Grape #44: I'm Not Okay

November 6, 2024

I should clarify. I’m okay, but I’m not okay today. I’m in shock, and I’m really, really sad and depressed, and confused, and not sure how to fully acknowledge and accept this fact before I move forward.

I will move forward. I will. But in this moment right here, I need to—I don’t know. I guess I just need to be in this moment right here before all else. I need to sit with my feelings and digest them. Wait for the hard pill, which has been forced down my throat, to kick in.

I’m not okay. There are people in my life who have put aside all sense of moral decency to elect someone they hope will keep their neighborhoods whiter and their eggs cheaper. These are in many cases people I have always hoped had more goodness in them than racism, sexism, xenophobia, transphobia, and greed. I’m angry at them, but sadness and disappointment continue to supersede all other emotions.

We talk about the need to heal our country, to bring everyone together, but when more than half the country mocks us, or uses the laughter emoji when we say things like this online, how can we hope to get anywhere? How can we hope to find healing when most people are enamored with the person they are?

I’m not okay with that. I’m not okay with the status quo. This is why I have spoken out and why I will continue to speak out. Only…I need to shift my approach. I need to focus on my core beliefs and the core of goodness I know glows within all of us. Instead of reacting or judging, I need to just live in the light as much as I can.

Anne Lamott wrote, “Lighthouses don’t go running all over an island looking for boats to save; they just stand there shining.”

Is that enough? Is being a light, and not a reactionary light, enough? I certainly admire those people who react without being reactive, who teach without judgment, who lead without commanding. Jesus was such a person. In the New Testament, he continually keeps his shit together, even when people say and do awful things to him or to others in his presence. All manner of dumbfuckery and violence are coming at him, and yet he just stands there shining.

I’m no Jesus. I don’t make any claim or suggestion I’m anywhere close. But he is a hero of mine, and an inspiration in all I do. I sometimes come close to his approach, and even occasionally manage to be Christlike, but man did he hold back, and that level of restraint really did work for him. I mean, yeah, he got crucified in the end, at only 33, but his legacy lives on, for Christians and non-Christians alike.

So yeah. I’m not okay. I’m sad. I’m really, really, really sad, actually. But I know I need to move past this, not just in acceptance, but with determination for the road ahead.

November 18, 2024

I’m still not okay. I’m better, but I’m just… I’m still confused as to how to proceed. I suddenly realized there were far more people all around me who were okay with the most terrible kinds of hate, and this awful fact absolutely froze me in my tracks. It was as if I always knew I had a little cancer around me, but on election night, my doctor informed me that I was actually surrounded by Stage 4 terminal hatred.

Most of the political pundits and anchors on the news have focused these past two weeks on the blame game as they think out tactics for better results going forward. One takeaway that has continually jumped out for me is this trope that people don’t like to be referred to as bad/trash/deplorable, and so on.

The unspiritual part of me reacts viscerally to this. I don’t like that I can’t call a rotting piece of fruit rotting. I reject the idea that I should pretend like it’s a perfectly good piece of healthy fruit. The spiritual part of me is more loving, kinder, and forgiving, but no less confident that racism, xenophobia, transphobia, and the like are profoundly unhealthy characteristics for any soul to gravitate toward.

And herein lies my greatest struggle these days: it’s not easy bringing light to a very dark room that seems to remain very dark no matter how bright your light shines. Surely this has been said far more eloquently by philosophers and poets throughout history, but all I can manage is this: my flashlight is working, but the room is still dark.

“But who are you?” those comfortably living in the darkness will chide. “How dare you judge us! What kind of a perfect person do you imagine yourself to be telling us what is dark and what is light?” I understand this visceral, defensive reaction, but only because I am all too aware of my own darkness. I could list off a hundred things about my personality, my addictions, and my life choices that are far from the light I so espouse to bring to the world. The difference between me and them, however, is that I would not hold up my many faults as healthy fruit worthy of a place at the table. I would not vote for a piece of rotting fruit and proclaim it to be fresh and wholesome. I would not feed myself with a festering, wormy piece of fruit and pretend as if it was healthy and beautiful.

Darkness is darkness, sins are sins, and hatred is hatred, whether or not anyone likes it. It’s a sick kind of gaslighting for so many to react so loudly and angrily to an accusation that is 100% true. But to be honest with you, it works. We all lay off a little more when hateful people refute our claims that they are hateful. “Oh, I’m sorry,” we seem to say. “You’re right. I should be nicer to you.” As if our being kind to them is far more important than their call to be kind to others.

It’s discouraging and dispiriting to say the least.

But…a fact is a fact. If challenging their hatred, sexism, transphobia, Islamophobia, antisemitism, homophobia, racism—or any other phobia or ism you can think of—isn’t working, then there’s no point keeping that as our focus. We need to (I need to) instead channel all that discouragement into fresh new methods that will work.

For starters, and it’s only a start, because that’s all I can manage so far, I’m going to personally switch from a defensive approach to a focused redirection of the conversation at hand, whatever it is that day. If someone says 4 + 4 = 5, instead of refuting their claim emotionally, I will present a calm, thoughtful, loving, sometimes funny retort that doesn’t even feel like a retort. I don’t play any instruments very well, but when an argument breaks out, I’ll play a flute solo with my words, responding by not responding directly, by reframing and presenting a better choice, a happier choice, nearby. When another venomous quote comes out from a loud, brash politician, I’ll post about loving my neighbor, about beautiful ways to look at the same situation without directly responding to the situation.

When a dark room will have nothing of my light, I will shine it all the more brightly in the next room over. I will focus on making whatever room I am welcomed into bright with light and love. I will not force my light on their dark room, but instead live with the hope that those in the next room will see how much nicer things look where I stand. If we each make our brighter room an entire lighthouse of love, we will lead more people safely away from the danger of darkness.

I still won’t feel okay about the darkness of the room beside me, the dark words and actions of the people beside me, but if I stay focused in the light, I’ll be much better off than if I keep walking into that dark room next door and getting nowhere with my flashlight.

Grape #43: The Colonoscopy

 

Alright. Here we go.

I turned 48 two weeks ago, and though recommendations for a colonoscopy used to start at 50, doctors recently began recommending them to patients as young as 45. I basically cut the difference in half, deciding to have one at 46, waiting till 47 to schedule it, and turning 48 before I actually had one.

Today is Sunday, and my colonoscopy is Monday morning at 8 AM, which means today is the day it all goes down. Literally.

Does my stomach know what's about to happen? Do my intestines? Does my colon? I suspect not. Right now, they're feeling fine and ready for another amazing day of solid food, completely unaware that late last night, they got the last solid food they'll see until mid-late Monday morning.

It's 11:16 AM, and I've gotta say, so far so good. If I'm starting the dreaded chemical drink at 5 PM, that means I only have a little over five and a half hours left of not being able to eat solid food.

Obviously, as a man of some substance, I'm expecting the real hunger to begin in the next hour or so. That's when it would start if I didn't have breakfast before noon anyway. Stay tuned.

###

Looked at the clock, thinking, "It's gotta be like 1:30 PM by now."

It was 11:42 AM.

###

1:38 PM. Hunger has leveled out, not increased. I'm hungry, but not starving. Guessing my stomach thinks I'm just delaying his first meal slightly. I expect a revolt sooner or later, once he and his intestinal friends realize I'm starving them. For now, their silence pleases me.

###

3:05 PM. Miraculously, I'm not starving. The clear-liquid-only diet is enough.

###

4:09 PM. The purge will begin at 5 PM. I'm grateful to have gotten through this day of no food with absolutely no misery. I really thought it would be awful, but it hasn't been, at least yet. I had one cup of black coffee, one 32-oz. container of clear vegetable broth, and a few bottles of water.

At 5 PM, I'll have the first of my two bottles of Clenpiq, along with three bottles of water. At 8 PM, the second bottle of Clenpiq, that time with two bottles of water. I have multiple bottles of Gatorade ready to drink later on too if needed.

This will be my first ever colonoscopy, but more than that, it will be my first time ever going under anesthesia. I'm not really concerned, but I suppose some tiny part of me does remain open to any possibility. Several people have told me that waking up from anesthesia is an unmatched euphoric experience I will absolutely love. Sounds good to me!

But first, I have some time in the bathroom ahead of me. Here goes something.

###

5:21 PM. Done with the first bottle and two 8-ounce waters. Starting to feel...different...like it's going to start...working.

###

5:51 PM. It started doing its thing.

###

7:31 PM. That went so much better than I ever would have guessed. All as expected, but the Clenpiq didn't taste bad at all, and the sitting down so long on the hard seat was the most difficult part. At 7:45 PM, I'll have a bit of a lemon lozenge, which I did earlier too. It seemed to help coat my throat ahead of the first bottle. Should be done by 10:30 PM, and will then go to sleep, as I have to be up at 6:15 AM or so. Let's do this.

###

10:03 PM. Less fun than the first time. Not that the first time was fun, just easier. Even so, it was easy. The hardest part again, pun intended, was the toilet seat against my thighs. Gastroenterologists should sell cushioned toilet seats as a side hustle. I may need the toilet one more time, but I was able to close up shop in the bathroom around 9:50 PM.

My plan now is to shower quick tonight with plans to shower again in the morning before we leave. Waking up at 6 AM, and leaving the house around 6:45. Have to be there by 7:30 for an 8 AM appointment. Happy this evening's festivities have concluded. Good night.

###

Monday, 10:41 AM. Home from the colonoscopy. Everything went very well. I got there early, got in a little early, maybe 7:50 or so, and was going under around 8 AM. Andy got the phone call that I was in recovery at 8:15 AM. The whole process was very simple and friendly, made that much easier by the friendliness of the staff. Thank God for caring physicians, nurses, and anesthesiologists! I told the anesthesiologist that redheads might require a little more anesthesia, and he acknowledged it right away as something he'd heard, but assured me he would monitor me carefully and take good care of me.

So that's that. First time ever going under, first time being wheeled on a gurney, first time ever getting a procedure of any kind, aside from getting fitted for casts when I broke bones, and, you know, being born, but I don't remember that.

The whole thing, from my 24-hour liquids-only diet to the prep and bathroom time to the procedure itself was honestly way easier than I ever would have guessed. I did stay calm about it all, and didn't stress the no food thing. I had planned to rely on my spiritual training, and that ended up being my focus from start to finish, from Sunday morning until today.

I think from the moment the IV went in for my anesthesia, I was knocked out almost instantly, easily less than 10 seconds. I don't remember being woken up so much as welcomed awake, if that makes any sense. I guess once they remove the anesthesia, a patient just comes to again? I dunno. I just know it was all so quick and easy. Slight euphoria, but mostly just full relaxation.

Everyone should get this done. They didn't find anything worth cutting out and sending for biopsy, and I'm done now for 10 years. Easy peasy. So get screened. 45 is the new 50. Don't wait too long, please. You'll be glad to have gotten it done early!

Grape #42: Lynette's Last Weeks

My partner Andy's mother passed away six months ago today. What follows is a collection of diary entries I wrote before and after her death, a recounting of her final weeks. You'll see I wrote more about her final morning in the days after her death. I pray this information helps you in some way.

###

I need to document what I’m seeing, hearing, and experiencing these past few days in North Carolina, because I know I’ll be thinking back to this time for the rest of my life.



Today is Monday, January 17, 2022, and it’s 10:16 AM right now. I was just here in North Carolina from December 17th through January 1st, but on Sunday, January 9th, only a week after I got home, Andy told me his mom was starting to go downhill—labored breathing, barely eating, sleeping more. “Okay,” I wrote him on our text. “Keep me posted. I can drive back down this week or next if needed.”



An hour or so later, Andy wrote me again to say the nurse had come by to take Lynette’s vitals and see how she was doing. Though the numbers were good, the nurse heard congestion in Lynette’s lungs, and told Andy and his dad that they should tell Andy’s brother Chris he should think about coming down (“and I guess you as well”, Andy told me). I began to mentally prepare myself for another 11-hour drive and set about preparing our house as well. I cleaned up, put Christmas decorations away, and slowly began preparing my things and myself for the imminent trip once Andy gave me the go-ahead.



Later that night, Andy told me the nurse had silently pointed to a certain section in the hospice book that detailed when death was near. “She thinks it’s one to two weeks or days away,” Andy told me. [The nurse was right. It was two weeks and less than one day later that she died.]



