Saying Goodbye

Monday began cloudy and cool, but by noon it was brighter. We walked with our friends and went into the village to do some shopping, and then we came home for lunch and a very, very chill afternoon that began with a nap. We visited Dave, next door, we played fetch in Rollo Park, and I putzed around and had a lovely mid-afternoon spa in the bright sunshine.

When I went to visit Dave yesterday, I found him underneath the house making some adjustments a consulting engineer had recommended. He emerged just as we arrived, and as we parted I realized that I speak almost fluently with him. And yet I can barely speak with Dwight, my pseudo-bro. I was glad to have realized this before I talked with Dr. Shoja.

I don’t know why I want to know why my speech is the way it is. What I want is to be able to speak as well with Dwight as I can with Dave. There’s no logic, no pattern, no rules I can follow; my speech is a masterpiece of disorder. It does occur to me that ‘the closer to home, the better,’ may be a clue. Around here, when neighbours drop by or I visit them, I speak well.

I feel as though I’ve been through the psychological ringer over the past couple of months, but I suspect things are better now. I feel calmer, and I have far fewer ticks and jerks. It helps that it’s Summertime. It’s so easy to be joyous when it’s bright and warm and mother nature is in full heat. I’ve never appreciated Spring more than I do now that I live right smack up against the forest, and I’m constantly walking the trails.

•

It may be the greatest moment of my life. I had just opened the door to let Jessica into my condo. She often came to stay when she had meetings in Vancouver. She lives in Victoria. And she tackled me. She thrust herself onto me with her arms outstretched, and I fell over backwards. Never before nor since, have I ever felt so loved by someone.

I had a long history with her family. I’ve written about them here. We were fast friends for 52 years and went through hell and heaven together. Her parents were the people who came here to visit and, on the night before they left, shamed and bullied me and my condition. Frani was positively vicious. I have never seen them since.

But I carried on with Jess and Todd, their daughter and son-in-law. I was always welcomed when I visited them in Victoria. But I think that is over now. I am disappointed that they didn’t help bring their parents and I back together. Todd, who has always stayed in touch by phone, has stopped calling. The last time I spoke with them, they encouraged me to visit, but they suggested I might like staying in their condo downtown. I’ve always stayed with them in the past, and that was the point of my visits. I don’t want to go to Victoria to stay in an empty apartment. All this wouldn’t be happening if Frani, a nurse, would believe in FND and my diagnoses. She has a different theory in which she has absolute faith. She thinks I am faking this condition.

The nastiness of the severance of our friendship hurt. I missed Chris and Frani deeply for two years, and I still actively miss them. But I don’t want to be friends with people who see me as they described me. Losing Jess, the woman who hugged me so passionately, also hurts deeply.

I suspect that these defections may be one reason I’ve become worse because Dr. Shoja has often used the word ‘betrayal’ in reference to my past. My birth mother, the Tyrells, the church who ran the orphanage, and the state that made it a crime to reveal my history to me. I never felt betrayal; I just felt alone all the time, but I can’t argue her point of view. Chris and Frani’s exit certainly felt like a betrayal to me. After 52 years of spectacular closeness, suddenly they were disgusted by me. 

I now have a ‘fuck you’ attitude about Frani, I am sorry to say. But I’m going to write Jess and Todd a goodbye letter that makes it clear that I will never ever stop loving them both, and their kids, but acknowledging that time and circumstances can bring an end to a friendship.

•

I see Dr. Shoja at 9:00. I have lots of notes. Then I must apply myself. There is a ton of work to be done and I’ve been lazing the days away of late. I like doing nothing. But there is a lot of weed whacking to do, and a lot of raking and schlepping. The fountain needs attention, the Ivy needs trimming around the Pinecone Park sign on the shed at the highest point of the wall, just as the roof peaks.

I also have wood to split. There’s an endless amount of work to do. Summer is so demanding, all the gardening and watering, it’s nice the sun sets so late. I have lots of time for relaxing no matter how much work there is to do.