That was the last word I remember her saying, when we visited her around lunch time. She was awake and lucid for about 10 minutes. No, she wasn’t waxing nostalgic, she was fussing at John to have someone at the house fix up our bedroom.
I couldn’t abide the thought of staying in that mausoleum of a house, so we are at a bright and chipper hotel on Miami Beach.
Her blood is all screwed up. Her immune system decided to attack the clotting elements, so she can’t stop bleeding. Nothing they give her does anything.
When we got back at 5, she was unconscious, on a respirator, and her kidneys had given up.
I just signed her Do Not Resuscitate order two hours ago. Almost three hours ago. I am waiting now.
On a day when everyone must go to the doctor, it rains. But you knew that, right? Just been myself, and am waiting for various unspecified prescriptions to be phoned in. Eddie the Cat is across the river in Kentucky having the mass in his abdoment tested.
How do you explain to a cat what is happening to him?
I had avoided my family for years, figuring that having had to disbar the cousin that nobody liked, but everybody ignored, expelled me. His parents would have me believe so, at any rate.
But another cousin just dragged me to a party that she was giving for her son who has just married, and it was gorgeous. The party, of course, but also of being able to enjoy myself there. Evil cousins were not at all in evidence, and a good time was had by all. My cousins’ children do them great credit.
I need bright colors around me now, perhaps especially because they are hard to find in the middle of winter. Winter may have just started according to the rigid calendar and the nice people at the Directorate of Time, but it’s been going on a while. I believe that I can date the beginning of winter every year to my first refusal to believe that it’s on the way.
The sun is shining and gorgeous, but on a passel of barren trees, it can only do so much.
In my desire for more color, I even tried to redesign the website on the fly, but fortunately for all of us, I kept backups. See?
Send colors… Reds and oranges and yellows. And maybe a bright green.
You know what I find most surprising about this day after Christmas? That it’s so normal. Everything has snapped back to the way it was a week ago, before most of the hysteria had set in. “How was your Christmas?” now replaces “Are you ready for Christmas?” as the desired season-specific greeting question.
I sit at the coffee house and edit. A girl next to me reads Hemingway. Cars pass the square. At many places in America, “After-Christmas Sale!” signs are being pasted up, having been ready for a couple of weeks. Next year’s catalogues are moving from the idea stage to the planning stage. At what point do the foresters need to chop the trees in order to make the pulp for the catalogs to be printed on?
I shall stop meditating now. Maybe I’m not as recovered from yesterday as I thought.
Buck’s got his new iPod and I’m busy stuffing audible.com’s books onto it for him. Peter’s torn through his pile, and I relax before I have to start heating edibles. Edibles, not audibles. I must remember that…
While I do, y’all have a very Merry Sixth Day of Hanukkah!
Now the dog and I sit peacefully watching one of the Discovery channels, not having bought the beef tenderloin, and sincerely (still) refusing to get into the Holiday Mess. The point of it is to have fun with your family and friends, right? To celebrate a culturally important time.
Sometimes I wonder what it’s like, being part of the Christmas industry — singing Christmas carols in May, or making ornaments months in advance, or all year, even. It would seriously disjoint my own sense of time, but one has to assume that such an industry exists.
That has to be an alternate dimension! Contemporary physics has nothing on real life!
So now I guess Lenny Bruce is in the same company as Galileo — pardoned when it’s too blasted late!
Lenny Bruce Pardoned for 4-Letter Offense (AP) AP – Long after four-letter words in standup comedy lost their ability to shock, Lenny Bruce — whose foul-mouthed rants started the trend — was posthumously pardoned Tuesday for his 1964 obscenity conviction.