“I feel so oddly in between worlds right now,” I wrote to Andy on Monday the 10th, “because I was just with you, now home, soon going back.”



“It is strange,” Andy replied. “It feels like you were here a month ago, but it’s only been nine days.”



On Tuesday, January 11th, a priest came to administer Anointing of the Sick, formerly called Last Rites. Andy’s Aunt Lydia and her sister Zeny suggested we do this, and while neither Andy nor his parents are religious, Andy and his dad wanted to do what they felt was right, so they made the appointment for the priest to come. That night, Andy texted me, “I’m thinking you should come. I was scared to death about 10 minutes ago. Her breathing got very slow. Still breathing slow, so still a little scared.” I told him I could drive down in the morning (Wednesday) if necessary, but needed to get some sleep either way, as it was already close to midnight. We ultimately decided that Thursday would be fine, so that’s what I did. I got here to his parents’ house around 4:45 PM on Thursday, January 13th.

Since I’ve been here, I’ve witnessed firsthand how concerned Andy and his dad are for Lynette’s health. Though I don’t believe either one of them are in denial about her imminent fate, they also don’t want to lose her to a choking incident, nor lose her even one minute sooner than they must. They are taking very, very good care of her, and Andy has now taken to sleeping in their bedroom too, so he can wake up and help her in the middle of the night if she has a coughing incident. There’s a kind of vigil we are all keeping with her as she goes through this final stage of her disease. We talk to her, we rub her arm or shoulder very gently, we kiss her, we hold her hand.



In a previous conversation with Lynette when she was more alert (though she can still hear us well even when her eyes aren’t opened or focused), I told her that no one knew exactly what her timing was, that they weren’t keeping information from her. I wanted to make sure she knew this, because in the past, early in her illness, long before she got so sick, she seemed suspicious at times. I also told her that there would be no good time for her to pass, that it was simply going to happen when it did, and she shouldn’t hold on longer just to satisfy someone else. Even writing this and even as I said it to her though, I knew she would remain in control of this situation as much as possible. I also made sure she knew that we wanted her to be with us as long as she could.



10 Days Before…

On Friday, January 14th, the day after I arrived here, I had the talk with her I knew I must have, the one I planned to have with her for quite a while. I told her she had a very near future ahead of her filled with walking, and running, and talking, and joyful reunions with loved ones who have gone before her. I told her that all my family and all our friends are praying for her, and that our prayer is that she have a peaceful transition when the time comes, which, I added, I believed she would. I told her how I reached out in prayer to my deceased family members as well, and asked them to bless her with an easy journey. She smiled as I told her these things, even though smiles are hard to get from her anymore.


9 Days Before…

On Saturday the 15th, she stayed in bed all day. That night, when we had another moment alone, I told her how grateful I was to her for the gift of Andy, and said he’s made me so happy. I told her we just celebrated our 20th anniversary on December 1st. “He came to my door that day 20 years ago with a bouquet of roses, and he had a heart-shaped box of chocolate for me as well in the car. I just knew right from the start that I loved him, and I have you to thank for bringing him into the world.”



We thought she might die that night, such was her silence and slow breathing, and yet she continued to take small spoonfuls of food (a blended mix of Ensure and/or food at the right consistency to swallow as easily as possible through her constricted throat). Molly and Buck got back from their trip to Jamaica that night, and they stopped by the house to see her on their way home. We had told them time might be running out, and since a winter storm of ice and snow was due to hit on Sunday, we felt they should stop by just in case. By some time after midnight, I went to bed, and as has become my custom, I reminded Andy to wake me up anytime, even if he just wanted to talk.



8 Days Before…

Yesterday, on Sunday, she stayed in bed again all day as the uncertain vigil continued. We don’t know if her energy will come back enough now or if this is it, but the nurse is due to come again on Tuesday, as well as an aid, I believe, to give her a bed bath.



That night, when Andy’s brother Chris called, and Lorelei came on the video call too, Lynette’s attention was rapt. Though her eyes were closed much more often this weekend, she was as alert as can be when Chris and Lorelei were on the screen. It was honestly beautiful to witness her ability to snap herself out of the haze long enough to appreciate their faces and voices on the screen.



7 Days Before…

At breakfast earlier, just after I wrote the previous paragraph, Andy called his dad in to come to the bedroom. Everard put down his tea and ran back there. As I didn’t hear any coughing, I knew there wasn’t an incident in progress, but I followed inside as well, just in case, a moment later. There I saw Andy and his dad leaning in close, where even from the bedroom door in the hallway, I could hear what they heard: the rattle. We’ve heard it before, signs of pneumonia or congestion or imminent death or all of these, but not since Friday or Saturday. She was alert though, so we just waited, and gave her food when she could have some, and medicine—morphine as prescribed when she seems to need it.



Before he left the table, Everard and I were discussing the funeral plans. He visited the funeral home the other day to start reviewing options and to set a plan in place. Over 50 years together as a couple, months shy of 50 years married, Everard remarked he still couldn’t believe he had to do this. Lynette has been ill with this progressive disease for 8-10 years now, but no matter how near we see the end approaching, it’s still surreal to witness as it all plays out. She didn’t smoke or drink or do drugs. Neither did she do something dangerous or immoral or foolish to make this happen. She did not deserve this. It just happened. Life just happens, and disease, and heartache, and death.


On Monday night, just as I thought we’d be having dinner, Andy’s dad came into his bedroom where Andy and I were sitting next to Lynette, and he said, “Let’s get her up into the chair.” We were both surprised, as she hadn’t been in the wheelchair since Friday. I wonder if Lynette was surprised too. They got her into the chair and she was alert and okay, which made me happy to see. Lynette was alert and even smiling a little at the funny animal videos we watched together on YouTube as we ate our dinner.


In other news, Everard spoke to Andy’s Aunt Molly on the phone yesterday and asked her what she wanted for her sister’s funeral. She deferred to him, Andy, and Chris, and said they should do whatever they want. It seems as if he’s opting for a one-day wake and a service the next day here in North Carolina. Since she’s being cremated anyway, he’ll use a basic cardboard-style box of some sort, which I’m guessing is the standard for this kind of thing when a fancier coffin is not necessary. Andy and I think she should just be cremated, but he seems to want to do this, so that’s where it stands. He says it’ll be about $10,000 in all, which sounds about right, and he seems to be okay with that. Of course he’ll have to pay for internment in New York eventually too, which I believe will be in the same cemetery as Lynette’s brother Afai.



Before I fell asleep on the Wednesday before my drive down here, Andy gave me a last-minute request for a pair of dress pants, a dress shirt, socks, belt, and shoes. “I hate to think like this,” he said, “but I should probably have it ready.” I was literally in bed under the covers already when he told me this, so I had to scramble to collect it all and make sure it was ready for me to put into the car in the morning. Unfortunately, I did not think it all out because of the timing. If I was thinking clearly, I would have collected dress clothes for myself as well. I have a pair of khakis and a dark blue sweater, but I’m going to be looking far more casual than I’d prefer. I told Andy this last night, and he said not to worry. I think I may take a drive today though to buy a black dress shirt and tie at least. I’ll have to see what department stores are nearby, but I don’t think it will be hard to do.



5 Days Before…

Today is Wednesday, January 19th, and I want to share three quick sights-and-sounds stories with you to further document my time here. 


1) Chris called last night, as he does each day now, and I was once again amazed and delighted to see Lynette’s eyes open more than usual as she absorbed every word from her son (and briefly her daughter-in-law and granddaughter) on the screen. I just knew she was looking at them with the eyes and attention of someone who knows this could be her last time seeing them, and it inspired me to do my best to treasure each moment with others as well. We know not the day nor the hour.



2) A little while later, she had one of her coughing incidents, where she has trouble swallowing the food they’ve spooned into her mouth. They have this loud machine, a mouth vacuum, that they stick into her mouth to suck up as much food and moisture as they can right away whenever this happens. It’s a terribly loud device that’s jarring to hear, and yet it’s very effective each time too. You just feel as if without it, she would have died each time from choking.

3) I woke up early this morning and looked at my phone. 4:09 AM. As I lay in bed, I became aware of a high-pitched noise unlike anything I’ve heard before, at least in recent years. It wasn’t in my ears the way some high-pitched noises are. It was outside of me somewhere, but neither, I sensed, was it from the physical realm. I felt as if it was a tone I was allowed to hear that told me angels were visiting Lynette, and I wondered if this was her time. I got up to use the bathroom, and still heard the noise when I got back into bed, only it soon turned to a visual—again not through my eyes, but more of a vision. It looked like the Aurora Borealis, only there was no color, as if showing me a cloud of visitors surrounding the house. I don’t think I’ll mention this to anyone, but I wanted to document it here. I feel as if they told Lynette her time is growing near, and I am hopeful it will be fast and peaceful for her.

Though I don’t know if the above I wrote is true, that angels did indeed visit or if it was only my imagination, when I went in to wish her a good morning soon after writing the above, she was smiling more than I’ve seen her smile recently before, so I decided to tell her some version of what I experienced. “I had a kind of vision of angels watching over you, Lynette, and I have a feeling that they’re blessing you and assuring you of peace to come soon,” I said to her, or something to that effect. I once again didn’t mention death. As I said this however, she smiled even more, so I do pray that whether or not she experienced a similar vision last night, that she believes me and my words, and finds some hope and peace in my sharing those words with her this morning.



Everard has to go to the funeral parlor again today to finalize plans for Lynette. This morning at breakfast, he told me how they had plans for travel to different places right after they retired, but then this happened to Lynette. He said it reminds him of the song he heard as a boy, “Enjoy Yourself”, which includes the lyrics, “Enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think”. I later found the song as performed by Doris Day, and will play it for him when it’s appropriate/not near Lynette, in case the lyrics would make her sad.



When Chris called, once again with Meredith and Lorelei, Lynette’s attention was fixed, but began to wane near the end. Before I went to sleep, Andy texted me (our way of communicating privately around others), “I’m worried about her again.” I replied, “She’s getting close”. He came into my guest room to say good night a little while later, and said he’d be sleeping in his parents’ bedroom again. I told him to wake me up anytime in the middle of the night.



4 Days Before…

It’s Thursday morning, January 20th as I begin writing this. When I wake up each morning, I listen for Lynette’s oxygen machine. It gives off a low hum I can hear through the walls, since it’s inside their private bathroom which borders my guest room across the hall. Hearing it when I wake up around 7:30 means she didn’t die in her sleep. While Everard might not wake me, I have a feeling I’d hear him and Andy up anyway, and do want Andy to wake me should they realize she has passed, since they check on her throughout the night.



I had another moment alone with Lynette today, and I told her that there was pure joy on the other side of all this. When I saw my dad appear to me on the train, I reminded her, he was smiling and happy. Everything’s going to be okay.



At breakfast with Everard, I told him that though it may not be within his comfort zone, there are so many widows groups out there he could join. “I know it might not be your thing,” I said, “but I’m sure it helps to be in a room filled with other people who know exactly what you’re going through.”

1 Day Before…

On Sunday afternoon, January 23rd, I drove to Kohl’s and bought a dress shirt for the wake and funeral.



1 Day After…

There are other details to fill in, moments to recall, and conversations worth documenting between Friday and Monday, but for now, for just this moment, I have to share one ultimate fact. Andy’s mother, Lynette Charles, died yesterday, on Monday, January 24, 2022, a minute or two after 9 AM.



The obituary I wrote on Tuesday the 25th:

Lynette Chong Charles, 77, of Kernersville passed away peacefully at home surrounded by family on January 24th after a decade-long struggle with Progressive Supranuclear Palsy. She leaves behind her husband of almost 50 years, Everard Charles, her two sons, Christopher (Meredith) Charles and Andy (Sean) Charles, her granddaughter Lorelei Charles, her sister Molly Chong (Buck) Eng, sisters-in-law Lydia Chong, Brenda Santiago, and Heather Fitzpatrick, and so many other loving family members and friends in China, Trinidad, England, Canada, New York, North Carolina, and elsewhere around the world.

Born in the city of Zhongshan in 1944, Lynette fled Communist China with her grandmother in 1956 to resettle in Trinidad and Tobago with her immediate family. She married Everard in 1972 and later gave birth to Christopher and Andy. The family then immigrated to the United States in 1984. She is predeceased by her parents and her older brother Afai Chong.

