New Asphalt

Well, the best part of my day was driving on the new asphalt covering the long stretch of deathly dreadful holes and patches on Buttercup Ave. It’s the only road in and out of our cluster of streets mid-island. It’s what connects us to North Road, the circle road of the island. It’s a huge improvement that is long overdue.

It was raining when I got up. It rained, of and off, all day, sometimes heavily. It’s odd, spending all day indoors. However, I am reading John of John, and I could not be happier. I’ll read anything Douglas Steward writes. I adore his writing; he’s a prose master his books feature gay characters. 

We walked again in the afternoon. As we walked our final twenty meters, light rain started falling. The heavy rain began at 16:00. It rained, sometimes, like a tropical downpour. At 18:30, there was very light rain, but the light was magnificent; the clouds had thinned. Suddenly I was enjoying the brightest part of our day. The foliage glowed in the light. The leaves have been washed of Summer dust and are shining with their coat of water. Drops of water on dipping leaves add sparkle to my view.

It was stunning to look out every window. I feel blessed to have a soul that attunes me to nature. How great is it to be able to look out a window and not see the handiwork of man? I marvelled looking out my windows last night in such beautiful light. The foliage is flush; the leaves have yet to fall. It looks so lush and healthy and vital, the forest.

Meanwhile, inside, close to the fire box, Fred is sprawled, tummy up, on a chair, and Sheba is asleep on the floor. Ethel was on the bed. All three of them use the bed every day, the twins will sleep there for hours. (Ethel and Fred; aren’t really twins, but they came to me as kittens on the same date. They are not blood related.)

I’ve written before that our neighbours had a cat that never should have been accepted from another neighbour. The cat was always outdoors, crying to get in. When that family moved, I took the cat. At the time of course, I was not conscious of the neglect I was experiencing. That was to come later. 

That cat, Alec, was my first experience with love and touch with a soul that demonstrated trust with physical connection. I felt loved for the first time. We rescued each other’s soul. He was Alec. He was white and he was always on my lap, or on my chest if I was lying down, or following me. I imprinted on Aleck. I was destined to have deep affection for cats. Fred and Ethel are indoor cats. They are always here, and all of us trust each other.

I’m at my desk. Fred and Ethel are each on their own chair. A Fedex truck pulls into the driveway. Sheba goes berserk barking. The cats scatter and I immediately get up and go to the front window. Sheba is head of security. I am cook and door attendant for Her Highness. The cats are soul food.

Newly freed by necessity from my dog walking group, and now imprisoned by the rain, I am aware of my solitude. I have a mild fear about Winter. This happens every year, and by Spring, I fear all the work that Summer brings. But both fears quickly fade. I know that. But it doesn’t stop those fears coming to visit each year.

Dr. Shoja is my lifeline. I only talk with her once a month. I see her twice a month when times get rough. But between my visits with her, she is with me. I have an incredible asthma doctor, and an HIV specialist and a cardiologist monitoring me. All of them are available at any time. 

But Dr. S. looks after my emotions. Plus, she will be with me for the rest of my life. Her lifelong service is free to me due to my diagnosis. 

Objectively, it astounds me to see a person so altered from one form of existence to another —overnight! And then to be told that the cause is childhood neglect. That too, astounds me. Dr. S. told me, early on, that neglect was the worst form of child abuse. I found that hard to believe, but no more!

I feel saved by Aleck, and all the other four-leggers of my past, and all the florae. But I had to have a soul highly receptive to these triggers of love and beauty. This aspect of my character, my passion for natural beauty is a blessing. It brings joy into my life every day now that I life here on the edge of the forest.

This is how I think: I’d rather that childhood neglect affects my body and speech, rather than my personality or state of wellbeing. I’m a happy guy by default, thanks to the nourishment of friends along the way—human, animal and floral.