I admit it: I'm really having a hard time with Henry's accident (see post below). He is closer to me than family, and I'm terrified. He has brain damage. What if he doesn't remember me? What if he's different and we aren't friends anymore? I can't imagine my life without him.
His partner, Reg, has been kind of a trick bag. He called three times right after the accident. Saturday he told me that if he didn't update me, Henry would never forgive him. However, by Sunday night, he was clearly annoyed with me. Phyl, the neighbor who drove Reg up to Miami, and is staying with Henry while poor Reg has to go to work, is obviously, a nice woman. But I've never liked her. She drinks too much, smokes too much weed, and is a sloppy drunk. Over the years, I've never enjoyed her company. I've always told the boys that if they want to hang with her when I'm down visiting, great. But I'm good with my own company. I'll stay at the hotel by the pool, or walk Duval Street or have a margarita on the beach. Whatever. Enjoy! I just don't want to see her. It's worthy of note that Reg has never wants to see her, either.
Well, Sunday, Reg kept saying, "Look, I know you don't like Phyl, but ..." I have said nothing negative about Phyl throughout this ordeal. "I know you don't like Phyl, but she's Henry's other half. I'm glad she's staying with Henry, even if you don't like her." Over and over and over!
"I don't matter in this," I finally said. "You do what's best for you."
He told me that the sound of my voice made him cry, and he doesn't want to cry.
I asked him if he wanted to stay at the hotel in Miami another night, because I could make that happen for him. I'd be happy to pay for it. Just tell me how ...
"I'm sick of people asking me questions I can't answer!"
So now I'm just "people?"
I told him he doesn't need to update me anymore. That I'll be happy to get news from his friend, Patrick -- I adore Patrick -- if that would be easier. He said that was fine. I haven't heard from him since.
I know Reg is suffering. The love of his life almost died. If Henry's personality is changed, what will that do to their relationship? And then there's money. If Reg isn't working, he's not getting paid. They were broke before this happened. The enormity and complexity of their financial woes must be crushing.
So I hear from Patrick every day. I am super perky at work and then I go him and go to sleep -- which is stupid because I have to much to do to get my home ready for the next stage of my bathroom remodel. But I'm hurt and scared and I feel very, very alone.
So for inspiration and solace, I turn to my skipper. Cubs manager Joe Maddon. He will help me get my mind right.
I must remember that Henry would want Reg and I to get along. That Reg is doing the best he can in an impossible situation. That I am healthy and lucky to be healthy. That I have to be about love and stay about love.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Wednesday, October 17, 2018
I must remember: this isn't about me
Posted by The Gal Herself at 10/17/2018 05:18:00 PM 3 comments:
Labels: baseball, Depression, Friends, Henry
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