Lynette was an amazing wife, mother, grandmother, sister, cousin, and friend to so many who now mourn her passing. Though her condition debilitated her in recent years, the family remembers happier times filled with joy, hard work, dedication to her family, and unflinching generosity for others. Even in illness, however, she faced the storms of PSP with incredible courage, tremendous strength, and inspiring grace.



The greatest achievement of her lifetime, her sons and granddaughter, are a living tribute to the magnificent woman she was and always will be.


2 Days After…
Wednesday, January 26th. There are many emotions floating around the household here this week. Sadness, of course, but also misplaced anger, real anger, numbness, denial, fear, shock, relief, and guilt. Because Andy and his dad were doing so much work for so long to care for Lynette, there is a valley filled with free time all of a sudden that the two of them don’t yet feel comfortable inhabiting. This is, every bit of it, 100% normal, and I share none of these words with judgment of any kind. When others ask me how they’re doing, I say some version of the phrase, “relatively good under the circumstances”.



4 Days After…
Today is Friday the 28th, the day of the funeral. I want to just document what happened the morning Lynette passed away.



Though I usually get up early enough to log into work at 8:38, on this particular Monday morning, I was really feeling the cumulative stress of the situation, and decided to just head down for work after 8:45. When I left my bedroom, however, I immediately saw two things: Everard was on the phone with hospice in the hallway, and Andy was holding Lynette’s hand and kneeling by her bedside. I approached Lynette and Andy, and saw what Andy and his father had already seen: her breathing was very, very shallow.



Apparently, it was another rough night for all of them, as she had exhibited breathing issues that made them nervous, but it wasn’t until morning came that her breathing changed enough to really concern them. To my eyes, I knew right away that this was it. The nurse on the phone told Andy’s dad he could give her valium and morphine together, but Andy and I felt she was already at a point that this kind of medicine might stop her heart. In retrospect, it seems, that’s exactly what the nurse was encouraging him to do, simply because if she was barely taking in air, she was already on the way out. I don’t know this for sure, I must be clear, but I suspect the hospice team, well trained in these things, knew exactly what was going on.



At any rate, medicine or not, I was certain Lynette was in her final minutes, so after Everard was off the phone with hospice and Lynette’s sister Molly, I told him he should come back in right away. He knelt down on the floor next to Andy, on his own mattress, which he had placed right up against her hospital bed, and together, the three of us spoke to Lynette and said our tearful goodbyes. Andy asked me what time it was, and I looked and saw it was 9 AM on the dot.



We assured Lynette we were there with her, we kissed her softly and told her not to be afraid, and we told her how much we loved her. For a brief moment at the end as she was breathing very, very slowly, a sad silence grew in the room, so I reminded Andy and Everard that she could still hear them, which helped them give her their words of comfort a little more. And then, very naturally and peacefully, her little breaths turned to no breaths, and we knew her spirit had left her body. It couldn’t have been later than 9:02 AM.



As you can imagine, this was when the tears and pain really shook Everard and Andy, and me as well behind them. In my case, the pain was less about our loss of Lynette, who I loved very much but knew was finally free, and more because I was witnessing a profoundly heartbreaking moment for Everard and Andy. I stood behind them and cried to myself as they cried to her and each other. When they were finally up, I hugged Andy and encouraged him to hug his dad.

Once the phone calls started, the next stage of the process began. Hospice was alerted that she passed, that the nurse already called for would be coming into the house not to help Lynette so much as to pronounce and prepare. Everard called Molly then too to let her know, and Christopher as well, whose phone went to voicemail since he was already at school. More phone calls then and video calls to Trinidad (Lynette’s cousin Robert) and England (Everard’s sister Heather). I took this time to pick up Everard’s mattress and lean it against the dresser, then set up chairs, a tissue box, hand sanitizer, and a small garbage can in the room in front of Lynette’s bed, so that people could sit beside her.



The nurse arrived around 10 and took her pulse, then turned around to us and said, “So she has passed,” which we knew already, yet I think it helped just the same. The time on Lynette’s death certificate reflects the official pronouncement, 10:06 AM. The nurse asked us nicely, once a few more minutes had passed, to step outside, and she washed Lynette’s body briefly and tucked in the sheet a bit around her. She also called the funeral home to notify them, but to let them know the family would call them after a while to come for Lynette.



After the nurse left, Sudha, one of Lynette’s aids who helped keep her company, talk to her, and feed her, came by, and she sat with us in the bedroom. Molly and Buck got there around 11. It wasn’t until 2:40 when the funeral home guys finally took Lynette away. Everard kissed her one last time in the driveway and then he and Molly followed along behind the hearse over to the funeral home. On Lynette’s hospital bed back in the bedroom, a lone white rose was left on her pillow, and it’s still there four days later. Everard has slept beside Lynette’s hospital bed each night this week—the hospice team will come to collect the bed, oxygen machine, and more in the next few days—and he has left the bedroom door open each night too.



I took off on Monday because of everything, but worked Tuesday and Wednesday. On Wednesday around 5 PM, Chris arrived by plane and Andy and Everard picked him up at the airport.



On Thursday, we had a 1 PM appointment at the funeral home to view Lynette and set up some pictures. Andy and Chris put a collection of photos on large poster boards, and Andy also had two 8 x 10 photos printed and framed, which we set up on pedestals in the funeral parlor. A very large picture of Lynette, taken of her when she was a little girl in China, which Andy had gifted her for Christmas this year, was also brought over and left on an easel.



After the funeral home, we went over to Buck and Molly’s for dinner. Lydia and Ferdinand drove down from New York on Thursday to join us. They plan to leave on Saturday or Sunday. Chris will fly back on Sunday, and I will leave on Monday morning.

The wake and funeral service for Lynette went relatively fast, but was thankfully—relatively—easy. Andy’s dad sang along with the songs, and with Chris beside him and Andy next to Chris, Everard reached over at one point and Andy held his hand with Chris holding his dad’s arm in between the two of them. The three of them stayed that way for the second half of the service.

There are many more details I’m no doubt omitting here, but I just wanted to document things as best I could. For my part, I am a witness. I consider it a great privilege to have known Lynette, to have been with her for most of her last five weeks, and most of all to have been with her when she passed. I’ve never been in the same building as someone when they passed—not including hospitals, where who knows what transpires elsewhere—nor have I ever been by someone’s side at such a sacred moment. Knowing I was one of only three souls who kissed her, told her not to be afraid, assured her of our love, and watched her as she left for Heaven is a remarkably awful yet truly beautiful honor for me, and something I will cherish always.



5 Days After…
On Saturday, Everard and Chris went to the funeral home and picked up Lynette’s ashes, which now reside in Everard’s bedroom.



6 Days After…
Today is Sunday, January 30th. Lydia and Ferdi began their drive back to NY around 6 this morning. We’ll drive Chris to the airport around 3:30 today. I’ll leave here tomorrow morning for my own drive back home to Malverne.





I’ve spent 32 of the last 45 days here in North Carolina since December the 17th, more than a month of time, and it’s depleted me fully. I will hug my own pillows so much tighter once I’m back home in Malverne. I’m already counting the days until Andy is back with me there too, in just a few more weeks.

###

Lynette Charles was a beautiful woman who gave so much to the world. She took her final breaths surrounded by loved ones, but she was surrounded by love from family and friends throughout her final years. We should all be so lucky to have people who love us so much they spend so many hours, restless nights, and countless moments enduring our health struggles along with us. I once told Lynette I knew she would have done the same for all of us if the situation was reversed, and she vigorously nodded yes and told me "yes". Last year, after she'd lost her ability to speak, and we were either feeding her, wiping her mouth or nose, or some other small act like this, I said it to her again. She couldn't answer with her voice, but she gave me a very firm nod again to agree.

If she could add her own words to this document, they would surely be words of supreme gratefulness to her loved ones who cared for her in small ways and large over the course of her illness. And she'd be sure to remind each and every one of us to appreciate our health while we have it. Life is good. Enjoy every moment of the good while the good is yours to enjoy.

Grape #41: Outlook 2021

 

I update this collection of diary entries all the time, so bookmark the link and keep checking back. If this is your first visit, start at the bottom of Grape #39, and scroll back up in chronological order. Some of these, like text messages, were added after the fact, while other entries appear here for the first time. I'm aware of some proofreading needed, and formatting issues besides.

Sunday, October 3rd

Andy and I have finally crossed another two squares off our Covid-19 Bingo cards: air travel and Covid tests.

On Saturday night, September 18th, we set off from home for our first of three flights during the pandemic: one flight to Las Vegas and two on the way back. We both decided to stay double masked on all our flights, and only took them off in the airport briefly while eating--and always as far from other people as we could. In that situation, you are, we learned, the only people in a very large area who are unmasked, so others are bound to stare at you, even if just in mild curiosity to see the bare faces of their fellow human beings.

Before our flight to Las Vegas, we discussed what we'd need to do if the person sitting next to us--or anyone else nearby--was non-compliant with the mask mandate. "Just stay calm and don't pay them any attention, trust that the flight crew will take care of it," we decided. Andy was in the middle seat and sure enough, much to our chagrin, the man on the aisle had his mask down by his chin for the first 20 minutes or so while people were boarding. He wasn't being a jerk about it, however. He was just being an idiot about it. The flight started, and aside from some other annoyances like spreading his legs out into Andy's area and elbow-controlling Andy's TV screen (the greater fault here is that of the poor designers), he mostly behaved himself in all ways, thankfully.

In Vegas, our worries about the virus only increased, however, once we got to our first hotel, Mandalay Bay. A college football game had just gotten out at nearby Allegiant Stadium, so throngs of people were pouring into the hotel and casino area as we were navigating our way to the Delano reception desk (how we went from a Mandalay Bay reservation to a Delano one and then back to Mandalay Bay is a story in itself). Needless to say, once we were finally in our hotel room with our masks off, somewhere around 11:30 PM Vegas time or 2:30 AM New York time, we were exhausted and unnerved.

I assured Andy as much as myself that a Saturday night in Vegas with a football game next door getting out was going to be the absolute busiest it would be the entire trip, and I was thankfully correct. Yes, there were times where the crowd levels came close, but never to that degree. We stayed masked indoors at all times throughout the trip while in public areas, and while outdoor, stayed masked roughly 85% of the time too. We only de-masked outdoors when we were nowhere near anyone else.

While most patrons obeyed the mask mandate indoors at the casinos, I saw very little policing of the rule, and sad to say, around 10-15% of people seemed to be shirking the rules either partially or completely.

There are a hundred other things worth mentioning about the trip, but I'll just mention one more Covid-related one here. Downtown at the new Circa bar, I approached an indoor bartender to get a drink, and a blond woman in her low 60s asked us snidely why we were wearing masks. She was around four or five feet away from us, and we were following the law, so she was out of line, but we were thankfully able to just shrug her off, get our drinks, and move away from her very quickly. Twenty feet away and no where near anyone, I took off my mask and enjoyed my drink.

Now for the second Covid Bingo card box: Covid tests. After more than a year and a half of living through this global health pandemic, Andy and I finally got tested for Covid on Saturday, October 2nd, 2021. We'd planned to get tested after getting back from "hot spot" Las Vegas anyway, but minor coughs post-trip made us sure it was something we should do just to be safe. There was, I must confess, one scary moment earlier this week. I had taken Nyquil the night before, hoping to just totally obliterate anything annoying my system, and when I woke up the next morning, still under the effects of the medicine, I was momentarily alarmed to realize I had no taste or smell. Yeah, not good. Happy to say this lasted all of an hour to hour and a half at most that morning, and I was immediately fine. Even so, we social distanced right away and washed our hands that much more often.

When we went through the drive-through lane at the CVS to do our testing, the young woman behind the glass said, "You've done this test before, right?" She'd said it like someone would say, "You've been to a McDonald's at least once in your life, right?" which I found amusing, because we probably are among the vast minority at this point who have never had a Covid test. Well, no longer.

Gotta tell ya, I told myself I'd be fine with that nose swab, but holy crap did it suck. Not so much an ouch experience as an ugh-ugh-ugh-ugh-ugh one, and it only lasted 15 seconds per nostril, but it was enough to make me tear up. Even so, super easy to do honestly, and I do hope people will just suck it up and get tested whenever necessary.

We'll get our results back today or tomorrow, probably, so I'll update you here once they come in.

