Theme from Twilight Zone
My Dearest Love,
Just when you think that it is all behind you, shit falls from the sky and the world becomes an asylum. I can't make this stuff up. How did you live with me for twenty-one years and I never knew your family was certifiably insane? The ones that I thought were so grounded are turning out to be raving loonies.
I met with your middle sister this afternoon after work so we could go over the routine for the interview we are conducting tomorrow - pretty straight forward stuff - what are we going to ask, what are our requirements, what are out expectations? I had written down a number of questions and emailed her in advance. I explained what I thought our situation was and what we were looking for and asked if that jibed with her thinking. She indicated it did. In other words, it was a pretty straight forward business meeting focused on our management of our family resources. That is until the end.
Then she got a strange look on her face. Kind of like one gets with a bad attack of gas and she said that she had something she had to ask for. She then went on to explain that she had talked to you before you took off about "doing something" for her boys similar to what you asked me to do for your brother - the donor for your stem-cell transplant. Funny, I thought. You never mentioned that to me and we talked many times about what you wanted me to do after you left.
Your sister explained that you never "really" thought that you would die and therefore you never got around to actually carrying out your intention to gift her boys. I asked her exactly what she had in mind, but she couldn't quite spit it out. She did say that her boys had to do without so much because she (your sister) was taking care of you (where was I?) and therefore she couldn't go to work and couldn't earn money and therefore they would have to go without or earn it for themselves. Her last words were quite faint, as if she were talking to herself and she said, "It really is a lot of money."
Just when I thought that things were drifting back towards some kind of normalcy, the weird fairies fly by and sprinkle bozo dust all over everything. It's like wandering into a carnival funhouse after somebody at the bar slipped you a little acid when you weren't looking. Too fucking bizarre for me - and that takes some doing.
Clinging to a small floating piece of sanity,
D.
Just when you think that it is all behind you, shit falls from the sky and the world becomes an asylum. I can't make this stuff up. How did you live with me for twenty-one years and I never knew your family was certifiably insane? The ones that I thought were so grounded are turning out to be raving loonies.
I met with your middle sister this afternoon after work so we could go over the routine for the interview we are conducting tomorrow - pretty straight forward stuff - what are we going to ask, what are our requirements, what are out expectations? I had written down a number of questions and emailed her in advance. I explained what I thought our situation was and what we were looking for and asked if that jibed with her thinking. She indicated it did. In other words, it was a pretty straight forward business meeting focused on our management of our family resources. That is until the end.
Then she got a strange look on her face. Kind of like one gets with a bad attack of gas and she said that she had something she had to ask for. She then went on to explain that she had talked to you before you took off about "doing something" for her boys similar to what you asked me to do for your brother - the donor for your stem-cell transplant. Funny, I thought. You never mentioned that to me and we talked many times about what you wanted me to do after you left.
Your sister explained that you never "really" thought that you would die and therefore you never got around to actually carrying out your intention to gift her boys. I asked her exactly what she had in mind, but she couldn't quite spit it out. She did say that her boys had to do without so much because she (your sister) was taking care of you (where was I?) and therefore she couldn't go to work and couldn't earn money and therefore they would have to go without or earn it for themselves. Her last words were quite faint, as if she were talking to herself and she said, "It really is a lot of money."
Just when I thought that things were drifting back towards some kind of normalcy, the weird fairies fly by and sprinkle bozo dust all over everything. It's like wandering into a carnival funhouse after somebody at the bar slipped you a little acid when you weren't looking. Too fucking bizarre for me - and that takes some doing.
Clinging to a small floating piece of sanity,
D.
Copyright ©2003-2007 Phaedrous
posted by Phaedrous at 8:25 PM
2 Comments:
Oh my. Sorry to hear you fell down the rabbit hole again. She sounds a bit cracked. Do you think there was some financial envy of the life you and C were able to build that was always there, under the surface, that is playing out now with you?
Funny--my word verification for this comment is "tokcx"--"toxics" to my eye. Apropos.
SSM,
I think there may be some of that. I never expected to be here myself and I would give everything I have to get C back. The money is not important. It's actually a hassle.
Down the rabbit hole. That's good. I'll have to remember that.
P.
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