Forty Eighth

Shelley.

One of the first times i met you, certainly the first time i was at your house, you told me that your mother was drunk.  I was very young and had never (knowingly) been around a drunk person before. I was afraid, and acted very stiffly around your mother as she showed us a card trick.  

For you it was a casual statement, an indication of just how different your life was from mine.  

You took me to places in 8th grade that i would not have otherwise been.  I learned to smoke dope that year, because of you.  We snuck out of houses and wandered the streets late at night.  Walking several miles to tape a joint on the door of someone who was important to you at the time.

Talking in your room, covering issues from coloring books to masturbation.

I was at your house the night your oldest brother was having a psychotic episode and was threatening to jump off the loft.

You were there during the time that i decided that having my eyes really wide open would be cool.  All you said was, "it's cool how i can see white all around your eyes,"  rather than, "Oh for god's sake, cut that out."

I was not cool.  You moved on to the cool kids.

You called me, maybe 5 years after we had been close to tell me your dog had died. because you knew i would understand what he meant to you.

I saw you, years later at your brother's funeral.  We hadn't been close in years, but i knew my attendance would please you.  It did.

The last time i spoke to you, you called me late at night, after no communication in 15 years, and told me that i had to read "Captain Corelli's Mandolin."  I haven't read it yet, nor have i forgotten the title.

Shelley, you were wasted.  You were so smart and funny and damaged.  You never had a chance.  I wish i had know how to help, but i couldn't even help myself.

Forty Seventh

Do you suppose that loneliness has something to teach me?

That sounds kind of like a stupid question.  But i found myself asking it today.  

Still reeling from the death of my brother.

Grief stamped a memory inside my body that will never go away, and experiencing this new grief has strengthened the bond between grief and me.  It will never be far from the surface now that i know it.  It's a part of me now.

I am working on the speech i wish i'd been able to give at his memorial, a speech i will never be able to give.  I daren't deny the legend that is Saint Jim.

Forty Sixth

I have just done a very scientific survey on the top 100 books for kindle on Amazon:

On the top 100:

- 6 books featured a male chest, usually naked, perhaps in a shirt.

of the top 100 FREE:

- 15 of the books were displays of male pulchritude.

You are welcome for this intel, gathered at great expense and personal peril.

Forty Fifth

I was at the grocery store buying cat food and wine today.  Another Saturday night for the single middle-aged woman.

I threw in some yogurt and bananas to seem less pathetic. It was an effort i felt i needed to make.

Right now the thought is making me laugh.  So perfect.  But i wonder if i'm healing, just a little.  I look back at the past 6 months, and i realize that i am no longer feeling the mood swings and anger that i did when i was with him and when he left.

I am seriously thinking about sending his new wife a "Thank You" card.  This feeling won't last, but this is the first time i have allowed myself to think about the reasons that i am better off without him.  He made me crazy and feel bad about myself.  In all honesty, i am not that bad.  You could do much worse than me as a friend.

Some things i like about myself:

I am loyal.
I am real. ( I want to emphasize this, as it becoming increasingly important to me. I have no tolerance for your denial.)
I am funny.
I am a good listener.  I can really drop my crap and hear you.
I am not judgmental.  Unless you hurt animals or children, i am pretty much okay with it.
I know how to be quiet.
I like to be silly.
I understand that nothing is simple, including emotions.
I love my daughter and my cat.
I don't feel the need to be the center of attention.  Well except for the blogging.  (See?  No denial.)

My brother's memorial is in two weeks.  About 500 people are expected.  How weird do you think it will be?  I am thinking pretty fucking weird.

Forty Fourth

And then there were two.

He is gone.  he died Tuesday around noon.  I am glad he did not have to live anymore like he was the last time i saw him on Monday afternoon.  It was awful.  His eyes were rolling back in his head from the drugs, his mouth was hanging open and he was having trouble breathing.

I got the call from his oldest son that he had died.  I sat for a minute, and then i cried.  I cried hard enough so that my daughter came out of her room to see what was wrong, although she already knew.

So, the legend of Saint Jim has begun.  His wife is saying that he was the best man ever, EVER.  The only people who don't think that are his family of origin, whom he mostly ignored for the past 40 years.  But if you think i am going to disagree with his wife/my sister-in-law to her face, you are crazy.

There are 3 people left on this planet who have known me all my life, and only one of them who knows what it was like to grow up in that family.

And my dad is 87, and my mom is 84.  This might be a rough year.

Seriously, thank you for your comments.  I read them all, more than once, and i love you.  You are so wise.

What will happen next?

Forty Third

When your husband leaves you, you can be sad for a while, but after that people wonder why you don't just get over it.  So you hide it, the sadness.

When your brother is dying (the word on the street is less than two weeks) it's okay to be sad.

I am using my brother dying to show the sadness i always feel, but now it's acceptable.  I am not over it.  I will probably never be over it.  But i feel ashamed to have let a man (my ex) make me so sad.  

Last night my daughter came home from a dinner with her dad and told me that he wished we had broken up when she was three.  That last 17 years of being a family meant nothing.  I don't think he should have told her that, and i wish she hadn't told me.  That hurt.

Do not misunderstand.  I am devastated that my brother is dying.  I know he is going to die soon, i KNOW it, but i still don't believe it.

Forty Second

I have missed you for years.  I didn't understand why you didn't want to be around me, but i accepted it because i accepted the idea that i am not that great.  I am the B list person.  It's not true, but i accepted that, because i thought it was.

Now i know that it wasn't about me, i was collateral damage from your need to get as far away as you could from our parents.  THAT i understand.  But i wish i hadn't been thrown away too.

Oh, the damage that was done.