T Day Minus One

For as difficult as my students were yesterday, they were angelic and cooperative today. They listened, they followed directions. What had been like swimming against a riptide yesterday was like taking a lap in a short pool today. Three students were absent but they weren't conspicuous, not the usual suspects. We had a minimum day. At lunch Laura and boyfriend came to visit, hoping to catch my students before they went home. She is such an astute observer of children. She can capture their little personalities in a matter of minutes. She gives valuable input. But there wasn't any classtime left, so she headed off to get some sandwiches. I left school shortly after the children only to notice that someone had scraped the car in the staff parking lot. Darn!

I got home right after 1:00. You were sitting in the family room waiting for Laura, not knowing where she had gone. I said she had gone to get the best sandwiches in the world. She came home shortly after that bringing me a roast beef, my favorite, which I tried not to eat too fast. You asked for a few bites and I gave you the last of it, but then your stomach started hurting. You wanted to go to the tee short store to buy some long-sleeved tees and then pick up some pain medication. First you needed to rest a while. When you lie down on your left side the pain will diminish. One of the three Roses in my life came by with some Ensure she had. We chatted and you were then ready to go. I guess Rosie stayed too long. As I was walking her out, another Rose drove up to see how you were doing. She had been ill and didn't know you were home from the hospital. As she was looking at you in shock, you went into the house to get some water. When you came out, one of the little teacups tried to follow you, and the security screen door slammed on her. She screamed like she was dying. Oh, it was horrible! The shrieking was unnerving and we were all worried she had a broken bone. At that point you became livid. You took off in the car, with me in the passenger seat, speeding down the street, rocking wildly over the speed bumps. and cursing. Cursing again. Blaming the dogs, blaming Laura for not watching them closely enough, blaming me for not perceiving your desire to leave when Rosie was here but never blaming yourself for not being careful, not accepting your pain and the how it makes you feel weak, frail, out-of-control, tired, and unable to concentrate. You railed that you shouldn't have counted on anyone (??). I guess that was to make me feel bad for not reading your mind. "Didn't you know I wanted to leave when Rosie was there? Why did you sit down and talk with her? And she was talking about hibachis! I didn't want to hear about hibachis!"

"Okay," I said. "You want to blame me because I didn't realize you wanted to leave then. But I didn't know it. I'm sorry but I know that won't be enough for you. You want to rail on me. So have at it. Go to town. Knock yourself out." I guess that deflated you. You couldn't do it. You were remarkably quiet for the rest of the ride. You need to watch your temper.

You didn't acknowledge me at the tee shirt store. It's your small attempt at being in control, at hurting me. That won't work anymore but you keep trying, probably because it used to work years ago. You bought a couple of shirts. When we left the store, I offered to drive. You declined. Then you started down Sepulveda. Turning left onto Slauson you ran the light. FLASH! Smile, you're on Culver City Camera. Those were a couple of expensive tee shirts you said. Yea, really expensive tee shirts, and I'll probably end up paying for your ticket. You better be taking your meds because I'm not signing on for another manic episode. This cancer is enough.

The evening was wacky. I told Laura and boyfriend they were my Thanksgiving celebration, and Laura was doing her best to rise to the occasion. They went with me to the store, bought me an ice cream at Rite-Aid, and even put the groceries away. Then Laura spent three hours recoloring my hair and adding highlights and lowlights. It came out beautifully, and she was exhausted by the time it was all over. Boyfriend took a picture of the two of us with my phone when we were done. Laura made it my screensaver, and I'm sure there's some way I can send it out to people now that I have photos and internet on this new phone. We didn't go to bed until almost 1:00.

Dad seemed to be hallucinating this evening. It was identical to when he was septic a year ago August. He kept clutching in the air for objects that weren't there, grabbing as if catching fireflies. Then he would close his eyes and we'd think he was asleep, then open them again and start talking in a string of non-sequitors. "We had to pay someone under the table to get Norbert in. A guy named Dave. We gave him a thousand dollars. No one in Spokane knows about it. They're not coming down for this anyway. That Carmi; she's great. Does she want to be cremated? Do you know what kind of arrangements she's made? What's that noise on the second floor? Mr. Moon is here. He's right in the room." And on and on it went. Norbert wasn't from Spokane, Carmi's very much alive, Mr. Moon has been dead for many years, and we don't have a second floor. At midnight he had Carmi get him up and bring him out to the kitchen where Laura was finishing my hair. He thought it was time for breakfast. He was still sitting in the front room awake, asleep, awake, asleep, talking nonsense when I went to bed.

It had been a very strange day.