Andy's plan is to return to North Carolina next weekend or the weekend after, and then my plan is to visit him down there for Christmas--assuming his job doesn't force him back into the office before then.


Friday, October 1st

Seventy-sixth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Andy, Rich, Hoff, Heath, and me. Another short Zoom this week, mostly because we are back on a 40-minute limit.


Friday, September 17th

Seventy-fifth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Andy, TM, Heath, and me. Short Zoom this week, and fascinatingly, this was (I think) the first time we had two different participants joining us from their cars. Hands-free, of course!


Friday, September 10th

Seventy-fourth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Andy, Rich, TM, Lloyd, Heath, and me.


Friday, September 3rd

Seventy-third weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Hoff and Rick, hanging out together at Rick's, and for the first time since November 2020, Andy and me together in Malverne!


Thursday, September 2nd

Andy arrived back home safely Saturday night from North Carolina after what turned into a 12-hour drive for him. Yikes. I was able to get my drive time down to between 10.5 and 11 hours, but this was the longest drive Andy's ever had to do by himself, so it took its toll on him. Needless to say, he was relieved to be done with it when he got home, but then he had to return the car at JFK, so we drove over together for that after he emptied the rental car here.

Tommy's cat Ateles was still here, but Tommy was on his own drive in a U-Haul the next two days from Georgia with his girlfriend. They got to their new apartment on Monday evening where some hired movers helped them unpack the truck and bring everything up the stairs, and then Tommy drove the U-Haul out to Long Island to a place very close to me. I picked him up there and drove him back here, where he then packed up the remainder of his belongings as well as his cat into the car and off they went.

Since then, Andy has been slowly getting used to being back home again. He must have said, "this is so weird" at least half a dozen times, especially Sunday and Monday. We're both still working remotely, so as I write this we're sitting across from each other at the dining room table, each on our own work computers.

Though pandemic-era normalcy is nice, and I'm happy Andy is back, he's planning to leave again in early October, so everything's still up in the air. I also opted to miss out on my usual 10-day trip to Ludlow, Vermont this year because there was no way I was leaving Andy after he was finally back home again. I'm incredibly sad about that, but trying not to think about it too much. When possible, probably in October, I'll take a few days off of work and drive up to Vermont by myself.

Right now, Andy are busy planning our Vegas trip. It'll be weird flying with masks on and needing to wear them indoors so much, but we're still excited for the break from work and the dedicated time away with one another.


Saturday, August 28th

This has happened to me so many times in my life: terrible grief and immense joy are hitting me all at once. Today I learned of the sad passing of one of the original Broadway cast members of Billy Elliot The Musical. Matthew Mindler, Small Boy, was only 19 years old. He'd disappeared from his college on Tuesday night, was reported missing late Wednesday/early Thursday, and was finally found deceased earlier today. I can't even begin to imagine how sad his family must be, and I am sending them all my love.

The bad news aside, today is still a day of great celebration because after 9 and a half months away in North Carolina, Andy is finally on his way home right now. He left his parents' house at 8:42 this morning and will be home sometime between 7 and 7:30 this evening, I think. He and I have been speaking throughout his journey whenever he stops, so I know where he is now and how much further he has to go.

Though I've been doing a good job taking care of the house and getting various projects done since he left, I'm spending most of the day today with finishing touches, dusting, vacuuming, and other welcome home preparation.

Andy's mom is still on the very long plateau of her illness, but between our vacation next month and a bunch of things Andy has to get done in New York, he couldn't stay any longer. I do hope he can get back down again ASAP though, hopefully in October, but it's dependent on whether his job begins forcing people back into the office. Time will tell.

Okay, back to my cleanup and clock/phone watching!


Friday, August 27th

As the pandemic's stranglehold weakens over time, despite the new data suggesting the Delta variant's almost certain effect on the unvaccinated population, I have purposely begun to end this particular blog journey. I do enjoy keeping track of the Zoom hangouts for my friends though, so what follows here is a quick summary of recent weeks, which I'll keep adding to for now as a single collection of entries.

Zoom 7/2 (64th): Rich, Andy (from NC), Hoff, Lloyd, and me.

Zoom 7/9 (65th): Hoff, Andy (from NC), Heath, me, and in another first, Tall Michael joined us live from the continent of Africa!!! He'd completed his Camino walk in Spain and was with us from his hotel room in Morocco starting at 11 PM local time. He told us he had a camel ride planned for the next day in what was forecast to be 117 degrees Fahrenheit!

Zoom 7/16 (66th): TM, Andy (from NC), Lloyd, Heath, Hoff, and me. Tall Michael told us he had difficulty finding a Covid text in the last 24 hours or so before his flight back to the U.S., but finally got one at a place off airport property. Amazingly, he only got his results at 11 AM and his flight was around 12:30!

Zoom 7/23 (67th): Rich, TM, Andy (from NC), Hoff, and me.

Zoom 7/30 (68th): Andy (from NC), Hoff, and me, plus special guest Tommy who popped on briefly at the start to say hi to Andy.

Zoom 8/6 (69th): Andy (from NC), TM, Heath (from his car, safely), and me.

Zoom 8/13 (70th): Andy (from NC), Hoff, Heath, Tommy briefly, and me.

Zoom 8/20 (71st): Andy (from NC), TM, Rich, Lloyd, Heath, and me.

Zoom 8/27 (72nd): Andy (from NC), Heath, and me.


Thursday, July 29th

My friend Tommy arrived. Staying with me until his birthday on the 23rd of August, so it'll be great to have some company here after so many months of living alone!


Friday, June 25th

Sixty-third weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Andy (from North Carolina), Hoff, who surprised us a half hour in, and me. Small group.


Sunday, June 20th

Yesterday I attended what I would call my very first real party since before the pandemic, a college graduation party for my nephew Luke. The baby shower I went to on the 6th for my niece Katie actually ended up being what I would call a perfect transition party. I had called that one "so weird but so wonderful". This one though? I'm happy to say it was only so wonderful! No fear about germs or illness, and no concerns about proximity or need for face coverings either. It was just, quite simply and quite beautifully, normal.

The thought then arrived our of nowhere today: when should this pandemic blog officially close? While I could easily keep talking about residual pandemic-related issues, conversations, and Zoom details, I sense for the first time that we are very close now to closing this chapter of our lives for good. Since Andy is still away in North Carolina, scheduled to return home in late August, I do think his return will be as good a place as any for me to call this journey over, with an epilogue to follow sometime after that.


Friday, June 18th

Sixty-second weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Andy (from North Carolina), special surprise guest Brenna (from Pennsylvania), Tall Michael, Hoff, Heath, Luxor, and me.


Tuesday, June 15th

New York State has lifted all Covid-related restrictions, according to ABC 7 New York, which applies to social gathering limits, capacity restrictions, social distancing, and more.


Monday, June 14th

So apart from Zoom updates, I haven't added much here in terms of how I'm doing and what's been going on. As I referenced on June 3rd, I created an Excel chart to track my exercise, food intake, and steps tracked by my Fitbit. I'm happy to say that I'm off to a great start. Though in some ways I have a two-steps forward, one step back routine going at times, I've certainly stoppled the bleeding, as it were, and I'm seeing good results. Just as importantly, seeing my weaknesses displayed on the computer screen really does help me too. It forces me to acknowledge and reckon with several days of great work followed by "bad days" when my step count was very low.

This can be difficult to digest, especially when the information I'm digesting is about poor food choices I literally digested, but I accept that I cannot change without first admitting I have a problem. Thankfully, the treats I've surrounded myself with are zero cholesterol, at least, but portion control continues to be a challenge at times. What I hope the chart will also teach me, however, is when exactly I tend to have my low-activity days. This will help me identify the need to shake up my routine and do indoor exercise on rainy days or on days when my evenings will be interrupted by freelance work or other plans.

With more and more friends and family members getting vaccinated and the restrictions easing more and more, I suspect this blog will be coming to a close, or at least the updates here growing less and less frequent. That's a good thing, to be sure, and I celebrate it fully. I also celebrate my social calendar beginning to fill again!

On Sunday, June 6th, a pandemic first! My family gathered together for an unmasked outdoor celebration for my niece Katie and her husband Rob's upcoming baby arrival. It was so weird but so wonderful chatting with everyone in person again.

This past Saturday, June 12th, I saw a few friends for a fun game night, and one of the friends I hadn't seen in person since very early in the pandemic, and even then it was outside and from 10 feet away.

This coming Saturday, June 19th, I'll be going to my brother Rob's house for a big party celebrating my nephew Luke's college graduation. That one will be the real deal, as far as I'm concerned, sure to be the largest gathering of unmasked people I'll have attended since March 1st of 2020, although this one will be mostly outdoors, I believe.

And then on Sunday, June 27th, I have yet another family party to attend, that one a celebration of my great nephew Timothy's first birthday, and once again mostly outdoors.

All this by way of saying, the new normal is very quickly returning to the old normal again. Masks are still worn by many people inside stores, either by the store's requirement or the individual customer's preference, and masks are still required on all forms of transportation as well. Either way, what will be a months-long transition to normalcy as Covid rates continue to drop has officially begun, and that alone is cause for great, if still cautious, celebration.


Friday, June 11th

Sixty-first weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Andy (from North Carolina), Tall Michael, Hoff, Heath, and me. Tall Michael talked of his excitement about the end of the school year and his upcoming trip to Spain and Morocco, something he's planned for most of the past year. We also talked about TV shows, walks we liked to take, how our friends not on the call are doing, and how we're all so happy the pandemic seems to finally be going away.


Friday, June 4th

Sixtieth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Andy (from North Carolina), Tall Michael, Lloyd, Hoff, Heath, and me. I've hinted recently that the Zooms might begin to transition to more of a hybrid with more people gathered together in one place on Friday evening, but I get the impression everyone really enjoys what we have here. That makes me really happy to see.


Thursday, June 3rd

I think I should add an update here on how the world feels right now, or at least my local world. The pandemic was declared almost 15 months ago, and it seems to almost be over. We won't have any declaration of this until we reach a certain percentage of the population who have received at least their first vaccination shot.

I began this journey of reflections last April, and later filled in several months back as well with supporting details and contextual info, but if I had to guess, my time writing it on a regular basis is quickly coming to a close. I'll still blog about this and that as I always have, but once the pandemic is officially over, so too will these blog entries.

So where are we today? How do things stand and how am I? Well, I'm glad you asked.

Mask mandates have eased completely in some places and only barely in others. Whether by actual decision of the store owners or simply because they've forgotten to take down the old sign, masks are still required in many shops. My friend Heath and I went to Resorts World Casino on Monday, and masks were still required. I asked the security guard when I entered, and he just shrugged and said, "Here they are," his tone inferring his confusion as well since they've been made optional elsewhere. "I got my shots, so I dunno," he added. "Yeah, same," I said. "Well, hopefully it'll be over in another couple of weeks."

In my local King Kullen supermarket one week earlier, 97% of the customers were wearing masks and maybe only two or three were not. I asked the cashier if it was optional and he shook his head like he didn't know. I took it that since the staff were all masked, they were still required to either way. Calling the manager over for me, he kept scanning my groceries as I asked her what their policy was. "It's optional if you're vaccinated," she told me. So then my next question remains, did all those customers think the policy was still in effect or did 97% of them choose to keep their masks on?

It's a fascinating sociological experience right now. My closest friends who have been vaccinated are all completely fine and feel safe without the mask, but the world at large, at least the world outside my door, seems to be filled with people who want to keep wearing one. I certainly don't blame them, but neither do I wish to join them. I for one feel completely safe, and I trust that the vaccination is protecting me.

Besides my Friday night plans and my Monday casino trip with Heath, I also saw Danny and Heath on Sunday evening for dinner and a movie as well.

My health is the next big update, and I do mean big, because that is an accurate description of my belly at this point. I've known for quite a while now that I need to reverse course and lose weight, but until this week, I haven't started taking significant steps to do so. I now have an Excel chart I'm keeping to track my exercise, food, and steps for the day. It's motivating me to keep up my streak and make a difference.

The world is getting better, the country is getting better, and my life at home will hopefully keep getting better, especially once Andy rejoins my quaranteam. His return may still be months away (late August or early September is our best guess), but it's a hell of a lot closer now than ever before, and that gives me hope.

