Sunday, December 08, 2019

Sunday Stealing

From Pinterest

1. What don’t you share? On this blog? I don't share real names.

2. A reason to celebrate? It's Christmastime!

3. Describe where you are now. At my dining room table.

4. A dream that seems impossible. Winning the lottery.

5. Something you hope for. A winning lottery ticket.

6. A tradition that makes you feel at home. Singing with my shower radio.

7. The people who make your life better. My friends (because, technically speaking, my cats aren't people).

8. Someone you’d like to meet. Doris Kearns Goodwin. I'd love to talk Abe and Mary with her.

9. A silly thing you’d really like. I want an Anthony Rizzo Cubs jersey. I don't need it. I would only wear it once/twice a season. But I want it nevertheless.

10. A book from your childhood. Abe again.


11. Something you’re still not sure about. Whether impeachment is wise. Oh, I think Trump is guilty of bribery and with every passing day I'm more certain he's a blight on his office. But this is my third impeachment, and I've seen it have unintended consequences.

12. The best dessert to share with friends. Well, the last one I shared was a brownie with whipped cream. It was terrific, so I'll go with that.

13. A story that captures your imagination. I'll stay with Abe.

14. Memories beside a fireplace. My uncle was proud of his fireplace, so it made me happy to buy him fireplace related stuff for Christmas. He loved a good creosote sweeping log.

15. How do you spend a rainy day? I'd love spend it napping!


It was a stupid phone call

A serious topic, to be sure, but a stupid call. My friend Henry had a seizure at work and ended up in the ER on Tuesday or Wednesday. Friday night, he called me.

He was still rattled by the experience. He was also drunk, medicated and silly.

He gets seizures as a result of his traumatic brain injury. Which he still denies he has. He had a seizure this past week because he doesn't take his medication.

I asked him why. He said that, when he's at work and the alarm on his phone goes off, he refuses to stop what he's doing to swallow pills. He says it's "embarrassing."

I asked him if it isn't "embarrassing" to have coworkers break into the men's room and then see him loaded into an ambulance. He told me that I don't understand. He's right.

I changed the subject to my upcoming trip to see him. I told him I'd be happy to go to his new church for Christmas Eve service, and that I discovered I could walk to it from my hotel. I asked if he could get a ride.

"I'll drive myself. I can drive. I've been driving." He slurred this.

I told him that I would stay in Chicago rather than be responsible for a man who has seizures getting behind the wheel.

He changed the subject to Patrick, Reg's friend who will be coming to stay with them. He told me he thought Patrick was "creepy" and implied that he indulges in promiscuity because he was molested as a child. This is a rather dramatic accusation! Plus, Henry forgets that I not only was molested as a teen, I'm a rape survivor, so this is an uncomfortable subject for me.

I asked him what Patrick's rate of intercourse has to do with him. He said Patrick brings strange lovers into their home and Henry doesn't want to "wake up dead." This does not happen.

Fortunately, Henry said his medications were kicking in and he wanted to cut the call short. THANK GOD!

Nothing he said was true or legitimate. It's very hard for me not to shout at him.

But I know he's not himself. I know my Henry is in there, somewhere. I've seem more and more flashes of the old Henry as he struggles to recover.

I just need to hold on. To hang on. To realize he's doing the best he can.

But it's a white lie

I don't feel like going downtown today. I just don't. Apparently, other members of my movie group don't feel like it either.

For Will, our moderator, wants us all to meet at one of the multiplexes to see Meet Me in St. Louis on the big screen in celebration of the film's 75th anniversary. It's a good choice. After all, it's the movie where Judy Garland introduces "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." Will thought sure I'd be there because, as he texted me, IT'S JUDY!

Garland is adorable in the movie and her musical numbers are stellar, but I'm not all that crazy about the movie. It's overlong. Plus, it's on TV all the time (I literally saw it yesterday on the Movies! network).

I want to chill today. I want to eat brunch at my favorite coffee shop. I want to finish my grocery shopping, get my laundry done and maybe take a stab at cleaning my bathroom. I want to talk to as few people as possible.

So I told Will I was too busy and too broke to join him. It seems he's going to have a very small turn out today. He offered to pay for my admission, "a late birthday present."

I'm going to wait a few hours and pretend I didn't see it till it was too late for me to get downtown. I will thank him profusely. And that will be sincere. His thoughtful and generous offer does mean a lot to me. 

But I'm telling a white lie to preserve my alone time.