Tuesday, September 28, 2010

no woman, no cry

sadly, it was a weekend of lots of women, crying a lot.

friday was a fundraiser for a guy who had surgery awhile back and then countless setbacks and complications causing him to be bedridden. his wife has recently changed jobs so can't just up and go before 5:00, has been caring for their two young girls and her incapacitated husband now for months. i'd met her only once in passing and had many absoluts in my system at the time, so the meet didn't stick. the story streamed out of her. her struggle, her exhaustion, her loneliness, her sense of helplessness with not being able to make her man better. yet those weren't the "words." that was all stiff upper lip and gratitude to those who were lending even a finger of a hand to help. i ached for her. people fall in love and yeah, that whole for better, for worse thing... your husband can't even wash himself at 35? mother of god... at 80, mebbe, ya know?

sunday was a wake. a man we knew, in queue for a lung transplant, could no longer wait. up/down, up/down, all signs went south and he died last wednesday. he was sick, but not old. contrary to all the silver hair he sported, both head and face, turns out he was only 58. same age as the owner's oldest brother. reaching distance of the owner, really. he'd been sickly for months, trailing an oxygen tank, not well enough to play the guitar out, but sometimes well enough to join us when others played, and never anything but happy to be out and about. he was one of those rare specimens for whom nobody could find an unkind word. there was a peace and wholeness to him, as a man and a person, that radiated outward and made you feel happy to be with him and know him. i count myself as terribly lucky to ever get those people in my life, even if they have to leave before i want them to.

i had never before met his "lady-friend". i rustled my nerves and said what i could and she started hugging me. hard. this need of people to be touched, held, connected to others always takes me aback. i would never hug somebody i didn't know. yet she wanted human contact, could feel my empathy and grabbed on. did i help her hurt even a wee bit less for even a second? i hope so. there has to be something soul-affirming when strangers tell you that you loved a wonderful man.

his sister, his nieces, his mother all were there with balled up kleenexes and red-rimmed eyes. this is the second son the mother has lost, the 1st to colon cancer 5 years ago. she looked small and tired and alone in her chair at the end of the receiving line and i could only wonder how long ago the mr. had died and how long would this woman live without any of her men?

what struck me was how many 30-somethings were there. musicians, and friends of, (like moi-self) with whom he'd played or saw him play in that little bit of shangri-la on the merrimack. a small stone in a pond rippling out and out and out. we all were terribly sad, but i think there remained for everybody that clarity of thought how blessed we'd been to get him.

there are some who see a a man like this and only see their own shortcomings. i prefer to think i am living my life in such a way that i do allow this kind of goodness in, and that as i get better at that, only more good will come.

i cry still from all the pain i saw and feel. i don't know why a death pall is over life lately. i do know it has to lift.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

empty


just about this time last week, the cat died. you might quibble about "the cat". however, i never liked his given name and it also to me implied a supremacy, a singularity. there was no "other" cat, k?

he was old. i think 19. he'd been more and more tired, eating less and less. that was wonderfully balanced by zero upchucking these last months, but hey. he still jumped off the bed or couch and came wobbling over whenever i came home. he pestered to be fed and wanted to be petted, brushed and held.

til last monday. he whinged for food when i came home mid-afternoon, but only ate a bite. his breathing was shallow but i had to go to work. when i got home, he still came loping, but i could see the effort in his ribcage. i knew, but i didn't know how long it would take? so i followed him from carpet to couch, chair to floor. his breath rasping more each moment, and his bony frame so small under my hands.

i lost it and started to bawl. he was dying, i knew there wasn't much time left. his eyes surged, he began to struggle and stand. my sobbing... selfish owner. for many years and more than a few men he couldn't tolerate my tears. he'd come running, wind himself in and out of me, rub my hands and face. i have never known an animal with more empathy. i couldn't do that in his last moments. suck it up.

his eyes were empty, his jaw slack. then... nothing. he was so small and fragile, yet warm and soft, on the floor. it was hours before the clinic would be open.

i went the night without sleep.

i went to work.

i owned him about 18 years. that is the longest relationship i have ever had with a mammal. including my family. including my family. including my family. including my mother and/or father.

five years ago, when i had to put my dog down, after a night of agony of him in seizure, i went to work also.

in either case, if my kid or spouse had been sick/dying and i'd been up all night in hysterics, i could have called in, right? i guess?

why is it that beings so devoted to us get less credence? my dog and cat brought me far more love and security than my parents ever managed, yet calling out over their loss seemed namby and unprofessional.

can i tell you?

a week later, i am home in a very clean, but empty, loft. i cannot believe how much i miss him. them.

Monday, September 06, 2010

weep for humanity


this blog has countless lines and laments about the public. i'm forced to work with huge sections of it and pretend to care about their allergies and birthdays, travel woes and what-not. as i've gotten older it's gotten easier, but it takes its toll nonetheless.

over the last weeks i've had a couple too-close encounters with kids between the ages of 10-16 who behaved like savages. all were with their families and in groups of about 6. what children that age were doing in a place that costs $100 per person for dinner is another point entirely, but what they were all doing in a place in which they had no idea, nor enforcement, of how to act was truly shocking. yelling, hitting each other, cross-talking to the point of shouting, poking other staff members to get attention and whims met... exhausting and appalling. parents, aunts, uncles all blithely carrying on like the cherubs were charming little victorian models of seen and not heard.

you also know much of my teeth-gnashing finds fault in the modern ubiquity of reality tv. hours and hours of programming that must be filled with an ever lowering levee of stoopidness. as a kid, i howled with laughter at the gong show and match game, but the unkown comic was in on the joke, ya know? now it's people fiercely fat, ignorant, with a sense of entitlement simply busting at the seams. watching even little snips makes me uncomfortable and weirdly sad.

as if i needed more evidence, the internet offered me this today. this clip must be watched all the way through. it's another simon cowell project and the brit version of american idol, i suppose. the moon-faced obese girls, folds of fat flopping over their belts and spandex and uggs, unable to stitch together a coherent sentence, never mind explain why they'd like to be on the show. their "singing" is shockingly bad -- like william hung she-bangs-bad -- but unlike hung, who rode his 15 minutes pretty well, they are rude to the audience and boorishly insolent to the panel of judges. they go from bff's to fist-throwing enemies within 6 minutes, in view of millions on tv and their parents backstage.

i weep anew for everything that this video proves to be true.