Flowers for my mother

just some thoughts

My mother has been diagnosed with a type leukemia. It’s been very fast and very shocking, but I know that she would love your prayers if you pray, your candles if you light them, and your thoughts if you have them. Thank you.

We have a strong and loving family.

The universe is abundant.

Sophie turned 27 years old yesterday, and what is there to say about that but — well — I’m thankful. I felt slightly panicked when I realized that Sophie has no real friends to invite over. This is a fact but there’s some distortion in it, as there are plenty of people in Sophie’s life that love and are devoted to her. Still, it’s always weird when the day comes along, and I feel both gratitude for her life and a bit of sadness or melancholy for what is. There was cake and a small party in the park with Sophie’s posse of nannies and little children, lots of beautiful presents and balloons. It was beautiful. About an hour ago, I heard Sophie having a seizure and made my way down the short hallway to her room. I’ve probably written that sentence a thousand times on this blog and made the trip a million times. I comforted her, settled her and then sat by her until I felt she was ok. I got up to go back to the kitchen to clean up and went to walk out the door of her bedroom when I turned back around and said I love you. I said it because I do love her, but I also said it in case it’d be the last time I saw her alive. I’m serious. I’m terribly conscious of how weird that is to think that way, to live that way and still be thankful and still be generally ok. If you know, you know.

As Oliver said when he was about seven years old, Who lives like this?

I don’t have much to write this evening but feel rather disconnected from the larger world and mainly even dissociated from all of it. Then again, I feel mainly furious about the situation in Ukraine and disgusted by the politicians of Florida and those who voted for them. It just seems atrocious that in 2022 we are still as a species marching around claiming land and killing people over it. WTF, as the kids say. It strikes me as ironic that while the Ukrainians are heroically defending their homes and people, certain Americans are freaking out over books and homosexuality and gender issues and whether or not mask-wearing during a pandemic constitutes child abuse. The universe might be abundant, but it’s also bewildering in its indifference to the likes of Putini and that repugnant ex-Marine gov’na.

As my father has always said, in times of trouble: Molto forte e corragio.

I have a small hole in every black tee-shirt in my closet, left arm, just below the elbow. Tell me why.

I’m thinking moth.