Postcards to a past

 Peggy,     No, I'm not ready for that yet. I'm not really a writer, anyway. I would so something with you. Though that may turn into babysitting, too.     Well, she is a lot more powerful than me. When we are together out in the world, she doesn't let me disappear, no, no, that's not the word. Hide. She doesn't let me hide. The fear is that she will get enough of that shit and disappear. Then life will go dark. So I work. It is the best when we are like a game of Tangrams. So.....maybe....      Yeah, if I had the money, I would change this house. I've done some things, mostly painting. Kitchen floor, painted the cabinets, new ones are just not possible. New windows that I will be paying for for a few years, which is not too bad. New lawn, front and back, and I was able to do. So, slowly I guess. Painted bedrooms, my daughter left hers a hideous green. New siding, new furniture, new appliances, etc, etc.

 Peggy, Yeah, I know. Two months. Yeah. I know. Four times. No, five.  Sorry.  So the tour smoothed out. Well, your publisher... She really walked away. I didn't think they could do that, especially at her level. I agree, saying "I'm sorry" is a chicken shit fuck all of you and also for someone at her level, seems extremely childish. I don't condone violence (more on that later), but seems like a movie scene boss gets slapped in the face in real life. I'm glad you didn't. Who am I to say that? I don't know. I don't know. You knew. You always knew what needed...no, what we needed, what you needed, what you could give to us (and it always felt like give-to-me...) Always helping. Babysitting in my case. And this is now going to turn into a session of, "Help me, I don't who I am anymore. Don't know what to do anymore." Remember...no, that's not fair. I went through a time trying to disappear, but by not wanting to disappear, that ...

 Peggy,     I am not doing well, either.  No. She is here with me. As much as I will let her, anyway. I have been working long, long days, some nights, so we haven't seen much of each other over the last month. The being apart is part of it. I have had blackouts, frozen moments, frozen mouth (hard to find words, I mean). She hasn't seen any of this, and I haven't said too much. Little hints, and her voice tells me she knows. I'm too tired, scared to give her the full narrative. Yes, I know. I know. She has been too kind.     I don't want this to happen to me. Not now. I can't lose her but I don't think it's right that she go through this with me. She has so much life. Yeah, sounds like the hero boyfriend. Don't think that's it. Yes, it is nice to have her there even if a voice out of a speaker. She knows. And then there's the losing her on top of my shit, probably my step off the cliff.      Man! This is such shit! I want to qu...

Peggy,        Don't. Just don't. Who will you have left? Me?? I'm a thousand miles away. Ron?? He's in Europe.     Sometimes I just get tired of the struggle. (Yeah, it's coming.)     But, I cry. I eat. I read. I write to you. Get's me through til next time.     Call me.

 Peggy,     Shit, sorry it has taken me two months. Of shit, fatigue, anger, so the usual.     No, hospitals are not for getting rest. I think I understand what happened. Sounds like fatigue piled on top of stress, piled on top of fatigue, piled on top of stress from the assholes, piled of top of worry stress. Seems to me anyway. And why was he in also and right after you? That sounds like something that didn't need a hospital setting. Yeah, they do tend to bring out the emotions in kids and long lost relatives. Glad you are now doing ok. Shit, I am assuming...shit, but knowing your strength and resolve.     Yeah, painting isn't hard, just boring. Please don't move. I plan to take a trip and you are on the route. And the east coast sucks, well you already know that from the tours.     Yes. This started out shitty, but she has been traveling a lot again, so that's where the shit came from, and the touch of anger. It passes....

 Peggy,     So I went to this art show recently, (Ok, ok, she took me; I tend to shy away from shows because of my color-blindness) and I saw a piece that reminded me of all of us when we used to "get together" at your mom's house. Someone had created a pretty large piece in the spirit of, oh, shit, I'm not sure, she told me but now the name has left me, 16th or 17th century era group of nymphs or revelers kind of thing. But the artist put us in a city park occupying a picnic area kind of area, picnic tables, barbecue pits, bathrooms, that whole big gathering at a park place. I thought it was great. She didn't totally agree with me, the realism thing isn't quite her thing.     Send me the dates for your tour, so I (maybe, we) can meet you. I don't know how you go through all the business aspects and still sit at your desk every night. My imagination prevents me from pursuing a book because of it.     Yeah, old age and pain are one and th...