The Doctor told her

"I'll still be your doctor," he told her,
After he'd pretty much told her
That she may well want to do nothing more.
He complimented her on the success of her struggle
"Up to now."
She'd fought the fight, had triumphed over the meager odds,
For a time.
She'd been a very good patient.

He even bent forward to embrace her,
As she thanked him for his efforts.
Within minutes, he would be walking down the hallway,
Talking about last night's game
With one of the living.

The Next Day

The day after that terrible day,
When even last hopes were all but gone,
The day after was ever harder
When that slimmest shred of hope
Had been blasted forcefully away.
Still later the frantic and despairing plea
To be carried to that place of dread,
That terminal of last frenzied hope
Still seeking the coldest and most remote avenue of help.
But all roads now were closed, all doors were shut
Against the spirit that could only utter, "Why?"

The News Today

I think I'll wear my bedazzled sweater to a gay wedding, then throw on a rumpled trenchcoat and take in a mobster arraignment in Boston. What else is there?

Last Thoughts

THEY'RE TELLING ME

"I'm afaid," says one,"I don't know how I'll live without her."
"I miss her so," says the other. "I don't want to live without her."
And I
Who remember her birth, who with her received our First Holy Communion, made our Confirmation, graduated from high school and college in the same class,walked down the aisle as each others' bridesmaids, who grieved with her as we buried our parents, who welcomed her as godmother to my first child and was privileged to share my children's love with her, and who sat with her as she learned what first was ominous and later devastating,
Now I,
who never envied her beauty and her incredible hair, or her intelligence, or perseverance, or her joy of life, or her adventurous spirit,
I feel the grief of others as a barrier;
I feel somehow deprived.

Quote, unquote

A while ago, the lyrics of a song kept running through my head, so persistently that I googled possible causes. Best answer was that it is a defense mechanism to keep you from thinking of some dreaded reality. The song was "Hallelujah." Sounds religious, but I don't know what "They say that there's a god above, but all I've ever learned from love is how to shoot somebody who outdrew you," has to do with religion. Anyway, my inner voice has finally moved on from the plight of hearing about someone tied to the kitchen chair to thoughts of quotations, familiar or not. Now when I'm driving alone in my car, I hear: "Hey, Lenny, I just tried a new shampoo---want to feel how soft my hair is," and "Wow, Phinney, you were able to climb way up in that tree; now let's see if you can balance on that limb without hanging on to anything." Oh, well, nobody ever said love was a victory march, did they?

Verizon employees

In the last week or so, I've contacted quite a few Verizon employees who are cast in the role of Customer Service Representatives. I picture them as confined to a space to do their jobs, not unlike the galley rowers in the holds of those old ships, where they had to pull the oars in concert with their fellow captive workers. Verizon CSR's must speak in monotones, maintain inordinately long pauses between your query and their response, and never indicate that they could possibly be of help with your problem or question. They must excel at transferring your call to another department, and in the process of the call transfer, re-route you back to the main menu. The main menu then tells you there are too many calls to handle at whatever time you call, and suggest you try using the internet. If you persist and do reach a live person, the Verizon rep is to tell you that you've been transferred to the wrong department again, and then transfer you to another rep. If the customer pleads to talk with a live person, the Verizon rep is to agree to do so, but then transfer the customer back to the recording yet again. The good employee will, if pressed, say that a supervisor will call the customer back, and give a pre-set madeup name, like Mr. Gray, who, being fictional, will never call the customer back. The representatives need to be able to reinforce company policy through repetition, and must never waver from what they are told to repeat, even if they don't understand what policy is being reinforced. The rep may appear to be angry, arrogant, impatient, or adopt any other tone, as long as they never imply the customer is going to be helped. The ideal Customer Service Representative must above all discourage callers: Act angry, as if you hate your job, seem to be underpaid, appear to be suffering from cramps or the flu. Above all, do anything to discourage people from making those annoying calls. Let them know nobody wants to answer that @%^#* phone@

Early spring

As I sit here, I think of nothing and everything, and hold imaginary conversations. I had a funny kind of dream last night, which included scenes from our old chicken yard, the Schroder Schnauzers, a cocker spaniel, Matt Lauer, an aerial ride, massages, and a sense of my rising far from my body. I could fill in the details, but who would care? People get annoyed if they think you are keeping something from them, but not nearly as annoyed as when you try to tell them about something. Being in need has no power or attraction. Beverly Sills said she was a cheerful person, but not a happy person because she'd had too many sorrows in her life. So that's how she's remembered---as being cheerful.