##

Update at 6:46 PM: I've just come back from my local market, Cross Island Fruits, and the sign on the door said something like, "Consistent with updated information from New York State and the CDC, masks will no longer be required for vaccinated people." I took that sucker off as I walked in and was happy to keep it pocketed then throughout the store. Once again, however, most of the store, maybe 98-99% this time, were wearing masks. I only saw one or two other people unmasked (one for sure, and the other was unmasked as she left, so I'm not sure what she did while shopping). Grateful to be in the minority on this one.


Friday, May 28th

On Facebook, I wrote (partly echoing what I told you in the previous entry):

I had an ugly cry in the car Monday morning after leaving Andy in North Carolina. I've sadly gotten used to living here in New York without him (he's been there since November), but when I saw him last week, I was shocked to realize he has likewise gotten used to living there without me. It's sad but also helpful for us both, to be honest. Fighting it would be worse.

His dad approached my car just before I drove away to thank me for understanding Andy's need to be there right now. As I was in the midst of the aforementioned ugly cry at the time, I barely let out an "it's okay", but I really did mean it just the same. It is what it is. His mom needs him, his dad needs him, and Andy has chosen to be an angel for them in a truly inspiring way.

With more and more of us getting vaccinated and the mask mandates relaxed, however, I do hope to see more of you in person soon.

Fifty-ninth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Rich, Andy (from North Carolina), and then Tall Michael, Hoff, and me all together in my house in Malverne! First three-person in-person Zoom!

After the Zoom, Rich came over then too, so it was my second four-person gathering here since the start of the pandemic. Hoff and Rich were here last time too, so Tall Michael just took Heath's place this time. It was a lot of fun to have a nice small group to chat with, and we watched the new Cruella movie on Disney+ as well. Fun movie and great music!

Tuesday, May 25th

I had an ugly cry in the car Monday morning after saying goodbye to Andy. He and his dad came outside then as I tried to hide it while setting up my GPS, but barely held it together. Then, amidst my inability to speak, Andy's dad approached the car and thanked me for being so understanding about Andy needing to be there. It was a long overdue admission from him, but I was grateful to receive it nonetheless, and was able to respond with some utterance of "it's okay" or "no problem". My tears were doing the talking, so I don't recall exactly what I said.


Friday, May 21st

Three dine-in restaurant meals later, and I seem to still be alive, and even better than that, I don't seem to be sick with anything (other than a familiar feeling of inflation in my brain's ego region). The buffets were nice, especially the China Buffet in Greensboro. Golden Corral made us use sanitizer right before putting a disposable glove on, which made slipping the cheap plastic glove on our hand difficult. This aside, it was their poor service that really bugged me. Our waitress was ever-present but mostly chatting with people and hardly ever clearing away our dishes. There were six of us, so the dishes stacked up over and over again. My favorite meal of the week was last night when Andy and I met our friend Keaton for dinner, drinks, and a long-overdue unmasked catch-up. While China Buffet in Greensboro still takes the prize for best food, last night's beer (Wicked Weed Pernicious), atmosphere (no masks!), and company were simply unbeatable.

After my Zoom call with friends this evening, I'll pack up my computer and put it in the car ahead of my drive back on Monday. I'll put other things back in the car as I can too, to eliminate the need for much work that morning. My plan is to leave here around 9 AM on Monday, so I hopefully won't hit the NYC traffic until after rush hour.

Fifty-eighth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Tall Michael, Lloyd, Hoff, Rich, Rick, Andy & me (together in NC!). Among the usual chats about how we were all doing, we discussed the changes to the mask mandate and the reopening of Broadway, including our plans to see a show together this fall.


Wednesday, May 19th

Okay, time for some major updates. I'll share more about my trip in a moment, but without burying the lead here too far, I'm happy to report the CDC announced on Thursday that you no longer need to wear a mask, indoors or out, if you are fully vaccinated! This is the moment we have all been waiting for, so you may have expected there would be celebrations in the street, cars honking, fireworks going off, and parties left and right like crazy. Nothing of the sort actually happened. Instead, people everywhere in the country (with plenty of exceptions, I'm sure) seem to have thought, "Is this real? Did Dr. Fauci agree with this? Did President Biden? Does my governor? I think I better wait to see what others are doing."

I heard the news on the TV in my room at Borgata, and immediately texted Andy.

Sean (4:27 PM): You heard the breaking news from the CDC?
Andy (4:28 PM): No
Sean (4:29 PM): Vaccinated people can go maskless - Pending local restrictions/business preferences - White House shared the good news too, so it's not some rogue opinion

I got in the elevator a little while later to head down to the casino level to pick up food, and there were two women in the elevator already, one a little older than me and another in her mid-to-late 60s. The older woman didn't have a mask on, and was asking her friend if she thought they'd give her a problem. "It was on the news?" the younger asked. "Yes," I chimed in. "I heard it too. The business itself may still require masks though." We talked briefly about the fact that we were all vaccinated and had our proof of vaccination with us (mine was in my room) in case it was requested. "The worst they'll do is ask you to put it back on," I told her.

When I got down to the casino, I was half-expecting to see celebrations, maybe even someone running around with a large trash bag as people threw their masks away in celebration. Instead, I saw almost everyone was still masked, with only two or three unmasked, as if waiting to be told to put it back on. The news had yet to catch on, and as it turned out, New Jersey decided to keep the mandate in place for now. As a reminder to any international readers, the United States is united in many ways, but each state has its own platform for specific laws and the like. It's more complicated than I care to get into here, but suffice to say, New Jersey Governor Phil Murphy is not lifting the mandate just yet.

As to the gambling portion of my trip, I will not go into specifics except to say I didn't win. On Wednesday, I visited the Live! casino in Philadelphia, and Golden Nugget, Harrah's, and Borgata in Atlantic City. On Thursday, I visited Tropicana, Caesar's, Wild Wild West, Bally's, Resorts, Hard Rock, and Ocean. Eleven casinos total with nothing to show but a free umbrella, a bunch of free drinks, two free nights at Borgata, $125 in free slot play, and a lot of fun in between. It really was enjoyable trying to win, but it's a hell of a lot more fun winning, so I continue to hope my luck changes soon. In the mean time, I'm going to institute a few new rules for myself.

First, I cannot go to the casino alone anymore. It must be a shared, fun experience with friends or loved ones. And second, multi-day trips must be on stricter budgets. Between stimulus money due to the pandemic and my tax return money, I'm not down anything at all, only a substantial part of this "bonus" money. Even so, I need to be smarter about this, which brings me to the third new rule. I will choose a machine I very much want to play and I will stay on that same machine for much longer than I usually do, and with a higher bet at that. The best payouts are on higher bets and after more than just $20-$40 of play, so I need to focus my investments more than usual.

Alright, alright. Enough with the gambling. The real reason for this trip was to see Andy again. Arriving in the driveway here on Friday evening was such a happy moment for me. Andy and I hadn't been together in person for four and a half months, so seeing him come outside to greet me and giving (and receiving) a warm hug was so great. I know my time with him is short, just nine days really, so I'm cherishing every chance I get to hug him, kiss him, rub his back, and just enjoy being in his company. Leaving him here is so, so difficult for me, but I know he needs to be here for his mom and to help his dad, so it's not helpful for me to show them my emotions too much. I don't want his parents to feel bad for me, because they already have enough on their plates, and truthfully, I'm the lucky one in the sense I can escape to peace and quiet by myself when I leave, whereas they have Andy's mom to tend to all day long and often in the middle of the night too.

Lynette, Andy's poor mom, obviously has it the worst. Though she's still on the same very long plateau as she was when I last saw her on January 1st, I'm fairly certain she's teetering on the edge of this plateau now. For how long she can hold onto this "level" is still a mystery. I just pray she doesn't suffer when her time comes. Nothing scary or traumatic for Andy or his dad either, please God.

On Monday night this week, I experienced another pandemic first: I went out to eat in a real restaurant! Not only that, but it was a buffet! We wore our masks until we were seated and whenever we were up from our seats to get food, and we were also issued a reusable plastic glove to grab handles, so that our hands never touched a shared utensil. I know a lot of people are concerned about buffets, and it makes sense, but I felt safe. We're actually going to another buffet tonight too! Who even am I anymore?! To top it all off, I'm meeting my friend Keaton for dinner tomorrow night too. Fourteen and a half months with no dine-in restaurant experiences and now three this week alone while I visit Andy and his family here in North Carolina. Wowser!


Friday, May 14th

Fifty-seventh weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Tall Michael, Lloyd, Hoff, Luxor (briefly, from work), Heath, Andy & me (together in NC!). Andy started the Zoom call late, and got on finally with Tall Michael and then Lloyd when I arrived in the driveway outside at 6:15. Andy came out to meet me and then we both came onto the Zoom call from Andy's office/bedroom here at his parents' house.


Tuesday, May 11th

Off to Atlantic City tomorrow morning with a pit stop in Philadelphia to see the new Live! casino that opened up there in January. After that, I'll visit the Golden Nugget and Harrah's before checking in to my hotel room at Borgata. I predict a nap and some quality relaxation time then, followed by some Borgata slot play at night. On Thursday, I'll sleep in and grab breakfast, then head to the boardwalk, where my hope is to visit all the casinos over there as well. The dream, of course, is to win really big, but I'll settle for the following: 1) winning more than losing, breaking even, or losing very little. Most of all, the plan is to have fun!

On Friday morning, I'll check out of Borgata and drive to Kernersville, North Carolina to be reunited with Andy and see his parents, aunt, and uncle again. I'll be there for his mom's 77th birthday on May 16th and Andy's 45th birthday on May 22nd. Then I'll drive home to New York again on Monday, May 24th.


Friday, May 7th

Another Friday, another day in the life. When I finally see Andy again next week, it will have been 4-1/2 months since I last saw him in person. That's 19 weeks or 132 days. There were only about 34 weeks of total quarantine time before Andy went to North Carolina. I could whine for paragraphs again here, but to simply state a now-obvious fact instead, he's been there a long time, and I've been here by myself for a long time.

One of the perks of our relationship is that he helps me not overeat, and goes out for walks with me now and then too, which usually inspires me to do plenty of walks by myself too. It is terribly sad that my self-motivation is shot to hell right now, and I absolutely know I need to lose weight, but I have yet to do so.

Fifty-sixth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Hoff, Andy (from NC), Danny, and me. Danny was here to do something for me here in the house, but was on camera a few times too. Small group this week, and I pondered whether or not we'd hit an end to these, but then I remembered we had six last week. Michael also told me that he enjoys them when he's able to pop on.

Monday, May 3rd

Several times this past week, the phrase "Groundhog Day" has come to mind. There's just something painfully palpable about stasis. You get lost in the same old routine day after day, and the same four walls of your house day after day. I'm no less grateful today than I was on April 21st when I reached my all-clear day, two weeks after my second vaccination, but perhaps it's because of this that I feel so stuck all of a sudden. I'm vaccinated and as safe from Covid as I can possibly be, but because Andy's still not home from North Carolina and a mask is still required whenever I go to the store or am around unvaccinated people, the endlessness of this pandemic is getting to me.

All that said, I do have good news to report. Despite not having Andy with me for my birthday, I am going to drive down again to visit him for his birthday. I'll do two nights in Atlantic City first next week, and then drive directly from AC to AC (Andy's initials) on Friday the 14th. His birthday is Saturday the 22nd, and then I'll drive home again on Monday the 24th. So at least I have this to look forward to! Seeing Andy in person again for the first time in four and a half months (19 long weeks) will be great.

Worth noting: after so many weeks in a row of casino fun, I have not been back now since the day I got my second vaccination shot, April 7th. This coming Saturday, May 8th, I promised my friend Rick I'd take him to Jake's 58, and then like I said, I'll be visiting Atlantic City (and several of its casinos) next week as well. This is honestly why I haven't gone to the casino near me in the past month, because I knew I would soon be planning an Atlantic City trip. I think I'll bring $200 with me to Jake's and then quite a bit more to AC. All with the eternal hopes of bringing a lot more money back home with me!


Saturday, May 1st

Well, it's my birthday. Again. Second birthday "in quarantine", and sadly, the very first birthday since 2001 that I have not had Andy here by my side to make it better. It's a really weird feeling, to be honest. Not just the absence of Andy, which is its own months-long weird feeling, but also because birthdays have become less special in recent years. I certainly cherish them as signifiers of how far I've come in life and how much love comes my way on this day from so many people, but unless it's a big-number birthday, I don't see the day as wondrous as I used to. This is certainly part and parcel of getting older, but I'm reminded today of a particular birthday back in high school, when I finished the day thinking, "Well, I guess I was due to have a worst birthday sooner or later." I don't want today to take that record, but I must confess I worry it will.

