Two Terrified Men

I once described Bob and I as the two terrified men of Mill Valley, a nod to the Two Gentlemen of Verona. We were so insular in our relationship that he couldn't have done his treatment without me and I couldn't have taken care of anyone else but him. This picture was taken on our deck, Monday the week Bob passed. It is the last time he was really outside. I rearranged everything specifically so he could watch the birds with the eye he could still see out of. We ordered way too much Chinese food because he 'wanted one of everything' and even then, I knew he was having trouble swallowing and chewing. It was only a matter of time until he aspirated food and choked to death. I watched him like a hawk but he did manage to eat safely- I pestered him about taking small bites and chewing his food well. He looks angry here because by then the left side of his face was more or less paralyzed. We were still laughing and telling filthy jokes and holding hands even though he looks scowley. I would have been on his good side but I needed to make sure he didn't miss things on the side he couldn't see out of. I remember the day was warm, and it was breezy. A lovely fall day. We even opened the awning we got ourselves for our 13th annivesary, that he always wanted for the house so we could sit and watch the sun go down without me getting burned. We both sat there are nibbled the food lightly. Eventually we stopped talking and just sat there. Both of us were terrified. He was terrified of what was coming. I was terrified of what was coming after...which I now know was with good reason. We got in more than a few arguments in the last months, which we realized too late was really the fault of the Keppra, an anti seizure medication. One of them was over "how much happier I (Steve) will be when this is all over (meaning when he was dead)!" Without missing a beat I said "The real hard part for me starts the minute you die. When you're gone. I'll be alone...dealing with whatever happens without your love and support." We both started crying because he realized I was just keeping my face together all these months and it was an act. And that was the last time we argued.  I am so glad he isn't here for what is happening with the country. I am glad he is not hurting anymore. He knows all the answers to the questions he had. 

HE would have been 73 tomorrow. March 29, 2025. I miss him terribly. Grief is awful. 

Lawyer Speak / This bile had to go somewhere

 

I'm learning to read letters from lawyers. We're $50,000 in to this bullshit mindfuck. This translates loosely as: "When is Steve going to move out of the house his husband just died in 5 months ago so we can sell it and everything inside it?"

No really...that's what's happening. 

They wanted me to pay rent. While I pay 100% of the expenses. Taxes. Maintenance. On a home my late husband spent 32 years paying off - in 2019. They contacted me FOUR DAYS after Bob was buried (ignoring shiva), demanding access to our home, ALL of OUR financial records, the house, and told me that everything in the house, including everything I owned, all my artwork and property was not too be removed from the house. 

This graphic is the lawyers most recent closing response.  Guess who is about to be told to go fuck themselves?

deep breath Steve...deeeeep fucking breath.

staggered / clouds

 now...

every time I think I'm falling

I'm calling 

your name...

In this whisky bar we're rebuffed and hanging back,

I'm pursued by feet, 

an imperial beat, Can't run away fast enough

into the sun,

just like on the third day when I rose to a summer sky

and a dry dry creek.

I knew my old boy's tank was empty when we hit the sandy bank on a full moon glitch

forget it in the city / standing there skinny in the pulse-beat with your salsa  and salad conditional regret..

while IT IS not WHAT I wanted in your haunted iron ore ingenue views you return

blurred escape into the cyanide wind. The speed of the stars cuts the time out of what is already gone. Black moons call to empire 

but things are quiet and 

unseen.