whack ways of dealing

so when the going gets rough, the tough go shopping, or so they say.

i was out with my girl who always encourages my splurging on myself, which today consisted of a gorgeous turqouise suede leather jacket that fits my body like a glove. with a slightly scalloped edge and snap front closure. did i need it? no.

but i didn't need that ticket either.

got that shit all squared away. i'm trying to salvage what is left of my day, i just sat down at the library after a long talk with 85 years young helen whom i haven't seen in about a year since i quit choich.

i miss you.

she said.

and we caught up on who has died (yes, someone i knew died last week. sigh.)

and she had to euthanize her beloved cat of sixteen years, this came late in the conversation and her eyes welled with tears.

it's still a delicate subject,

she said.

yes.

somehow we began to talk about poetry and i told her i now have a book. she requested a copy, which i will gladly give her (she falls into the i trust category), and she asked if she could leave it to her sister in her will.

sigh.

she said,

i know you don't want everyone reading it, but i want to share something with her that means something to me. and you mean something to me.

and i just about died.

i may never get my name in POETRY, or read on the mainstage of dodge poetry festival, but i've got enough humble success to do my heart good.

we promised to talk again and meet so i could give her the book.

but one thing we also talked about is how lost i am with the whole church/god thing. i told her,

i tried. i can't do that anymore. at least not now.

she said,

i know. i don't know why i go. am i halfway up the stairs or down.

which i thought a profoundly honest question. that one can and does still struggle at 85 is a comfort to me. that she can be honest and look me in the eyes and say,

i'm in the same place,

no judgment, no shame, was the kind of soul resuscitation i needed.

so my day is a strange celebration of sorts. still the hard grim truths, but they are housed in compassion. and i felt the time she and i shared was real. i am grateful i got to see her again.

i'll get my book to her as soon as i can, and hope my grief assuages hers just a bit.

i lost my thread, i had just sat down at the library, when my girl appeared and we left. now home, finally. i'm going to try again to finish up some of my work due monday. early day tomorrow. stables first thing, then work. eight hours. damn.

peace.