All I know is, Andy's not here with me, and that makes life suck in some ways. I woke up alone as I do every day now since January 3rd, and I have many hours today alone by myself. I'm looking forward to seeing a couple of my closest friends (Danny and Rick) today around noon, one of whom I haven't seen in person for more than a year, and then three other friends (Hoff, Rich, and Heath) said they'll come by this evening, and two of them I haven't seen in more than a year either. These are all great, great ways to celebrate my birthday, and I remind myself to focus on the positives rather than the negatives. No one wants to be miserable on his birthday, and so I plan today to appreciate the gift of life (thank you, Mom and Dad!) and the gifts of friendship. And I'll hopefully talk to Andy a few times today too.


Friday, April 30th

Fifty-fifth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Rick, Andy (from North Carolina), Rich, Tall Michael, Hoff, and me. I opened an Amazon box Andy had delivered to me while on the call, and was laughing to see the sweet but funny gifts Andy had sent me for my birthday: a Timothée Chalamet action figure (from his upcoming film Dune) and a Timothée Chalamet pillowcase.


Monday, April 26th

On Wednesday afternoon, I spoke outdoors at a relatively close distance with my next-door neighbor Teresa. On Thursday night, my friend Danny came by. We ordered from my local pizza place and watched The Princess Bride, which Danny had never seen. On Friday night, my friend Heath came over with Chinese food, and we watched another of my favorite movies, Sneakers. Both fantastic films and the guys seemed to enjoy the one they saw, but I need to let them pick next time.

On Saturday, I was due to help my friend Lloyd move, but I woke up feeling off. Not sick, but not well. I gave it a couple hours and took some Sudafed, but I just wasn't feeling right. I had to cancel. In any other year (well, aside from 2020 as well), I probably would have sucked it up and gone, but there was no way I was going to risk spreading whatever small thing I had to him and others. I ended up taking another dose four hours later and then another on Sunday too. I feel fine now, but I must admit, it's a bit unnerving. For the entire time I was unvaccinated, I never got sick, other than the small side effects of the shots themselves. I don't think I caught anything from Teresa, Danny, or Heath, but if I had to guess, just being exposed to other people's "ecosystems", so to speak, triggered a small response in my own "ecosystem". Perhaps that's a good thing in a way, especially if none of us got seriously ill because of it, but it still sucked for poor Lloyd whose plans had to change at the very last minute.

Excerpt of an email I sent to to my cousin Gerry in Portugal on Friday:

Andy's still in North Carolina tending to his dying mom. He's been there since mid-November, and since him coming home may mean she's passed, I feel guilty for wishing him back home too soon. Even so, I do miss him quite a lot. Video calls, weekly Zoom meetings with friends (and him), and text messages just aren't the same. Now that I'm fully vaccinated, as he will be as of early May, I'm going to drive down to visit with him and his family again for Andy's birthday in late May. I didn't need to be vaccinated before doing so, but as I had to get my shots here in New York (even though Andy was able to get his down there), it's just worked out this way.

I spent most of Saturday and Sunday getting very little done, although I did squeeze in a supermarket trip on Sunday once I was feeling better, and best of all, "drum roll please", I finished reading A Promised Land by Barack Obama! Began on January 3rd and finished on April 25th, so 113 days to read 700 pages = not very good. On Sunday the 25th, I also began reading Steve Martin's autobiography, Born Standing Up.

 

Today is Andy's second vaccination shot! Yes! just two more weeks for him now until he's safe to be unmasked around others.

Friday, April 23rd

Fifty-fourth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Luxor (briefly, mask on, from work), Andy (from North Carolina), Tall Michael, Lloyd, Heath, and me.

Thursday, April 22nd

I think by now you've learned, dear reader, whenever I'm away from the blog for a week or so, there are some very good reasons why, and this past week is no different.

On Saturday, April 17th, my friend Michael, aka Luxor, pointed a gun at my head. I'd seen him recently to have my glasses repaired, and one of his assistants pointed a gun at my head on that occasion. Having my temperature read this way is always odd, but it certainly does add some spice to my writing at least. On Saturday though, I got my eyes checked and picked out new frames for eyeglasses and sunglasses.

On Tuesday, April 20th, a very real, very scary gun came into my day, and even though it was 3.3 miles from my house, I was genuinely scared. The mass shootings in this country are nothing new, and anyone who thinks we don't have a gun problem in this country is in deep, deep denial. I've never understood why those who believe themselves to be "good guys with guns" simply don't accept that if they really are good guys, they should jump through a few more hoops to prove it. Why is owning something so deadly so easy to do?

At any rate, an employee of the Stop & Shop one town over from me shot and killed his manager, and tried to kill at least four other people, seriously wounding two of them before he ran out again. My friend Rick called to tell me about it as soon as he heard, and I subsequently texted two neighbors, a friend, and a family member who all live here in Malverne to let them know. For the next four hours, the gunman was on the loose, and reports of which direction he traveled conflicted with one another, only adding to the chaos and fear. Because he reportedly lived in Long Beach, and the road or bus route he'd travel in that direction runs just three blocks from my house, I was all the more rattled. I closed my blinds, lowered the volume on my TV, and eventually just stress cleaned until he was finally apprehended around 3 PM.

On Wednesday morning at 7:30, I saw my doctor for the first time in almost 14 months. I usually go once every six months, but because of the pandemic, I waited. As expected, my weight was up and so were my cholesterol and triglycerides. Each of these are issues I've been working on for the past two of months, but I was fairly certain going into the appointment that the numbers wouldn't show much change as it's apparently three full months or more of healthier eating habits needed before showing up positively on the blood work.

At 8:30 AM on Wednesday, the 21st day of April in the year 2021, I officially reached my "all clear" day two weeks to the minute after my second vaccination. How have I celebrated? Well, I chatted outside for a few minutes with my next door neighbor and friend Teresa, who has also been fully vaccinated. Other than that, just Taco Bell for dinner. I'm hoping my friend Danny will come by for a movie tonight or tomorrow night, and I'm helping my friend Lloyd move on Saturday with our friend Heath, and all of the aforementioned people are fully vaccinated as well.

But how am I feeling? Am I suddenly relaxed and no longer worried? No. But I'm realizing only today as I write this that my fears are not like a light switch that can be quickly turned off. Instead, they're like a blanket of anxious energy I am slowly removing from around my neck, shoulders, and body. The defenses aren't suddenly down, but I am in the slow process of lowering my defenses. It feels good to relax a little for sure, and I hope the feeling increases each day. For the moment though, the blanket is still wrapped around my waist. It'll be a little while before I kick it off for good.

Friday, April 16th

Fifty-third weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Andy (from North Carolina), Hoff, Danny, Lloyd, Tall Michael, Heath, and me. Everard, Andy's dad, has waved from the background a couple of times previously, or said hello to me, but on this occasion, Andy formally introduced him to everyone briefly.

Tuesday, April 13th

On Saturday the 10th, I attended the baptism of my great niece Adalyn Mae at Saint Agnes Cathedral in Rockville Centre. I felt comfortable attending because it's a huge indoor space, but once I got there, I was disappointed to see they had most pews roped off throughout the building, so we all had to crowd into the front 10 or so pews on both sides of the main aisle. Despite that, it seemed people were able to stay a safe distance away anyway, and I was as well, so really not a problem.

Worth mentioning though are the changes to the service itself. Though the priest could safely pour water over each child's head, he couldn't anoint them with oils as is part of the sacrament. Instead, as he explained, we trust the Holy Spirit will do the work. One final oil did need to be administered at the end of the service though, but for this, he used a cotton ball to dip into the ointment and then make the sign of the cross onto each child's foreheads without his hand touching the babies. He was always masked when near the people, only unmasked when by himself up on the altar.

Today, Tuesday, I published a new story on Medium for the first time in almost a year. I've been thinking a lot about this precipice we're on right now as a country and a world, where some are fully vaccinated, some are not, and so many are in the middle like me, who have had one or both shots but are still not at the safe, two-weeks-later mile marker. My article can be found at this link.

I went to Costco this evening, and when I got home, a wave of emotions hit me all at once. Costco has played a significant role in the drama of this past year, certainly in my life and Andy's. It's the first place we had to go to with face coverings on (a scarf for me and a neck gator for Andy back then). It was also where we got things for our house that we had to (or were told we should) wipe down thoroughly. It's where we stood on long lines that wrapped around the building, where I wore disposable gloves to retrieve items and place them in our cart, and a place where after visiting, we always showered and later washed the clothes we wore on our visit before wearing them again. So while my concerns have eased considerably over time, Costco still represents a place of stress for me.

As I returned from my trip today though, without even thinking of it until that moment, I realized this was my last trip there before being fully vaccinated. The next time I go, I will be safe, well past my second vaccination. Yes, I will still need to wear a mask and be smart, but I will feel much more comfortable beneath my mask, beneath my skin.

Friday, April 9th

Today would have been my mother's 85th birthday. She died at the age of 68 back in 2004, five years after my father passed in 1999 (he'd be turning 95 this November, wow). Perhaps inspired by my mother's birthday, I wrote a poem today about spring.

And yet, look at this. I've once again gone ahead and buried the lead! I got my second vaccination shot on Wednesday!!!

How do I feel? Well, it's still kind of surreal. I never would have expected I'd get attached to the mask, or be so unwilling to toss it aside even after getting the double-dose vaccination, but I must confess I do still have some minor trepidation. Scientists seem to be assuring us that even if we do catch the Covid-19 virus after we're fully vaccinated, it will be no more than a flu at worst, and certainly nothing requiring hospitalization. Andy is quick to remind me, however, that I certainly don't want to get the flu either, but after 13 months of mask wearing, the last five of which were spent living by myself, I desperately need human connection again. I need to have a friend or two over to watch a movie inside my house with our masks off (other vaccinated friends, that is).

My second shot was on Wednesday at 8:30 AM, so I've only got another 11 days, 16 hours, and 45 minutes until I'm safe to mingle with other vaccinated people, but who's counting. I truly believe, as others have said, that I will feel much safer beneath my required mask in public going forward, until enough of the population is vaccinated to eradicate the danger.

After the shot, I decided to go into the casino. Lost $99.77, but I had a lot of fun in the hour and a half I was there, with several moments late in the experience in which I was up money, but it just wasn't to be. C'est la vie. 12 trips total in 2021, and I am down $595.24.

Fifty-second weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Andy (from North Carolina), Hoff, Rich, Lloyd, Tall Michael, Heath, and me. More optimism for future in-person hangouts continued this week, and as I've had both shots now, I asked what others who are fully vaccinated thought about mingling with others.


Monday, April 5th

I had a good weekend. On Saturday morning, I slept in a little (I find this is harder to do as I get older, unless I go to bed relatively early), then made coffee and read in bed until noon. Watched some golf and had breakfast after that, but soon decided this could not just be a do-nothing weekend. My housework and cleanup projects have been a bit lax the past two or three weeks, which I attributed to a much-needed mental health break, but it was time for me to climb back on the horse and get something done.

As I'd previously cleaned up one of my upstairs storage closets, I was planning to make use of the empty space by moving some of my household clutter in there, specifically kitchenware and housewares items I've collected over the years, mostly from my current job. Some are items Andy and I want for ourselves, while many are things we can gift to others. I was able to tidy up some other areas as well, so all in all, it was a very productive Saturday.

On Sunday morning, I unfortunately chose to drive over to the casino. So (Sean pauses to sigh) listen. I'm going to sound defensive now, I'm sure, but here it is anyway. I'm living alone, and there's only so much reading and TV watching I can do before I go stir-crazy and need to escape my cage. I have a modest gambling budget, money I am okay with losing, and it makes me happy to try to win, so it's something I enjoy doing. I'll skip to the chase: I lost 199.97, so after 11 trips total in 2021, I am down $495.47. And yeah, that's only a $45 loss each time on average, but the cumulative number still sucks! On the upside, I've lost more than this in just a couple hours at a casino too. Also, it's only a fraction of my received stimulus money, so besides a shitload of donations to important causes this past year and this wad of cash gone too, I'm still doing very well. If I sound defensive here, so be it. I prefer to think of myself as simply an eternal optimist!

