when words fail me, which is often, I paint. When words work for me and are available on time, I am surprised.

Saturday, March 31, 2007

Revelation 3:15/ The Ides of March

Susan came to visit me a few weeks ago. I had a virus; I bought it. I thought it was a virus protection download, but it was a virus. Anyone have an eraser? How to get that giant word SUCKER off my forehead?! I called my computer doctor, Gaylen. He said he'd come by and examine the body. I like Gaylen. He's the same age as I am, we are both 41. He retired at the age of 35. Sometimes when I call him there's a strange sound in the background.

"What's that noise Gaylen"?
"That's Gracie, my chicken. She's sitting on my lap."

He's also happily married which makes him an even better friend. There's rarely a negative turn in our conversations,unless we are talking about the current state of political world affairs, and there is no agenda on either side other than platonic friendship. It's refreshing to have a friend like him and necessary, especially if you have computer immuno-deficiency as I do.

The initial exam revealed I had to purchase a new program. We would install it two weeks later, which was yesterday. During the initial we caught up on stuff. He and his wife were putting an offer on a thirty acre farm with a pond. it's their dream to move away from the farmette to a real farm. They had been looking for property for a year. They were excited.

Susan came to visit two weeks ago, like I said before.

Susan died more than two years ago. She lost the third battle in her ten year war with cancer. When I last saw her alive, she was in a hospital in Northern Virginia. I walked to her door. I saw a little bald man sitting on the sofa eating jello, or some other delicacy ,in her room. I began to back away. The beak -nosed, bald headed man said , "Come in" in Susan's gentle voice.

Susan was my mother's only sister. My mother was the older one. The one with the blond hair and the nice figure when they were young. Susan was always the heavy sister with the most unruly dark Jewish hair.

After her first divorce when she was very young, Susan lived in our basement. I think it was 1968. Susan had the greatest Jew-Fro I ever saw. She loved Motown music and we would dance to Diana Ross playing on the 8 track for hours.

In her eulogy, she was described as a cross between Martha Stewart and Bob Villa. She grew plants, took me to health food stores, taught me to love children and care for them properly. She taught me to macrame, tie-die and draw a smiley face.

I loved her.

Susan was buried without a wig; she hated that wig. Her bald head was visible through the holes in the lace veil.

Two weeks ago she stood before me with her blazing ice blue eyes and nine inch tall, dark, thick ,Jew-fro. She was cloaked in an emerald green velvet cape. Her beautiful high cheekbones were warmly colored. She is the archetype of the fertility goddess and the goddess of hearth and home. She is also the one who lost her battle with cancer.
Without speaking she told me that some suspicious cells have been identified.

I wondered for two weeks whose cells she was speaking of, mine? Tate's?

Yesterday morning Gaylen and I met to install the new program in the office computer.

"I've had a rough morning" he said. "The doctor called this morning with my wife's test results. She has class four inoperable cancer. I never imagined my life without her"

6 comments:

thirdworstpoetinthegalaxy said...

Goodness. My best wishes to Gaylen and his wife both.

Matt said...

Wow, that's heavy stuff. I'm aggressively atheistic (a Bright) but it's little wonder why people fall to their knees and pray and pray.

Don't believe in god but once something really bad happened to me and I sure prayed.

Funny about the Jew fro, though. I had an Irish fro.

Peace out.

Jerri said...

Light and love to Gaylen and his wife.

Amazing about Susan and her message to you. Did it worry you? What an rich dream life you have, Stacy.

Stacy said...

Thank you Third Worst. I worked with the wife today. If I was a lesbian, I'd be infatuated with her. She's precious!
Matt, believe in something good. What would you call it,an Irfro?
Sometimes Jerri, I can't tell the difference, awake/ dreaming. Here/ there. I am always afraid of the what if's but I really love and miss my Aunt Susan.

Anonymous said...

It's funny that you say that he is married, like that makes a difference to you. Next thing you will be taking up with Jerri. You don't seem to mind that someone is happily married. Tate was someone else's sole mate before he became yours.

Stacy said...

A: Have you considered therapy? Prozac perhaps?
Sole mate, the bottom of the shoe which wears off in the street and rolls into the gutter, where it belongs.
I think Jerri is amazing! but I would NEVER leave MY Tate, he's so yummy and he's my true Soul Mate.