A wobbly spring

by cathrynbauer

Prince Frederick trail just south of the condo.  This old barn was probably a remnant of a tobacco farm.

Well, seems like a long time since I wrote, a lot of water over the dam, but that’s not true chronologically.  Not everything that happened this week was bad, certainly not for me, but the week was stressful and difficult.  I did my first jobs with a new agency here in Maryland (I am finally commissioned as a notary here; still waiting on DC and Virginia).  The first one was a day and a half, a pretty good job overall.  The second was not.  They sent me to sub in the local courthouse.  There were the familiar stresses and uncertainties and a demanding judge I didn’t like.  Twice during the day, I was a lot closer to a violent offender than I should be, than would have been allowed in Alameda County.  Any time you start with a new agency, there are a lot of questions and unknowns about how you’ll get along.  I think they like me because they’re already talking about keeping me busy.  But it was just hard.  It will get easier, but being new everywhere in a job where there’s so much essential detail is damned exhausting.  But I probably got off on the right foot with that agency.

I put some effort forth to get to know someone and found I didn’t care for them at all.  Enough said there.  Went to the Full Moon celebration and made an effort to engage with other women there, what they’d said in check-in, but felt like nobody really saw me or asked me anything about what I’d said.  It wasn’t a good feeling.  Then again, I can see where they would want to talk to those they were already friendly with.  But it felt lousy, enough to make me think that yes, I was going to try again, but not indefinitely.   And what was really wrong with this week happened in the last 24 hours before the ritual.  It would have helped to have been shown some concern.

What’s really wrong is that I received news of two sad and terrible deaths.  I learned that Robert Price, fellow ghastly teenager, had died after years of the very worst, most virulent type of alcoholism.  He was savagely mugged and beaten, spent weeks in the hospital as a result, and probably never recovered.  He died of a massive heart attack months after the beating.  Robert was just the best company.  As chronological adults in San Francisco, we behaved badly together on numerous occasions.  He was at our wedding, and it was good to have him there, the sole representative of my early years.  I’m sure now that even then, Robert was hiding his drinking from me.  I know that I never saw him drink anything more than moderately.  He was in the San Francisco Opera chorus.  Robert was so talented and just the best company.  We would tend to spend a lot of time together for a short period and then not see each other for a while.  Those whiles just got longer until I heard from a mutual acquaintance that he’d moved back to Sacramento.  Acquaintance either didn’t know or spared me the news of his alcoholism.

The second death would not have been as terrible to hear about had it not been that an innocent and loving woman suffered great pain in the process.  The partner of another old friend spent years of his life caring for his developmentally disabled sister.  I met her one time, and she greeted me with a hug.  Her brother/caretaker is now looking to sue the hospital for the lack of care and attention that she received.  I don’t know the whole story there, but I so hate that she spent her last hours in terrible pain, asking Heaven to give her relief.

I just wish I could somehow magically take these things away from everyone affected by them.  But as my friend Steven said, ultimately, we can only be responsible for ourselves.  But I would add to that, and think of the pain we cause when we don’t do so.  And worse, sometimes we simply aren’t able to do so.

I believe that both of them are safe and warm in the Summerland.   I will remember them at the altar on Samhain, and I will keep my eyes open for ways to memorialize them before that.  I hope that Robert is listening to or better yet singing the St. Matthew Passion as I write this.  And yesterday, I made the effort to move ahead past these awful things I can’t help and the lesser disappointments of the week.  It was a good day, really.  Got some work done, went to the Aquatic Center, took off for Annapolis with Ted for some retail therapy and to see The Artist at last.  It was a brilliant and original movie, well-deserving of all the attention and Oscars.   Finally spent the Macy’s gift card I got at GWSRA on some silver ball earrings, also got my own pair of Bose headphones, and that was quite enough retail therapy for one day.

And in the midst of all this, things have been heating up with the whole house sell-one-buy-one business.  We have to decide whether we want to remove the contingency on the new house no later than tomorrow.  It seems someone else wants the lot without contingency.  We have until tomorrow to sign or release it.  So later this morning, we’re heading over to look at some other lots, other possibilities in that subdivision.  But if we don’t find something better, we are going to sign and move ahead.  Whee!  Since we first looked there, I have always been able to just see us really liking it.  So it’s an important day!

It’s a wobbly spring right now, one day warm, the next not.  The trees are starting to bud.  I have never had the chance before to live among so many trees, sycamore and birch.  I am looking forward to seeing Maryland and environs in the spring.

Moving forward.

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