I recover from a death and pneumonia.
I am so sorry I have been away for so long. I have missed all of you. Max and the unicorn meat eating cats are tres desolee, and have been for months, now. The kindly stepfather is gone. I took him into my home in December of last year, the day after Christmas, when he was released from the hospital with terminal lung cancer. We had Good Samaritan Hospice, and a kinder group I have never met. On January 3, 2015, Barry "Wayne" Reed went to meet his Maker.
I was holding his hand at the time. You know all of those early mornings you and I have spent together? I got up for one and Wayne was calling me. I don't remember much of what we talked about for the next several hours, but I know we discussed his son, long dead, and the happy reunion that was coming.
I don't know about anyone else, but the moment Death took Wayne, there was a trembling in the room that I was afraid of. May Wayne rest in peace, beside his beloved Brian.
In my grief, I got pneumonia. I drank. I recover slowly, stopping to breathe when I take Max, the dog, out. They changed my psych meds, with horrible withdrawals. I stopped eating processed foods and eliminated soda. The man I love, who loves me, had another operation. It's still hurts him. I rest and eat slowly and walk slowly. I don't drink.
The unicorn meat eating cats weren't confused. They have a secure grasp of all that works in the Universe. But poor Max, the good dog, no longer an "asshole", has been very patient. He has a special rug on the floor he watches me from.
It is easier to spot the trees and flowers in this city I live in. I look past the sidewalks for the grass, and search the sky for clouds and birds. My brother put in a screen door, and every morning, I open it and set a chair there for the cats to climb up on. They watch the birds fly out from under the eaves, as they search for food for their chicks. There is always a breeze.
I haven't planted my porch garden this year, yet. I was too tired. But there, on my deck, is a peace lily, with 5 big blooms, I brought home from Wayne's funeral. My perennials, the "Chicks and Hens", sit by one post of the roof.
It's enough for now.