I have been in communication with the friend that has taken on the role of custodian for the mother.
We have spoken and texted and e-mailed.
Here is my dirty little secret- I never visited her in assisted living, even though I had been rather dedicated and faithful in the past. I had been a fixture in her life, ever since her son, my dear friend, committed suicide in 1985.
Then I failed.
I chickened out.
I am that big of a coward.
How can you go on when both of your children are dead?
That is what I asked my custodian friend. That is what I asked myself. I didn't come up with a suitable answer.
The service was beautiful.
I wept the whole time, leaning on my friend J, who I have known since 6th grade.
You never talked
Is what I said to him, of our youth.
I never talked, until I was 20. I never really talked.
Is what he said of our youth.
There was a punk rock icon in attendance.
We talked about choosing a school for your child.
We talked about how weird it is to be old.
To have time pass.
We talked about people we knew in common.
I had forgotten to eat, so by 3:00pm I was an inarticulate, dry mouthed mess.
I like your dimples.
Is what the mother of the two dead people said to me.
We talked about art for children.
Are you still teaching?
I am director at a fancy preschool and kindergarten, with 170 children.
She likes impressive things.
She likes people to be accomplished and beautiful.