Hold, please.

When I first began this mid-life adventure, I had the life I thought I would always have. Lots of friends, hanging out a lot with friends. Going to see bands and such with my dearest Chairman. Doing great work at the Ark, hanging out with those folks in the off hours. Just really enjoying life.

But things have changed in the last two years. Dad got sicker and sicker and he and my mom and I moved in together. That’s when my life was put on hold. Or so it seems.

I spend most days hanging out in my room. I love my mom but can only take her in short stints. My father sleeps 18 hours a day due to his heart only working about 15%. I teach so I get to talk to children a few days a week. I paint. I write. I edit. That’s my life.

Money’s been tight so I haven’t been going out because, well, there’s no money even for gas right now. I’m hoping that’ll change soon. But it’s reality.

I have to base everything on my folks. Taking a job - will it allow me to chauffeur them to doctors’ appointments and groceries, etc., because Mom is becoming increasingly dependent on me as Dad has good days and bad days. So I can’t take a job that ties me up in the mornings. And I can’t take a night job because Mom wakes up at 7 and by 9, her patience for those sleeping - no matter what time we all got to bed - wears off. I’m afraid to be out too late as I worry something will happen while I’m gone. So I’m on hold.

I have a few friends who are close and who I can count on to get me out of my room occasionally. They call and invite me out or to just check in on me, which I appreciate. But the vast majority of my friends are busy with their lives and broke as I am so they aren’t around like they used to be. And I’m not in the Ark circle anymore, so that creates even more distance because I’m not accessible. So the distance grows and the connection loosens and my support system narrows to a point.

But I miss mostly having a man around. I know it’s stupid but I do. Chairman was so close to me when I was first alone and it was so wonderful to just have a guy to hang out with, even if it was just friends. There’s something about men that we just can’t get from women. Even male friends can make you feel attractive and wanted and beautiful. While women can tell you that, they just aren’t men.

But that part of my life is on hold as well. Not like it was ever active. But I don’t know how I could have someone in my life right now and that makes me sad and makes me ache because I don’t know when this hold button will be released.

And it’s painful to basically be on a death watch for my father. It’s been so evident lately how bad he can be because, ironically, he’s been a bit like his old self the past few days. We went out for dinner the other night and he was chatting with me about what he was watching on TV and which shows he’s interested in and a bunch of other stuff. Usually at dinner, he has trouble just staying awake and doesn’t usually engage. It makes me sad because I know it’s just temporary, his life on hold as well, maybe.

The hardest thing is that we don’t know how long he’s got. He could be around for another five years like this - barely living, just existing, biding his time until there is no more time to bide. And Mom and I stand by, on hold, watching, waiting, not sure what to hope for because he’s not going to get better, that’s about all we know.

My sister watches from a distance, I’m sure judging what I’m doing wrong and how much better she could/will do, if they actually move up there with her. My brother checks in occasionally. But their lives go on, they travel, their children get older, they move through time like everyone else.

Meanwhile, I wait, staring at the walls, wondering if there is a future out there that I will get to sometime. But that would mean losing someone I love very much. Makes it hard to look there.

Virtual fridge - it's been a while.

This was my first "master duplication", which means choosing one of the old Masters - this case, Manet - and painting something of his while learning why he painted the way he did and how he used the paint, etc. Not just to duplicate the painting but to learn how to paint like Manet. I really love this one.



Another master duplication, this is a landscape by Monet. An exercise in impressionism. I kinda like it. ;}



I've been screwing around with learning how to draw noir/crime comics and these are a few of the drawings I've been messing with. Kinda like them, too.






That's it for now. Been working on some watercolors for "Cinderella Drives a Pick-Up", which is going out to Slamdance this week (finally!). Cross your fingers.

Just a single tear

You never cried for us. Not a tear that I saw. Maybe if you had, I might not have made the choice I did.

When I told you I was done with us and I didn’t know what to do and I needed some time to figure out things, you just looked at me blankly and said, for the first time in our marriage, “if that’s what you want.”

In the year of counseling, you never shed a tear. I cried oceans and screamed and let out everything and you sat there like Mr. Spock, staring, fighting, not willing to cry for us. Not a single tear.

When we packed up our home of nine years, the place I wanted to love so much but that you had made your own, not a tear. You coldly packed. I know you were hurt but you never asked why, you never said that simple, single word that might have stopped it all - “stay”. Okay, two words - “stay, please.”

When we stood outside our place for the last time and I couldn’t stop weeping, you just said good-bye, no tears, no questions. Just walked away.

In the time since, not a tear, not a sign that our marriage meant anything.

I realize I cut you off because I think I was afraid if I saw you, I might not have the strength to walk away from you. I might end up like Carrie in “Sex and the City” and just throw myself at you if I saw you and put everything behind us -- all the pain, all the abuse, all the shit you put me through. And then I might have another 15 years of the same thing. I could not do that.

But if you had just showed me that you valued our life, that you valued me, by letting yourself go enough to cry with me or in front of me, it might all have been different. But you coldly walked away, ending our relationship because you “didn’t want to be fiscally responsible” for me anymore. Not because you were hurt or you didn’t love me anymore or because you wanted to end things and move on, because you didn’t want to be “fiscally responsible”. Wow, that’s love.

Maybe movies have corrupted us into wanting, needing, expecting that moment when we open to the door to find the one we love standing on the other side of it, begging us to come back to them, that they don’t care what happened, they can’t live without us. Sorry, doesn’t happen in real life.

In real life, you end up with resentment and distance and anger and pain. And that’s it. No glorious romantic comedy moment where everything you want comes true. Just the struggle to get through the day, even now, almost four years later.

I know you shed your tears to your friends and your family. I know you shed your tears into your pillow.

But what might have saved us is if you had just shed a single tear around me.