I never liked pools.
But…I have never felt such weightlessness as I did in that pool. I didn’t even use it until the last
three months of our lives together. It was in the late afternoon, on Sunday. When no one else
was over except for Ella. And during the end, I didn’t want her to see it. We would have family
over on Friday for a dinner that I would cook, as a distraction. I am not a good cook, I am okay.
But the need for some kind of normalcy, of what you would eat, that I would normally never
conceive of making for us much less quests, was dictated by your interest in eating. Due to your
chemo, drugs, etc.
That said, Sunday, I would get into the pool with a noodle and float. The house you bought for
me to get me out of Forever House so I would not have such horrible time leaving us, was the
most exquisite home I could ever imagine. Yet the most miserable. The pool was clear blue
covered by the oak trees. A dream come true, the instagram fantasy, yet it was the most fucked
up time of our lives. How could this come to it. We used to run 10 miles, go out for brunch and
drinks and make love. Now I am alone, in a pool that feels so supported but without you. My
love.
I trained in voice for twelve years from 6 years old. Much to my parents chagrin, I did not go into classical vocals, I sang in a folk grunge band for for a few years in the 1990s. I used to smoke cigarettes until I got pulmonary thrombosis (blood clot in my lung) at 24, and had to be in the hospital for 10 days. It was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I have run 53 Half Marathons, 2 Marathons including Boston (through the Liver Foundation). I stopped running at 49 because my relationship was over with running and I started an affair with cycling. I love, no, I am obsessed with my furbaby, Ziggy Stardust. The greatest love of my life is my daughter. I am a Dave Matthews devotee and try to catch as many gigs around the states as possible. And finally…I love the Broulet Brothers, Trixie and Katya, and all things Tim Burton.