That afternoon, I edited my friend Becky's book for Kindle. Have I even mentioned this project? I can't remember, but suspect I have in one way or another. Last year and this year, I've proofread and edited two novels for friends. They're both paid projects, but quite time consuming nonetheless in addition to my full-time job. The first one is long since out of my hands, but the second is almost done. The paperback proof copies are shipping to Becky this week, and I just have to get the Kindle version ready for sale too, so yesterday I spent a couple hours formatting that version. Feels good to know I'm almost done with all this extra editing work (my full-time job as a proofreader and my freelance proofreading job besides, the latter of which comes and goes but is coming back again next week).

My goal for the rest of 2021 is to have no more significant book editing projects other than my own. My personal writing has been patiently waiting on the back burner lately, but it's time to move it up to the front for some proper stirring.

 

Friday, April 2nd

We've now entered Month 13 of the pandemic, although my work-from-home anniversary is still two weeks away. When this shitshow clusterfuck dumpsterfire all started in March 2020, we were guessing it might take two weeks, a now-amusing nod to the movie The Money Pit. And while some scientists were warning the pandemic could go on for as long as a year or two, we all scoffed right away. "There is no way it'll go on that long. Pfft. Puh-lease!"

Nevertheless, here we are. We only get 70-80 years of life on this planet if we're lucky, and many more people get far less than that. So when you talk about any one year of your lifetime, it's no small matter. It's a huge chunk of time, and should not be diminished. One year is one year, and even if there is just cause to call this one year a shitshow clusterfuck dumpsterfire, it's still a year of your life that is deserving of supreme value and appreciation.

When I think back on the past 12+ months of my life, I remember both the huge issues and the tiny moments. I remember the fear I felt the night Andy and I drove to a local Chipotle to pick up our food, how seeing just one of the three other customers waiting in the back of the store wearing a mask scared me (mask wearing was not common or required yet). I remember slicing open my thumb while cutting peppers. I remember the first time I took a shower while on the clock, the first time I crossed the street to avoid oncoming pedestrian traffic, and the first time I hosted friends in the backyard for a safe, socially distant hangout.

I also remember exactly how I felt when on the evening of November 27th, the day after Thanksgiving, Andy told me he'd prefer to stay down in North Carolina as long as I didn't mind driving back to New York the next day by myself. I was full of energy and determination that weekend though, happy to support my partner as he helped out his parents. But living alone during the month of December, hanging Christmas cards and just one small pre-lit Christmas tree by myself, put me into a new kind of lonely funk.

I drove back down to North Carolina on December 20th, grateful to be seeing Andy again and ready to take him back home at last, after seven long weeks of him being in North Carolina. But on January 1st, hours before we were both to return together to New York, Andy told me he once again wanted to stay, and I had to dig down much deeper to fortify myself for the emotional and literal roads ahead of me. Living alone is not all it's cracked up to be, and infinitely more difficult during a pandemic when I can't have friends over.

Today, April 2nd, is three months since I last saw Andy in person, and it's four and a half months since he's been away from our home. Those close to me are quick to compliment us, saying in some way or another that our ability to be apart for so long is a testament to the strength of our relationship, and my support for Andy and his parents' needs, especially his mother's needs right now, is so important. And I agree, and I believe that's exactly what I've done. I take no issue with his need to be there and I certainly want to support him as much as possible, which is my way of helping his mom and dad too. I do, however, need to vent about my frustrations and loneliness now and then, so I hope, dear reader, you'll indulge me. Please don't judge me unfairly if I occasionally complain.

All that said, I'll be fully vaccinated in just five more days, and fully safe to start hanging out with other fully vaccinated people again in just 19 more days, so these next three weeks will be filled with a lot of impatient yet optimistic waiting.

Fifty-first weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Andy (from North Carolina), Luxor (from Atlantic City), Tall Michael (from Manhattan), Heath, Hoff, and me. There was once again a sense of optimist in the air, helped in part by Tall Michael toasting to a happy Friday with his coffee from a mall in Manhattan. He assured us that being fully vaccinated definitely makes you much more comfortable about taking little trips like this into the city, and Heath agreed.


Monday, March 29th

It was a full weekend for me, and a mostly good one. On Saturday, I left home around 3:15 to head over to my sister Marilyn and her partner Annie's apartment in Bay Shore. We didn't hug or kiss, but did sit close to each other while eating, but as I mentioned last Monday, we'd discussed this beforehand to some degree, deciding without saying so that we fully trusted our safety with the others. Annie made a delicious chicken cordon bleu casserole and Marilyn made some delicious garlic bread, so along with a rare treat--a small bottle of Dr. Pepper--I was thinking, "What did I, what did I, what did I do to deserve this?"

After dinner, we went out to the water--their apartment is in a house located right on a canal--watched the sunset, and even fed some geese! Because they see the same geese, swans, cormorants, great blue herons, and other various ducks, bats, and other creatures all the time, they've named some of them.

"Is that Gracie?" Annie asked, watching as two geese began swimming up the canal in our general direction.

She clanged some things together along the side of the dock to get their attention, and sure enough, they made a bee, er, gooseline right at us. Reaching into a heavy-lidded storage container, Annie grabbed a bunch of small pebble-like oats of some sort and encouraged me to do the same. The geese watched patiently until we dropped the specially made-for-birds food into the water for them.

Marilyn explained to me that because they'd named a mallard who was cozying up to her the year before, "George", they named this female goose "Gracie". The male goose with her now didn't have a name, they said, but Annie pointed out to me that since Gracie was probably pregnant, the male goose was purposely waiting to eat until he was sure she would have enough first. I thought that was pretty cool to see!

At some point before we went back inside, I just had to tell Marilyn and Annie how grateful I was feeling in the moment. After a year cooped up inside so much, the last third of which I've been home alone, it was so great to be around people again and in such a beautiful, nature loving way at that!

I got home around 11 PM, the longest I've been away from my house in months, and settled into bed finally around 12:30. High winds and then rain the first half of Sunday kept me in bed for a while. I'm embarrassed to say that I'm still reading President Obama's book. With a terrible realization that it's now late March and I'm still reading the same book since January 3rd (albeit a 700-page book). On page 468 now, so that's 39 pages a week, I've just calculated. I really, really need to force myself to keep the TV off more often in the next couple of weeks so I can just finish this already. It's a great read, honestly. I think my brain is still getting over the insane politics of the last four years and the attack on the Capitol on January 6th. I need to avoid the political books for a while now!

And finally, because it needs to be said, I once again opted not to go to the casino this weekend. Feels good to take a little break, honestly. My second vaccination is coming up next week already, so as long as I'm feeling okay after my appointment, I'll probably stop into the casino for a nice place-is-empty weekday morning visit.

 

Friday, March 26th

Fiftieth weekly Zoom chat with friends and one year since we began these. Participants this week included Rick, Andy (from North Carolina), Hoff, Lloyd, Tall Michael, Heath (from Mexico!), and me. We discussed vaccinations and vacations, celebrating the fact that a few of us were already fully vaccinated and taking or already took trips somewhere. Lloyd was in Puerto Rico the week before and Heath, as mentioned, was joining us live from Mexico. Tall Michael has plans to do the Camino in Spain this summer, as long as international flights open up for vaccinated travelers, and I mentioned that I'm still not sure if Andy and I can do our Vegas trip in September.

 

 

Monday, March 22nd

It only hit me for the first time yesterday: in just one month, I can get together again with friends and family members who have been vaccinated without any of us needing a mask. After an entire year of my life spent "in quarantine", this small change will surely feel monumental.

Also, no, in case you're wondering at this point, I did not go to the casino this weekend. I'd gone and won on Wednesday the 17th, so I decided the least I could do was skip this past weekend. As I have dinner plans with my sister and her partner this coming Saturday night, if I go to the casino at all, it'll be on Sunday morning, as I don't feel comfortable being around a lot of people immediately before being unmasked with them, out of respect.

When they invited me, we had to talk it out a little, which is something else very much worth documenting here for posterity.

Just as I had trusted this same sister along with my brother Bill and his wife up in Vermont last summer, trusting anyone is a really big fucking deal to me. It's nothing short of astonishing how many dozens of people some of my family members and Facebook friends have allowed into their circle of trust.

Knowing that each and every member of your personal trust bubble has individual bubbles of their own should be enough to scare a person, but I apparently know quite a few foolishly fearless folks out there!

My brief conversation with my sister's partner about trust went like this:

ME: Sounds great, but like outdoors if it's warm enough? Or for trusting each other as fellow paranoids?

HER: Inside trusting each other. It would only be the three of us.

The two of them have been exceedingly cautious this past year just like I have, so the decision to trust them comes so much quicker than most other people I know.

 

 

Friday, March 19th

So what happened after I posted that entry on Wednesday? Two words: side effects. Exactly three hours after getting the first shot, the arm pain started getting noticeably annoying. Another hour after that, just as I was finally having a late breakfast, he fatigue began creeping in, imperceptible at first but quickly growing. I decided to take a nap that went for about an hour, and spent another hour after that just laying in bed and looking at my phone.

The fatigue and arm pain continued until bedtime that night, but I was thankfully, gloriously all better on Thursday again.

Forty-ninth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Danny, Andy (from North Carolina), Tall Michael, Heath, Hoff, and me.

 

 

Wednesday, March 17th

 

Happy Saint Patrick's Day! I got my first vaccination shot at 8:19 AM today. There were no less than four checkpoints between me and Table 15, and one more after that before I received my dose (on the other end of the same table), which was both daunting and exciting. Knowing that you have gotten that far makes the process much like collecting your winnings at the lottery office. You don't care how many people make you stop, ask you questions, or tell you to show them your identification and papers, as long as you know this is all for a very good reason. After I got the shot, I was asked to sit in a waiting area for 15 minutes just to make sure I was feeling well before I left. Easy shmeasy.

I went to the casino after that, just a two minute drive to the other side of the property, and am happy to report I won some money this time: $90.11. So after 10 trips total in 2021, I am down only $295.50. Yes, being down isn't a good thing, but we're talking about an average loss here of $29.55 per trip, so I'm happy. 

 

 

Tuesday, March 16th

I need to attempt to put into words here the exact feeling of this moment. The pandemic is over a year old and tomorrow I finally get the first of two Pfizer vaccination shots. While returning to the office could come as soon as June, it's still a little ways away now. Even so, there's this palpable energy I'm feeling which I think I'd call anxious optimism. Returning to normal is a good thing to be sure, but the temporary normal included so many good things too. So many days in sweatpants and slippers sipping coffee and looking out the window of my house in between jobs, watching the news, or enjoying PGA Tour golf on a Thursday afternoon when I'd usually be in the office. The ability to shower a little less frequently and not have to drive back and forth to work, use the same small bathroom with colleagues, and put up with yelling and other distractions while I try to do my job are all great too. So much of that old normal will soon enough be my new normal again, but until it is, I'm in this sacred cloud of cherished peace in the middle.

My hope is that I'll be fully vaccinated long enough before going back into the office to actually enjoy time with trusted friends and family members again without the need for masks or social distancing. And while yes, there's always time after work or on the weekends, you can't put a price on the supreme value of getting the best of both worlds, even if only for a month or two.

Tomorrow at 8:30 AM is the first of my two vaccination shots, and I took off for the whole day for two big reasons, and neither of them, strangely enough, has anything to do with St. Patrick's Day. Well, maybe a little. More on that in a minute.

The first reason I took off is so I can get the shot without worrying about rushing back home to log into work. (My boss would say don't rush, but I would anyway.) I don't want to get this potentially lifesaving injection with an anxious mind. I want to receive it with love and deepest gratitude. And the second reason I took off is so I can celebrate! While my weight and blood pressure are what qualified me to get the vaccine before millions of other people, I must still appreciate the gift of getting one at all. So many people have died from this terrible virus (over 536,000 souls in the United States and over 2.6 MILLION people worldwide), so I consider myself very lucky to have stayed safe and healthy throughout the entire ordeal.

As to the Saint Patrick's Day sidebar, there are two little notes worth mentioning. First, I'll be stopping into the casino after I get my first shot, so I'm hoping for a little luck of the Irish there. And second, there's a crazy symmetry to this entire experience. I last went into work the day after Saint Patrick's Day last year and my desk at the office is still decorated with Saint Patrick's Day items. So getting the first shot on that day--I'm named after the saint as well--is both remarkable and poignant.

