My normal’s not normal
There’s not much to do these days but wait. So I pass the time with conversations and trying to get back into the real world.
Alison used to go both nations regularly to try and help people. She put herself into harm’s way all the time for others and I could not have possibly been prouder of her.
That Trump and his ilk are alive and she is not enrages me.
A buddy of mine and I met up for lunch the other day. He told me his mother committed suicide. I never knew.
Me: How did you survive that? I’m asking everyone because I don’t know how to.
Him: (shrugging) You do, somehow. But you never stop being angry. I’m angry right now thinking about it – and that was years ago.
It concerns me that my son is around me so much. I’m told they absorb everything. So I try my best to hide it all. The anger, the sadness, the creeping madness.
Me: I worry about the kid. I mean, a few times a week, I gotta put him in his crib so I can go to the bathroom so he doesn’t see me cry. That’s not normal.
Gradgirl: (gently) That totally normal. (laughing) That’s probably the most normal thing about you.
He and I sing a lot of Jackson 5 and Stevie Wonder to pass the time. I do, rather, and very off-key. He just claps.
Me: Man, you better develop some rhythm when you get older; your mom was the best dancer I knew.
Him: (laughs, claps off tempo)
And I find what little amusement I can here and there.
Me: College? (thinking) I graduated in 1993.
Daisy: I was one then.
Me: Gah! I just threw up a little in my mouth.
Her: Me too!
Location: the waiting room of life
Music: Trying to live without your love, is one long sleepless night