Tag: A personal essay

She lay in her bed, with a bible clutched in the hand not encased in a cast, speaking openly about her divorce. Despite her deeply religious views, the divorce seems to not bother her at all, other than strategically.

She answers her ancient roommate, “I’ll pray for us both to get better, so we can get out of here, but if that doesn’t work, we just have to live it, one day at a time.” The old lady starts to cry, and she speaks again, “Look at it this way, at least you got 50 more years than I did before you landed here. You’ve had a pretty good life, dear. We’ll get through this.”

That stops the old lady’s crying.

The two of them talk a lot at night. Neither sleeps well, but when you are bed ridden all day, as she often points out, how tired can you possibly get?

She’s 42, and this nursing home is her final stop, and she knows it.

(dark & ugly essay warning; these feelings are just my feelings at this moment, not judgmental commentary on any reader here or elsewhere)

The idea of Unity is a sham that will never happen. We are all divided by invisible, unbreachable barriers of social standing.

We were having an amazing discussion last night, when I asked my husband how many people we could have the level of discourse we were having there were in our real world. The answer came up fairly thin. Sure, there were some, many of which have ended up living far enough away that we only see them once a year at Mini-Woodstock, most of which are people we met and befriended years and years ago. I am wondering if moving to this area was not a HUGE mistake. It seems chock full of bubbas or McMansion wannabees.

Most of our immediate circle these days are… how to say it? Sweet, adorable, fun, lovable people who think in totally alien ways to our thinking. Its not only their lack of education, their very interests and ability to make the leaps are different. Its hard to say what really binds us to them, other than convenience, other than the commonality of our social standing as members of the midwest rust belt working class.

Here on the Tubes, it is somewhat easier to find kindreds out of the thousands, at least per subject matter. You can find allies and equals to carry on nearly any level of discourse you choose. Of course, those relationships would never carry over to the real world, unless your social position is similar.

The truth of the matter is I fit nowhere. People like me don’t.  

That’s how I felt then, trapped and damned.

 He didn’t want the baby.

He wasn’t even sure about me after a year.

I understood the fear he came from, the betrayal he felt when he and Jill fell apart. I loved him so, and he would leave me if I had it. Maybe. He said he wasn’t sure, but he was positive he wasn’t ready to be tied to a child with me. We had little money. We weren’t even living together. He thought himself too unstable, I thought him the most sane being, the most enlightened being on the planet. I suppose in retrospect, with the adults I grew up with, he was by comparison. I was 22, he was 37. He had a thousand reasons, and let me know every one of them.

I always wanted a dozen kids. But I knew this man was my soul-mate. Knew upon knowing it was he that I would spend my life with, believed with all the certitude and bravado of youth. I couldn’t lose him. Couldn’t. He was my world, and introduced me to so much more of the world than my sheltered past had. He was my guide, my mentor, and I suppose a bit of the father figure that I lacked.

He claimed that I loved him now, but would tire of him as we aged, that I would be too young to want an old man later. He said he had taken lousy care of the kid he already had.He said abortion was really the only option. He railed on it, endlessly.

Finally, after many tears, he conceded it was my body, and ultimately my choice, but not to count on him in it.

I needed time to think. I had other concerns going too….

Join us tonight for an unscripted version of WWL Radio, as I discuss in raw and brutal honesty the emotional fallout of living in these times with Ed Encho and Gottlieb.

We want to hear your voices too.

Have you become more jaded, more isolated, or more involved and connected?

Has it brought a depression or a rage to your life to live in financial collapse, or endure certain job loss?

Do you feel like going postal or going fetal?

The call in number is 646-929-1264

The live chat link will be active after 5:30-ish.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/h…

Be warned: We have had ongoing technical problems with BTR, so be patient on the line, and if dropped, call back!!!!