Thursday, October 29, 2015

Your New Family

After my Mah made her transition, it was a real shock to me, that what I thought was my fortress of a family was drying up. My Mah had ten brothers and sisters, and I'm not saying we all twirled spaghetti or sliced gigantic pineapple covered hams together on Sunday afternoons because we never did (that I recall) but it was just the idea that we were this thing and now? Almost nothing. 

My Dad came to the hospital every day. He came in and took a nap on the extremely uncomfortable couch and once-by accident-they gave me two-every seven hours-purple popsicles instead of one and I was able to share-which filled me with happiness(we are in the years where I'm supposed to serve him-not the other way around, duh.) 

I don't remember him ever leaving but I will tell you-we are not very demonstrative but there was this one time-he took my wrist and I took his wrist and DANG this magical energy thing happened between us. 

Really, it was a glorious moment and it makes me believe even more in the power of touch. POW. 

(This Paragraph Left Intentionally Blank) 

My next relation was Marilyn. She sent this super fabulous red(my favorite)plant with a polka dot bow and we just sorted out-last Saturday evening-some of the action that took place during my hospital stay. She said she couldn't believe how good I looked sitting up in a chair in the ICU. (Do you know I JUST realized it's also sounds like 'I see you'? Some things I've just never had to think about.) Her next visit was the exact opposite. 

I had gone psycho. Which-I know this is crazy, but as a former professional people-pleaser, I am SO proud of myself. 

Yay me. 

I remember feeling so-oh-oh-oh sick and I remember hearing Marilyn say, 'Hi Norm." and I thought, isn't that so wonderful she remembers his name and then fetal position pain and retching and agony-she said I was banging on the pain juice dispenser like a crazy person,  and sending the cloying Russian-ish respiratory lady away having refused her plastic bag of breathing gunk. Even almost mean-like. I'm so happy about that.  RAWR. And she walked Grantley. And brought over a book. And delivered Jewish-penicillin from Seymour on the day before the Cancer Czar gave us the go to get the hell out of there. Coincidence? I think not. 

Anni-dog walker supreme. She took a few spins with Grantley and did. not. accept. payment. The other super cool move was this: I think it was a day after I got home? She rang P to see how I was doing. I thought, whoa that is SO classy. 

Eilene. She wanted to assist and I asked her to help me with this rat nonsense. (They seemed to have disappeared. I do not believe it for a minute.) She was all over getting life stuff organized and now, she's going to help me change the universe. No big thang. 

Philip. Look. We're not married. We met a couple years ago via a personal ad. That's the big joke around here. We would say: I don't remember THIS being mentioned in your Chicago Reader ad as he goes out in the rain after 10:00 at night for glycerine suppositories OR puts me to bed and stacks covers on me. 

There's above and there's beyond and then there's Philip. 

Gail and Shari. Kind words regarding my writing are propelling me forward. It's the smallest gestures-don't cha think? 

Kelly and Julie. EA. Jeanne. Francesca. Terry. (I'm gonna miss someone-watch for updates) Lindsay. I wish she could teach classes in effective cheering uppage. Mary Kay, Leni. Mayjaynemilla. Queester. Joey. The pray-ers. The positive energy senders. (Your name here.) And stupid, stupid facebook. The clicks, the comments, looking at your photos. 

People, you is my family now. 


The nurse didn't call me back which seems kinda uncool, no? The plumbers did not arrive. The remodeler did not ever show or call(hey so guess what? You lost the gig. Dumbass.) The rats got quiet. There was a tiny bit o bowel action but we're not out of the woods yet. 

I spent the day standing with a bottle of Windex and walking around the palatial estate wiping things off and after reading a paragraph about a woman who was diagnosed with colon cancer who died after one year post diagnosis-who's advice from beyond the grave was: Be as active as you possibly can, me and the G went outside for a walk. 



  1. Really it's my pleasure. I hope you know that I am, and always have been a big fan both of you as a person and of you as an artist. Write on!

  2. Rerun has been diligently protecting us all from the mailman.