Luciano’s mom reached out to me over the weekend and filled me in on some more information.
I didn’t know what to say. What does one say, but, “I’m sorry?”
The truth is, you want to say, “I’m sorry that the world is so fucked up and people like Luciano and Alison are gone but shit-heads like Trump and his progeny still exist. There’s no God and if there is one, he’s a giant asshole and he can go fuck himself.”
But in the end, all you can ever say is, “I’m sorry,” and hope it’s enough.
Speaking of which…
Me: I guess I should take these letters off.
Chad: Do you want me to help?
Me: No. I’ll do it myself. Just…distract me will you?
Him: Sure, I’ll do a dance. (thinking) You should take a picture.
Me: (starting the process) I already did, but thanks.
Him: I’m sorry, Logan.
When Alison moved in, she wanted to paint the boy’s room but I convinced her not to. It was too much trouble, I said. We had already agreed on painting the master bedroom and living room so she relented on what was the guest room.
I kept the paint cans for those two rooms, 11 years after Alison and I got them.
It’s hard letting things go.
The boy’s room, though, was painted by a lovely girl name Abbie in September of 2004, almost exactly 16 years ago. That was the last time it was painted. Abbie painted it when patterns were all the rage but it now made the room look dated.
To the point that, when Mouse lived here, she also asked to paint it, and I said no again. This time for a slightly different reason.
You see, Alison and I put up these stickers that read, “Sweet Dreams.” It was just a random idea that Alison had and she surprised me with the lettering. I still remember her, pregnant and carefully measuring and adjusting the words so that they would be perfect. Which they were – perfectly balanced and exactly in the center of the crib.
That was her in a nutshell.
Now, she always had meant for them to be temporary but once she died, I couldn’t bear the thought of taking them down.
But the boy’s growing up. And he should have a room that he can have for the next 16 years if he wanted, not the room Abbie wanted 16 years ago.
So, this past Sunday, I took the lettering down with Chad. Then Mouse came by and the three of us painted the whole thing.
While we were waiting for it to dry, we went out for food.
Me: Are you two tired of Vietnamese yet?
Them: Nope, not yet.
We ran into an old friend of mine while we were out but I suppose that’s an entry for another time.
Then we came back and we marveled at the room.
Neither of them had ever painted before. It wasn’t perfect but we were happy with it afterward – we didn’t do any of the molding as I figured we’d do that some other time.
But it was good. I think Alison would have liked it.
Hopefully, the boy will.
Location: earlier today, at 84th, asking for Ariel
Mood: much better
Music: Hold your head up, keep your head up, (Spotify)
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