The Silence of Friends 

Saturday, September 10th, 2016 – 9:33 am

Shrieking whistle is a welcome assailant

The buzz in my ears isn’t returned, for it never left

I simply hadn’t time to listen to her screaming

I didn’t have the luxury to shut everything out and indulge in my devoted, high pitched stalker, that violating bitch who is only at her most penetrating in the dead and the dark

It took everything to recapture her maddening, beautiful cry this morning

How I missed hearing and wearing her wailing ring

I walked directly from my bedroom to the living room, grabbed my laptop and stepped onto the back porch.

Just. Like. That.

It has been a weak week since I have felt well enough to regularly venture into the back yard. This is the first time with the walker.

I told Amy and Brittany that today was my worst morning ever, but they quickly corrected me. They clarified that last weekend was far worse. When I said I didn’t remember that, they claimed it was because I was unconsciousness for a lot of it. I was unable to get out of bed for a most of Saturday through Monday. Supposedly.

Brittany also tried to remind me that I was not at all myself when she and Devin came over on Labor Day. I was someone else, however similar looking. She said I barely moved, while staring blankly ahead and using caveman grunts instead of civilized words. Maybe I have worse memory loss during the times I’m an ass. I literally didn’t remember their visit.

Now I am using an electric pen for the first controlled high CBD dose of the day. It almost immediately is slowing and silencing the seizures and I’m opening the laptop lid. I’m finally typing. These. Very. Words.

The cannabis has also calmed the convulsions enough that I can focus. I literally am remembering myself. Again. I’m hearing and seeing other things besides bobbing horizons. I finally notice or care that it is sunny this morning. A bluebird materializes that moments earlier I could never have acknowledged. My head is no longer shaking violently. In the encroaching hush, I can even hear my tinnitus again. Possibly for the first time, this hateful twenty year nag has evolved into a familiar and attractive escort.

It has been a full and hectic morning so far. I put on a whole shirt by myself, stepped outside and opened a laptop lid. Just like that.

It took me over forty five minutes.

Final Exam – Life 101

(All questions will be multiple choice. You only have 75 years to answer. Start now.)

1) Bad things happen to good people. This is because (please pick only the least terrifying answer):

A) God is teaching you a lesson

B) He is using you to inspire others or paint you as a cautionary tale

C) Nothing happens for any reason whatsoever and everything is random chance in a cold and chaotic cosmos lol

D) *silence*

My neighbors are in full force this fine A.M. Their routine is to mull the mundane and melancholy in the morning shade. They discuss pills and bills with the distance and efficiency of bored board members. When he must assert executive power, the tension is uncomfortable, but only for the rest of us. They spend most of their days on the takeover of this hostile world, where they can only hear the echo of their own abandoned voices.

Listening to the loving or lagging timbre of senior couples interacting may be the most instructive of all life lessons.

Will we all necessarily devolve into much ado about anything; tripping into talks over bowel movements, mealtimes and medicines? These oldyweds simultaneously orchestrate and perform the same tiring dance they have for decades. I wonder what their graceful lines looked and sounded like when they first fell in love fifty years ago?

He apologizes for raising his voice and her forcing him to be stern. He says he is just tired and confesses he is running out strength and patience. Then he promises they will call the damned doctor one more time tomorrow, to discuss the progression of her dementia.

Their silence suddenly stumbles and expands, searching for closure.

He tries to reassure her in the growing grays of the final season.

“Please remember that I love you.”

2 thoughts on “The Silence of Friends 

  1. I feel like it would be hard to have a conversation in their back yard with the neighbor screaming obscenities, flatulating and starting a small green bonfire. I am impressed.

    Like

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