April 21, 2004

8:59 p.m.

The Eve of Vermont

Somehow half the week has passed, and here I am again on the night before leaving. This time it's only for just over three days. I'll see my dyke minister friends (whose congregation thinks they're roommates, as one of them is divorced with teenage children) and possibly the strange poet from the last time I played Jamaica, who emailed me for a couple of years afterwards with cryptic and passionate poems and pleas to be understood. I wonder if he'll show up again.

Meanwhile my bro' in law, Mike, inquired of his friend about her apartment, and she pays $180 less per month, for more space, than I pay here. She said the heating bills in the winter are high. I have visions of myself knitting sweaters. The other good news is that July of '05 is the latest she'd still be there. That's sooner than I thought, and would have me at Rose and Mike's less than a year, even if I left here in September.

Booking gigs as we do, eight to eighteen months in advance, has given me a completely different sense of the passage of time. It used to seem so far away to book something a year ahead; but now we're playing those gigs and it seems like they snuck up on us. So I know that time will pass like any other time; filled with things, new ideas, new developments, and further opportunities to cherish the now. I'm very excited, even though I still have some investigating to do before I know if the Plan will work.

Today I got a tire pump for my bicycle; didn't have time to check the tires or ride yet, though. But it's a lovely, butch-looking pump. I can't wait to get out there in my tank top and check that gauge. (Sudden images of Forest Park, where I might live, and all the biking opp's.)

The other thing of note that I did today was receive a call from Will. He was so relieved to finally get me on the phone in person, and I'm sure I never let on entirely how I feel, but I was delighted to be there for the call. We talked a long time, words tumbling out of him sometimes and other times him not knowing where to start speaking. He told me about how an aide woke him up at 4:00 in the morning, all bug-eyed, and said, "Mr. (Will)... it's here!" He mumbled, "What?" She repeated, "It's here! The doctor will be in to get you in a few minutes!" He had to shower with antiseptic soap, and then another aide wheeled him down the hall on a gurney -- there was no one stirring, nobody in the halls at 4:30, so they were zipping down halls and around corners to the O.R. -- and when they got to the elevator, Will was so excited he just couldn't be still, and he asked if it was all right for him to sit up. The guy said, yes, so he sat up cross-legged on the gurney for the rest of the ride, going to meet his new heart.

He's been home 9 days and is doing fabulously well. Several times a day, he says, all of a sudden he'll remember, and think, "I have a new heart!" and in his mind a little fanfare will play: "Ta-DAAAAAA!" and he'll pause to hear it before continuing with whatever he was doing. He said it feels very like a Michael Palin moment.

He's not in quarantine, either. He was mistaken about that. He can go outside and do anything, as long as he stays away from crowds or people who obviously have colds. He's exercising, too; rides a stationary bike 40 minutes a day, and walks to CVS to get his prescriptions filled. Monday he went to the seaside and put his feet in the surf, and was unable to stop laughing for about 10 minutes.

His family is coming from Ohio to visit, maybe this week. He didn't get to see them at Christmas.

So he wanted to make sure and tell me something, and that was that all the last year, since breaking up with the Snow Queen, he'd felt he really needed to come fully back to himself in order to be ready for this event. He said it in a way that seemed to imply a reason for not giving more to me. I was very much in agreement with this; one eighteen-year relationship into a six-year relationship (ending in disaster) does not allow much room for Oneselfness. And isn't it telling about the Universe that his old heart chose the right time to finally give up -- when he was ready? My unspoken hope, of course, was that he was also implying that there would be more of him to go around very soon. He wanted to know if it was all right to call me again soon.

He also said that now we could have that dinner party at my sister's, because he still wants to meet her. "And isn't it nice," he added, "that it was merely postponed a while!" I expect that might happen in the next couple of months.

In any case, he has a new heart ("Ta-DAAAAAA!"). And I might have a new place to live soon. And I'm not broke. Life is good.