October 25, 2005

10:22 p.m.

A Visit to Massachusetts

I spent this rainy day visiting Steve, in his round house full of dogs. His eye looks pretty good for having been operated on a week ago. His vision is still poor, but improving daily, though the field of vision is still smallish.

Since he can't drive yet, I took him into a neighboring town to do many errands, and we had lunch at a co-op. He had to buy a 50-lb. bag of popcorn (unpopped, of course) for the movie theatre, a large bag of dog food, a couple of big cases of bottled water, and various sundries including groceries. I got to carry all the heavy stuff to the car and, later, into the house, because he's not allowed to lift heavy things yet.

I got really sleepy on the way back to his house, and almost needed a nap when we got there. Instead I sat for a while in a comfy chair, with my down jacket over my lap, and we talked lazily until I perked up a little. I'd brought my table, so gave him a good Reiki session with my newfound symbol and magickghgkal powers, while the dogs whined and paced and wondered why he was lying way up there where they couldn't see him. We were laughing; at one point I said maybe I should do Reiki on the dogs instead.

He's grown a beard the last few months, and while it looks good on him, he now not only feverishly twirls his long hair, he also twirls clumps of his beard hairs. It's like his hands HAVE to be doing something when they're not petting the dogs, and the hair is the next candidate. He also repeats himself terribly, stating a fact or an opinion no less than three times in a row in slightly different ways, to make it very, very clear. It's like listening to a term paper. I observed the way this didn't bother me like it used to, because I'm not invested in being with him.

Eventually we went out for dinner in town, had a lovely meal, and I brought him back once more. We talked a bit, exchanged some books, and then it was time for me to go.

I have many thoughts about today which I guess I'm not ready to share yet. I sit with tea and a bowl that recently held warm chocolate cake, and feel my customary melancholy, despite the nice day just passed, despite the profound and exciting changes I see occurring in and around me. Today I wondered if I could imagine liking the little void that would be left if I gave up this sadness, this holding on. Would I be happy with the void... until some better part of life came to fill it?

That bears meditating upon.