The Man who Loved Cat Dancing...
Life is a funny thing... I've written a lot of words and in my day- so very long ago- I was considered a pretty good ad man- I was adroit at crafting phrases to persuade you to buy stuff...
Even had a few moments of local fame & glory. It all passes. Into the nevermore or the Up! & Out! Or the Oh! So! Very Far Away...
“Once Upon a Time” I was considered a pretty good fella to know. Long ago.
But in that long ago and far away I looked at things other people wrote and I do believe the prettiest phrase I ever beheld was...
“The Man who Loved Cat Dancing”
The Man who Loved Cat Dancing... the reference is here:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Man_Wh ... at_Dancing
Yeah, I know it's Wiki, but they aren't too bad for things that can't be biased Leftward- for all the rest? At least they give you links to follow- but they are a poor source unless you use all the links.
Two years ago at this time the EMT's & firemen & policemen were dragging Miss Emily purple corpse out of the bathroom to lie on the floor. Before carrying her away.
I let Cole-boy sniff her dead body-- and I still don't think he knows she is dead.. In his simple mind I suspect he thought Mommy was playing some new & amusing trick and would eventually get up.
Except she did not, and I am left standing among the ruins.
No will. No money. No medical plan... Emily, you sure left me with a Hell of a mess.
It's funny how life repeats itself- Helen really never believed those two cancers she had could kill her- I was the one left holding the bag of “what the F**K do I do next?”
What, indeed, do I do next? I'm old & tired & alone. In six hours the food stamp people will call me and? I'll deal with them the way I always dealt with bureaucrats- politeness & flattery & a few artful dodges-- “I'm dyslexic... “ ( I actually am- I have trouble with forms & the written word. ) and “I'm hard of hearing...” ( Yes, it's funny how all those loud noises make you deaf... if I can read your lips I don't do too bad... )- and if that doesn’t work I can call a lawyer or three.
I don't know what you do with it- the love, the hurt, the grief... the sadness & the anger. The loss... what do you do when half of you dies?
What do you do?
The first time around it was My Own True Love I lost. Yes, there was fire & passion... and a lot of things I have told you about, and some things I have not- but she was my dearest friend.
Then there was Emily, the cool breath of wind who showed me that after the grand passion had burned itself out I could still love another woman.
The grand passion wasn't there- but still, I loved her. She, too, was my best pal.
I don't know where all of that goes, when it gets up and goes away from you.
I just do not know what to do, or what you do, with it all.
So I will hie myself up those long & winding stairs one mo' time... get cleaned up and face another day with two- count 'em, 2-- dead wives behind me.
Talk to the food stamp people... get those files to Miss MaryAnn... and carry on for another day.
I don't know what else to do.
It's another day in Paradise...
This ain't Hell, but you can see it from here...