At the Villa, and I’ll say it once more, and more, and magnified— All PRAISE be to the Nurse.
She, my Queen, called in. Me here at the dinner where we ate dinner no more than a couple hours ago, if that, writing and listening to something chill. Thinking about the day, my phone call and messages with S…
Making a move, and I am not concerned with any seismic disruption or interrogation or questioning. I’m moving different, I’m a layer of new layers.
Patterned ways are DEAD. Symbol of the possum outside eating our fucking cat’s fish and chicken brick and little food pebbles, telling me something. What, you’ll ask. Easy.
Don’t ask, just take.
Take your story, take your place and presence, your contour.
Gratitude, and because of the NURSE, no one else except for my kids, has me quiet and pensive in the most healthy way.
Looking around me, what the Nurse has done and accomplished, materialized through her struggle and production and tireless incumbent abundance, I am have to stop. Stop writing, look around me. Deconstruct or just SEE, where the writer is.
I message her, knowing she’s with a patient….
Getting in shower soon, then bed. Waking early, luckily I, WE, have the coffee drinks I — WE!!!! — bought at the store the other day. Lifesavers for the drive.
Today taught me a lot, not posting but se it in the book, you can count on that. All in the bottle, MANUSCRIPT, read by someone.
Maybe just me.
Thought about a lot today. My life, my work.. if you could call it MY work… and how I arrived where I am. I asked the Nurse where she wants to be in a year, after I posted a memory of us having Old Fashioned’s by her pool a year ago to the day. She said…. Something.
It’s for us, not for the blog or book.
She is any smile you see from me. I am still and humbled and a mute.
Missing her, but so proud of that human and to be hers, and not with someone that always harangues and browbeats and henpecks and scolds… how is this real.
It is.
She is.
I’m alive.
Finally.
FREE.
Here, on a laptop at the Villa.