Wednesday, August 5, 2009

addendum to the Do Not Do list

Somewhere after, 'Don't spit into the wind' and before, 'Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line,' I need to add -
Don't ever announce your decision to dedicate a year's attention to mortality.
Obviously, too much of a temptation to the Powers that Be to supply you with plenty of empirical data.
Of course, I meant it as a way to ease the letting go at the flight of my oldest child, a way to outsmart grief when the last of my beloved grandparents shed this mortal coil - a ploy to talk circles around loss, leave melancholy dizzy and dazed and, eventually, in the dust.

Then my dad - whom I'm not ready to be done with yet, okay? - got to star in his own ER episode complete with ambulance wailing through the miles of hilly desert - and new medical terms were introduced to our vocabulary - lovely phonogs like "angiogram" and "stent" and "nitro pills." I suppose I might have expected as much.

But this is going too far. Heavy-handed contrivance of the plot, Dear God, clumsy foreshadowing. Not one of Your more artistic efforts.

In fact, I have no use for the way this chapter of Yours is being written, too putrid-silly, too over-the-top. In fact, I am poised as we speak to throw this bathetic writing against the wall - simply too ridiculous that Fritz the Clean-Living, the Rabid Biker, would say to me a week and a half ago:

"So he didn't like what he saw," he being the sterotypical cardboard-cutout doctor in this farce, the specialist referred to after a routine check-up turned up PSA levels much too high, "and," continues my tanned and trim husband, "he's scheduled a biopsy for September."

"September!"

"Well, he said he could schedule it sooner if it was going to cause mental suffering . . . "

No, no chance of any of that around here.

"But I told him my wife was going to be out of town off and on until then anyway. I could drive home afterwards he said, but it would be better if someone could be with me."

Indeed.

The next weekend, I told a friend, as we sat in dark so dark we couldn't see each other's faces, while far across the field our children roasted marshmallows at the ward campout, that I had realized the day before that mostly I was just irritated with Fritz - how thoughtless! how could he! After my grandpa dying and my dad and now this!

She sounded shocked, "It's not like he did it on purpose!"

And why oh why is it that we mere humans are the ones who are expected to be fair?

But I had already forgiven you, Fritz, before I began to tell her - 

Really I was only making theater, making mock of myself since the universe seems bent that way anyway.

And I have a new announcement to make - henceforth I am ignoring hard, ungainly facts of death and dying. Pffft! to mortality! Universe, do you hear me? I am only paying attention to happy things and fortunate happenings and as retroactively as I can -

2 comments:

Lisa B. said...

I've been thinking about you, wondering where you've been. And I will keep thinking of you, and hoping for the best. And for nothing but a whole spate of good things, good news.

Mrs. Organic said...

You've been through the wrigner this year, I'm so sorry.

Sometimes I wish the universe didn't pay such close attention to our intentions.

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