Spent Sunday with John, finally celebrating his July 3rd birthday. It was bittersweet, and it left me feeling confused.
He is so very thin and needs a cane to walk. I wasn't expecting that. I know he's been ill, he told me that he was having a hard time adjusting to the new heart medications, but still I was shocked by the toll 2019 has taken on my old friend.
He said some genuinely odd things. We stopped at the Chicago History Museum -- his request, as I was just there a month ago. They have a permanent Lincoln exhibit that includes the bed where the great man died back in 1865. I said that when I first saw it, as a little girl, it made me sad that Abe literally died at an angle, because the bed wasn't long enough for him. I felt so sorry for him.
To which John said, "So, Gal, who do you think had a more horrible death? Lincoln or Sharon Tate?"
Excuse me? How the fuck did we get to Sharon Tate from Lincoln's deathbed?
He didn't really look at anything because he can't see without the glasses he refuses to wear. Likewise when we got to the pizzeria for dinner, he asked the waiter if they had any "veggie options."
"Half the menu is labeled 'veggie,' sir."
After the waiter left, John went off on one of his diatribes about millennials. But it was a ridiculous question.
John hates millennials. And crowds. And ride shares. And men who bring their phones into the restroom. And ... and ... and ...
My friend is a grumpy old man at 64. I'm having a hard time adjusting to this.
On the bright side -- and there's always a bright side -- he seemed to have fun. I made him laugh, and that made me happy. I am confident he felt he had a good birthday afternoon, and I guess that's what I should I concentrate on.
What an odd question about Lincoln and Tate!
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry your friend is failing so rapidly.