Thoughts and prayers

Received a sweet condolence card today from a neighbor who wrote a wonderfully (if unintentionally) insightful note.

To wit: "I am so sorry for your loss; you are thoughts and prayers."

Thinking about it, I am thoughts and prayers--that sums up my modus operandi these days quite nicely.

Did quite a bit of thinking and praying this weekend, as I did end up going to Ptown after all. Either I was feeling better or was I not sick enough to let almost $400 go down the drain--can't rightly tell you. (Feel almost completely humanoid today, in case you were wondering.) The drive there was smooth and easy, while the drive back was a slow, numbing bore--until I got off the Cape itself.

While I do enjoy the ocean and a terrifically GLBT-friendly environment as much as the next queer, I found all the rest and serenity I accumulated over the weekend sorely tested by the tedium of covering the 4.8 miles before the Borne Bridge in about an hour-and-a-half.

It irritates me that the memory of the terrible traffic is almost more pronounced than that of the dear friends, old and new, I met over the weekend.

So no, I won't be heading back to Ptown any time soon, but I do hope I get to see the old friends again--they're in NYC these days, a much easier place to get to and from--and soon.

Last night, I went to an enormous fund-raiser for a tremendous non-profit that drew every liberal for miles, or so it seemed. The organization is led by one of Chloe's moms, so I was there to support her and her family; they've been oh so very good to us, after all. It was all very interesting and motivational, until after the speeches were done and I noticed that one of the many people milling about included one of Linda's oncologists. That threw me for a loop, as seeing her sparked a sort of hyperspeed slide show in my head, followed by a sinking feeling in my stomach. (Am grateful I didn't have any appetizers, I'll tell you that!). That was followed by another one of my sudden, but short (thank God) public cries. Thankfully, the people who were seated next to me knew my story, and they were very sweet.

Ah, the sweetness makes it so much easier. Well, easier isn't really the word. Less difficult?

Today I went back to the marble halls, and had a pretty good day, considering I found myself talking about Linda's last days with someone I've worked with a time or two. It felt very good to talk about it, and better still to have another person validate my feelings on how Linda left this life. It was terrible, true, but it was beautiful. It was an honor and a privilege to have supported and been witness to her journey, and I hope my brain will allow me to keep the memories and feelings alive for as long as I live.

Well, that's enough for a Monday, I dare say. Love from me and the--three guesses--snoring sweetness, aka Shwea