A LITTLE WHILE AND THEN FLEW ON

There are those days when the baby dementors, the ones who come knocking on your door like Jehovah's Witness pretty sure they won't get any converts, are walking down your psychic street and you really aren't sure how to stop them from addressing you. Days when the neighbor's completely legitimate mowing of the lawn, taking less than 15 minutes, seems like hours of water torture at a Philadelphia Eagles' victory celebration. Even the birds singing closer than the mower, the sight of many nasturtiums popping up in the garden, and the view of the filthy white cat sleeping underneath the spicy basil plant do nothing to improve your outlook.

I, for some misbegotten fancy, decided that I was sleepy enough to tough it out without benefit of medication. And I did sleep, just not deeply. I didn't have anxiety dreams as much as uneasy ones. I woke up often. And then the day is overcast and cool. Might be partly that SAD thing.

Not drinking (35 days), not binge-eating or anything, getting three hours of exercise a week (no swimming, though, the pool is closed until the beginning of MAY! I will be starting all over to get back into swimming shape!). I made my health insurance deadline. I have been doing a bit of gardening every day (mostly clean-up). I'm even making progress with the belonging reduction. Why do I just want to sit and watch all eight seasons of The Gilmore Girls, a show that I don't even wholly approve of? (I could be watching the French movies I paid for!)

Maybe it is just that part of the cycle. I don't think I have complained much of depression of late. And  it isn't really full-on depression, just a season of the down. I have stopped reading much of the news as I just, as they say, I just can't.

Pervading sense of loss. And disappointment. Life, the parade (not Trump's), travel, adventure (did I want that),  I would like to recapture some sense of possible opportunity.

My sister still lingers, at least of this writing. I came across this silly rattan cat purse thing (these people say it is worth $500). Carole had one that was a monkey. She had painted it white. I thought it was the coolest thing ever. I wish I could share this with her. She would get a real kick out of it. Funny how some small moments with people still blaze.

Since I have been on a steady exercise/sobriety/low food intake regime for about six weeks, maybe I should get crazy and have some pizza.

A couple of hours and a lot of sorrow later.

A week or ago, I noticed the remnants of a funeral arrangements out by the trash next door. I finally happened to see one of the neighbors, Gus, and asked him if there had been a recent loss in the family. He said that his wife, also named Sally, had lost her younger brother recently. Her older brother had died five years ago.

Sally and I ran into one another at the trash cans this afternoon. I expressed my condolences and spoke to her of Carl's passing and how hard that had been, and continues to be. We hugged and cried. Not exactly a light encounter out by the trash.

Then, my mom went to take a nap. I was sitting here, as ever, trying to write. My mom wanders in without her glasses and says something along the lines that the doctor called while I was out and that they told her to go to the hospital.

Yeah.

Well, it is Saturday and unlikely that they called today as I haven't been any farther away than the aforementioned trash cans. I somehow thought to call the doctor's office to see if I could get any more information, even given the weekend. Fortunately, they did have someone there to look at her chart. She has had a cough for quite awhile now so they gave her a chest x-ray. They saw something and have requisitioned at CT scan. Nodules ...

So, now I am sitting with this, trying to get a read on the awfulness of it all and the relentless cool and grey out there. And then my brother David calls to tell me that my sister has passed away.

I don't even think a DiFara pizza could help me at this point. My niece who has also not been eating or drinking due to health reasons during all this time her mother was passing away still had the humor to share a food and alcohol fantasy with me.  Pitcher of margaritas and nachos.  No.  Tequila and ceviche.  Or amazing Chardonnay and linguine with clams.  All things that would help right now

I agree with that. I might settle for pizza and maybe a gin and tonic.

Three slices and several hours later.

The gin and tonic doesn't even appeal all that much. I want to crawl into a ball and descend deep into unconsciousness. I can't tease out all the parts of my sorrow. It's a rather free form depth here.

After posting a word about this on FB, I received many sweet sweet condolence notes.

One FB acquaintance, a Princeton lit professor, offered me this poem when I asked.

NEVER AGAIN WOULD BIRDS' SONG BE THE SAME

He would declare and could himself believe
That the birds there in all the garden round
From having heard the daylong voice of Eve
Had added to their own an oversound,
Her tone of meaning but without the words.
Admittedly an eloquence so soft
Could only have an influence on birds
When call or laughter carried it aloft.
Be that as may be, she was in their song.
Moreover her voice upon their voices crossed
Had now persisted in the woods so long
That probably it would never be lost.
Never again would birds' song be the same
And to do that to birds was why she came.

— Robert Frost

Which also reminds me of the Hunter-Garcia song for Janis. (Forgive them, for they sing off key.)

BIRD SONG

All I know is something like a bird within her sang
All I know she sang a little while and then flew on
Tell me all that you know
I'll show you
Snow and rain

If you hear that same sweet song again, will you know why?
Anyone who sings a tune so sweet is passing by
Laugh in the sunshine
Sing, cry in the dark
Fly through the night

Don't cry now
Don't you cry
Don't you cry any more
La da da da

Sleep in the stars
Don't you cry
Dry your eyes on the wind
La da da da da da

All I know is something like a bird within her sang
All I know she sang a little while and then flew on
Tell me all that you know
I'll show you
Snow and rain