Parting fractions

When my sister was a young teen, she and her friend would sit on our porch til late at night in the summertime. Sara's store closed at 10:00 p.m., and she turned off the outside light at that time. Sometimes Dorothy and Sandy would sit out on the darkened porch for a while after that. Then it was time for Sandy to go home and Dorothy would walk her home, which was five houses down River Road. When the two arrived at Sandy's house, Sandy would walk Dorothy home. Laughing all the way. When they reached our house, Dorothy would offer to walk Sandy half way home, and then Sandy would walk Dorothy half way back to her house. And so on. When they got to the point where the fractions of walking each other home were too hard for them to figure out at what point each should turn back, the earlier giggling had progressed to hysterical laughter. My father, upstairs by then, was perplexed and vaguely disapproving of 2 young girls laughing out loud on the street after dark. Such a sad thing to be chided for laughter when soon enough that spontaneous joy and friendship of youth is destined not to be lasting anyway.

Tactile

I have one of those vivid memories. I'm about 7 years old and have become the owner of a pair of Bantams, Dick and Polly. A proud owner, because my mother gave them to me; I understood she wanted me to love them and I truly did. We would come home from school for lunch in those days, and in that first year of the chickens, I would eat my lunch as fast as possible and run out to my chickens where their coop opened onto a fenced yard. I would climb up onto the flat roof of their coop and lie on it to watch the bantams, fascinated by the way that Dick would find something on the ground and call Polly over to eat it. There were giant sunflowers planted around the coop, and the huge heads would hang over me as I lay on top of the roof, supplying shade if the day was hot. Girls wore dresses to school back then, and I remember pulling the skirt down to shield my knees from the roughness of the sanded tarpaper roof. I don't remember anyone else being there with me. My brother and sister would have been home from school at the same time: I suppose they were busy forming their own memories. It seemed that time was endless,and of course that was wrong because lunch time could not have been very long. It seemed like heaven and that may have been right because I don't think I've ever been any closer than that.

The Mare's Nest

If you found a nest made by a mare, that would be a terrific discovery. Mares, however, don't make nests, so therefore there is no such thing as a terrific discovery. In Logic 101, that's a false corollary or misleading assumption or some such term. And if you THINK you've found a mare's nest, you're completely wrong, and what you've come upon is a twisted, confusing utter mess.

Death Be Not

After the doctor told her , as kindly he could, that she was going to die, she asked him how it would happen. You'll most likely just get more and more tired, he said, sleep more, and gradually ease away. He was so very wrong. Either he was continuing his kindness by deliberately misleading her, or else he didn't know. Doctors don't sit at the bedsides of their dying patients, do they?

Love-hate relationship

You would think you couldn't have a love-hate relationship with someone you don't really know, but I'm here to tell you that yes it can happen. It's like quicksand. You don't know what you're getting into, and by the time you realize that you're in danger, it's too late.

Did I lay dying?

I woke up this morning, or almost so, and my first thought was to wonder if I was still alive or if I had died. I managed to open my eyes, moved my arms and legs, and got out of bed. I'm alive.

Fear

I am very frightened of 2 things---wait, make that 3.

Crystal ball

"I can't even guess what the price of fuel oil will be this season," says the fuel oil seller, "I don't have a crystal ball." "I can't tell you whether your portfolio will grow," says the investment manager, "because I don't have a crystal ball." "I can't say for certain if the chemotherapy regimen will be effective at this point in your treatment," warns the oncologist, "since I can't look in a crystal ball." "I'm sorry to say," says the hospice chaplin, "that I don't know how long the dying process is likely to take, because I don't have a crystal ball." Would a crystal ball really help to answer any of these questions, and if so, why not acquire one? I see crystal balls advertised in various catalogs and at garden stores. They're not very expensive either.

Little Rabbit

"Help me, Help me, Help me he said,
Or the hunter will shoot me dead."
Go ahead:shoot.

An ass on purpose.

Why is it that some Jeopardy contestants deliberately sound bored? "WHAT is a toucan?" they'll ask, stressing the first word and looking as if they are insulted by the simplicity of the question. Don't they know that makes people hate them? We as viewers look at a person we never saw or will never meet, and form an opinion as to whether or not we like them. So very unscientific, but I can't help thinking that such a passing impression would probably hold true in actual life. After all, who wants to be friends with a pompous ass?

A gift, eh? Damn options!

Today I signed up with Verizon, (long story as to why.) The package for phone, cable and internet was $99.99. But wait, I have options. I can choose a $200 gift card to be spent anywhere or I have the option of having an additional $200 of services. The cost is $109.99. But wait, isn't that an additional $10.00? And for what? It sounds crazy, but I do not want any options.

Yet more options

Why don't they say, "You have the option to remain silent"? Because you could talk if you wanted to. Since you would have the right to talk, shouldn't you be read that right also? Do rights trump options, and if so, all the ground should be covered.
What to do, what to do? I have 3 options regarding my rental car. I can (1) just surrender it, and they will tow it to auction, over and done, (2) I can continue the lease, (3) I can buy it now. I bet the now price is prohibitive. I just love options. I think that Option would be a good name for a child, that or Leander. I fancy myself to succeed Andy Rooney.