lisa sent a terrific picture. Besides the weight loss, her face benefits from darker hair, a good off-shoulder length, a style that covered much of her problematic forehead without making her look like she had none. Eyes benefit too, esp. from the hair color, as does her skin. Perfect smile. Great picture.
I haven’t said it lately, but: I love you, my darling, I always will, and it’s taken all these months to describe how much I miss you, how huge a hole you’ve left in my life, and I still haven’t finished yet.
Andy (C) read Andy (H) via tarot cards last week. Indiscreetly, Andy (C) told me some of what he saw, beginning with his buttoned-down, bloodless mindset (anally fixated? I bet!), with little room for spontaneity or improv. But hey, we all knew that, with or without tarot cards. Andy (C) also said he saw another man in Andy (H)’s future. I hope after Dan is gone. As I thought about it, two things turned me around re: Andy (H). One: he’s become more of a team player at work. Two: he’s stood by Dan. His loyalty is surprisingly important to me. I like Dan OK, though he’s a bit of a shambles and I wouldn’t like to eavesdrop on his toilette, if you follow. But — funny — I don’t want the ill, the frail, the old to be abandoned/betrayed/let down by their loved ones. If Andy (H) sticks it out with Dan to the inevitable end, I’ll admire him greatly. If he doesn’t….
Ran into John Levesque, whom we visited in Randolph a couple of times. 3 girls, nice wife, but I forget her name. He got fed up with Phil, who always treated his truckers worse than his drivers — why? Never could figure — and now hates his guts. He’s been jumping from company to company, whichever has the Fidelity account. Don’t see how anyone can survive as an owner-operator with these gas prices. But his girls are 13, 15 and 16, and he can’t relocate, and other than trucking — and being away from home — what can he do? The black hole in his resume is at least 20 years big. Glad I escaped that trap.
He says Clancy went into a limo business with his brother who pulled out on him, and Clancy started drinking more and got caught DUI. Fini limo business. He got a job at Lowe’s and has emigrated to North Carolina where, Levesque says, he’s happy.
Today was a much better day physically. Good. I had some salmon from the 9s that didn’t seem particularly fresh; I ate about a quarter of it and expected the worst today. Didn’t happen, and I’m glad!
The apartment did OK during the hot snap. Warm but not uncomfortable. Didn’t have to use the fan. Don’t believe I’ll need to buy any a.c. The few miserable days I’ll tough out. Am trying to get into the habit of airing the place out in the morning and, if it’s not too humid (as it isn’t today) I might leave ‘em open all day. The place needs it!
Talked to Betts, John and Sindy this evening.
Betts is just all in love with her dog, whom she kinda admitted she preferred to Precious I (whatever the name was) because P. I couldn’t be left alone. P. II can. And she feels so soft — you’d love her, Betts says. Hey, you might. I just didn’t feel patient with Betts tonight. She means well….But she talked about MWRA and her semi-iffy disability, and loving “retirement” and not being able to do a day’s work any more, and sounded so pleased to be saying it. I just wish she was a little embarassed.
John rattled on. Pierce has a girlfriend, name I forget, but will try to remember because you’ll want to know it. Talkative little girl, apparently. John asked Pierce if he intended to marry her. “No,” Pierce said. “I’m ging to marry Mommie.” John’s big flip project’s on the market for the low to mid $800K, with no takers yet, and John may change agents. The smaller project, a 6-unit, is in rehab. He’s heard the state will pay landlords $1500 @ to rent to sex offenders and is considering it, once the units are habitable. Risky. But maybe they could all offend each other. After that project’s resolved he plans to take a month or two and finish his kitchen, which hasn’t been right for over a year. Nina must me a very patient woman.
The rest was B.S.
I mentioned you several times.
Sindy I’m worried about. Her concussion has developed some serious symptoms. Dizziness, memory loss, disorientation, panic, maybe vomiting blood, spots before the eyes, pain. She’s seeing a doctor and lawyer and the case looks good, but she’s drinking and she shouldn’t. She should be in the hospital, or at the very least taken care of. That person in Nashua she calls Mom may be able to go up there, and if necessary I’ll bring her up myself, Sat. or Sun.
Did I tell you I’m taking off tomorrow? I am. Will deposit some change in the bank — $118!! — and go see my ebay guy, put some more stuff on ebay and get a check! Walk some, maybe.
Again when I came home I imagined calling out “I’m home, baby!” and your saying “You’re home, baby!” in that delighted way you often did, as if it was a big deal, and of course that will never happen again, and I cried hard and got mad at myself. That’s the kind of crying I need to avoid: the self-inflicted kind.