 

 

Sunday, March 14th

 

Since I've shared my recent gambling adventures with you so far this year, I owe you the honest truth about the loss I sadly suffered this morning. A week ago I told you that after eight trips total, I was down only 185.63. Unfortunately, I lost $199.98 today on the slots, more than doubling my total losses. After nine trips, I'm now down 385.61. Not good. That said, I'm an optimist, so I quickly remind myself I've worked three freelance jobs this past year in addition to my full-time job and some incoming stimulus money, so these casino losses are still very far from any kind of pain on my bank account. My first vaccination shot is this Wednesday, March 17th (Saint Patrick's Day) on the same property as the casino, so I do plan to stop in again, but I think I'll make it a short visit with only $100 in my wallet. May skip next weekend then too.

 

 

Friday, March 12th

Wow! What a day! This morning I had a mission: get a haircut and make some spaghetti to have with the sauce my brother Paul gave me recently. And while the spaghetti box is out on the counter still awaiting my attention, I did get a haircut finally! Yes! First one since October, and man did I need one! My hair was so long, I was constantly feeling it covering my ears and annoying me on the pillow when I went to sleep each night. I asked the barber to cut it short for me (4 on the top, 2 on the sides), but he kinda just went with a 2 all over. Wowzer does it look different--shortest I've had it in maybe 10 years or more. But that's not even the big news I have to share.

 

While chatting with my friend Linda on Facebook Messenger about vaccination availability at the Javits Center, she suddenly sent me this: "Aqueduct just opened up for March 17 ... go get 'em". I didn't even respond. I just went to the site right away, clicked through, and bam! I got an appointment for the first Pfizer shot on March 17th, just five days away! And Saint Patrick's Day, no less! Very happy camper here, and to top it all off, it's Friday!

Forty-eighth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Andy (from North Carolina), Charlie, Rich, Lloyd, Heath, and me.

 

 

Thursday, March 11th

 

Today is one year since the WHO declared the pandemic. On the vaccination appointments availability site, I tried refreshing it many, many times to get an earlier appointment. At one point, I got very close to securing, in this order, the shot on April 12th, March 13th, and March 18th, but each time I saw one, someone else had snatched it up before me. There must be so many people doing the same thing right now, refreshing their pages like crazy.

As of 12:08 PM, I got an appointment for Wednesday, April 21st, 10 days earlier than the appointment I had scheduled. Canceled that one right after. So I'm now just under six weeks away from getting at least the first shot of the vaccination.

 

 

Wednesday, March 10th

BIG updates to share with you today in the world of vaccinations. Yesterday at 10:48 AM, I got an invitation to a video meeting with my entire department at work for 11 AM, just 12 minutes later. While I wasn't too concerned, Andy was immediately worried it was bad news when I told him about it. As it turns out, our department manager just wanted to show us how to refresh the New York State vaccination availability page in order to get an appointment, especially as they sometimes pop up randomly when someone cancels theirs. Great advice, and something I'd start taking right away that afternoon.

At noon, Andy told me on IM that he was about to leave to bring his parents in to get their second (final) shots of the vaccine. Yay! So as of yesterday afternoon, they're all set now.

I have checked the New York State vaccination appointment site a bunch of times the last few days, especially since my manager walked us through some tricks on there, and when I tried it this afternoon at 1:00, lo and behold there were a whole slew of new appointment times available! I clicked through, refreshed, looked around at three different sites (Aqueduct Racetrack, Jones Beach, and Stonybrook University) and realized the earliest appointment I could get was May 1st at what is actually the closest site to my house: Aqueduct. Ironic on two fronts: one because I've been going to Aqueduct for the casino every freakin' week lately, and two because May 1st is my birthday!

It's still seven weeks away, but I'm grateful to be so close now! There's also, I must say, a great amount of building anxiety for me in going back to work in the office. Though I don't expect we'll do so till June at the earliest, I have gained a lot of weight, and need to both physically and mentally prepare for this. Working from home for almost a year now has been one of the greatest gifts I've ever received, and despite the side effects (a global health pandemic first and foremost and weight gain a distant but still meaningful second), it really has been wonderful to be here so much and get so much done in my house.

 

Monday, March 8th

Next week marks one year since I started working from home, which as I've mentioned before really felt like the true beginning of all this. Covid-19 is so named, of course, because it was first discovered in 2019. It was only declared a global health emergency (a pandemic) on March 11th, 2019 though, and I didn't begin working from home full-time until March 18th. I mention all this to set the scene for posterity. A lot of people are beginning to share their posts from a year ago on social media, either through Timehop or through Facebook's Memories feature.

In two other tabs on my work computer (still taking up space on the dining room table), I have vaccination appointment websites up, which I visit now and then to click refresh vigorously with the hopes an appointment will become available. This is how the New York State looks now (other locations cropped out at the bottom).

Intriguing update as of 5:01 PM: I refreshed that site I screenshotted above, and the Javits Center location was suddenly available! I click through and see it's for the Johnson & Johnson vaccine. Grr. It's only one shot instead of two, but I'd heard some early lower numbers that suggested it wasn't as effective. I've subsequently heard it's as effective as the others in preventing illness bad enough to hospitalize or kill you, so I decided that okay, I'll just get it and not worry. But then I click through again and see the only appointment time they have is for 2:45 AM this Wednesday. As in two hours and forty-five minutes past midnight, as in the middle of the frickin' night. I decided to wait. I'm getting closer now though at last!

 

Sunday, March 7th

 

A year ago today was the last time I went out to eat at a restaurant. I still don't feel comfortable going to an indoor restaurant for a meal, and have no intention of doing so until after I get vaccinated. I qualify for the vaccination now due to health concerns, but have yet to find any openings for an appointment near me.

In home entertainment news, I've now watched all of WandaVision and the first two Marvel movies in chronological order: Captain America and Captain Marvel. My friend Michael (Hoff) thought it was funny that I was watching Captain Marvel before almost all others, but I decided to watch the movies in chronological order, as seems to be the prescribed method...a prescribed method anyhow. I likened this to being new to the Star Wars films and starting with Phantom Menace. I figure if nothing else, I'll be able to provide a unique perspective on the Marvel Universe timeline of movies.

I'm also still watching Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee on Netflix, the Animal Kingdom Josh Gad-narrated documentary on Disney+, re-watching Once Upon A Time and The Muppets (ABC) on Disney+, and just watched (finally, for the first time) Into The Woods on Disney+. Over on Amazon prime, I recently watched and enjoyed Knives Out and then last night I watched (and LOVED) Coming 2 America. What a fantastic sequel!

Yesterday I got to meet my great niece Adalyn Mae, born six weeks ago Friday. I was nervous seeing more family members again, only because I haven't had a haircut since October and I've put on weight this past year, but it went well. Besides my brother Rob, his wife Patricia, my niece Erin, and her newborn, I also got to see my sister Marilyn and her partner Annie, my nephew Brett, Patricia's mom Gloria, and Erin's husband Keith.

Today I got up early and drove over to Resorts World Casino in Queens. Yes, again. After my seventh 2021 casino trip last weekend, I was -185.86, but I'm happy to say I have won some of that back. After eight trips total, I am now down only 185.63. That's right. I won a whopping 23 cents today. Hey, listen: a win is a win!

 

 

Friday, March 5th

Forty-seventh weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Rick, Andy (from North Carolina), Heath, John (from his brother's basement in New Jersey), Tall Michael, Luxor (from work), Danny (almost always from work), Hoff, and me. Today was John's 50th Birthday, so we raised a glass and celebrated him with some happy energy once he joined the Zoom call.

 

 

Monday, March 1st

The pandemic has changed so much in all our lives, but I've realized more and more over this past year how much it's actually changed the hard-wiring in people's brains too. Several times over the past year including in conversations just this past week, friends have talked about the future as if we will always be living in a pandemic. I'm startled alert by these admissions each time, but it's so telling, really. Covid has made such an impact on people that they're unable to believe in the sunny weather just outside this temporary cloud cover.

Excerpts of a text conversation I (S) had with my friend (F) between Friday night after he got his second vaccination shot and today (some punctuation added):

S: How are you feeling?
F: Hi, I'm actually feeling fine, kinda waiting for the other shoe to drop.
S: Okay, I'm sure you're going to be fine.
F: Oddly enough, I still feel fine, maybe a bit sleepy but no side effects except the metallic taste again.
S: Okay, great! I don't think everyone experiences the side effects, and some who do have mild versions. Remember there's some time now (a week or two? more?) before you're fully protected, and even after that, you could in theory be a carrier of it without getting sick, so for instance, you could hang out with another vaccinated person and then see your parents and unknowingly pass on the virus to them the next time you're unmasked with them.
F: Oh, I'm still gonna be safe, I promise you that.

S: Cool. I think we will need to be patient a little longer, but what matters most is that if we take liberties with fellow vaccinated people that we continue to respect the great vulnerability of unvaccinated people.

F: That is wonderfully said!

S: Thank you. :)

S: Just checking in. Feeling okay?
F: Yeah, I feel fine. It's like a miracle. I feel great, no symptoms.

S: Awesome. :D :D :D

On Saturday, I read in bed (with too much phone time interspersed) for a couple hours, and then got up and made breakfast and began some cleanup projects. My "Monastic laundry" series has been on hold since November, coinciding with the unexpected craziness of living alone, but I reorganized my files and am ready to dive back into the series this week.

On Sunday, I read in bed again, then collected myself for what I hoped would be another good day. And it was, sort of. my friend and recent casino partner Heath texted me to say he was most likely going to Resorts World, something I was 50/50 on until I got his text. There was no way I'd let my day's plans go completely kaput though. I made sure to bring a huge bag of, well, bags to my local King Kullen supermarket for recycling, then drove to fairway in Westbury for such much needed shopping. Sadly, though the store was just as huge as it always was, it's no longer a Fairway, and is now called Food Bazaar Supermarket. Yuck.

So how did I do at the casino? Yeah, not so good. I brought $300 with me this time, but only put $100.05 into the first machine (five $20 bills and a 5-cent cash voucher from last week). I was actually up most of the two hours I was there, by as much as $70 at one point, but I was enjoying myself so much, I didn't stop there. As Heath was leaving (he got there before me), I was down $25 all of a sudden, but in the next 20 minutes, I managed to hit some more wins and get back up to just north of $130, which was $30 up on the day. Sadly, I found a Lock It Link (Diamonds edition) game I always enjoy and decided, what the hell. I'll just risk all my money and hope to hit something big. To that point, I did consciously choose to spend my money, so it really wasn't a hard loss in any way whatsoever.

I ended up leaving the casino with a cash voucher for 13 cents, so I lost 99.92 this time. That bested my loss from last week by three pennies, but brought my 2021 total to -185.86. That's not a bad record after seven casino trips total, but then again, this story will only darken--and quickly--at my current rate!

Today marks one year since I've been in Manhattan or attended a live performance of anything anywhere.

 

Friday, February 26th

A year ago today, I attended the matinee of Beetlejuice on Broadway, ate dinner by myself in an Irish pub in the area, and then attended the evening performance of Frozen on Broadway. From that point on through sometime this coming fall, my ability to attend any live performances on Broadway has been, well, frozen.

Forty-sixth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Andy (from North Carolina), Tall Michael, Lloyd, Hoff, and me. After everyone left, Hoff and I talked Disney+ content for another half hour or more by ourselves. I'm so excited to explore!

 

 

Thursday, February 25th

Today, for only the second time since I started working from home, I went into my office building, this time to collect a few personal belongings and some supplies I needed at home. It was, as I expected, very strange. I saw only two other people there and spoke to only one, Ralph in the maintenance department. Got there around 11:20 AM and left around 11:35, then headed to Visionworks in Huntington, where I had a 12 PM appointment with my friend Michael, aka Luxor.

You've no doubt noticed by this point that a few of us have nicknames, but those are usually the Michaels, of whom we have three in our group at the moment. Tall Michael, Hoff (his last name), and Luxor. None of them get to be just Michael, except when it's a one-on-one conversation, of course. People often ask me how Luxor got his name, and it's really quite simple: it was the main part of his AOL screen name when we met. Why Luxor? He used to work for glasses company Luxottica. He also loved the Luxor in Las Vegas.

Weird energy day because of my field trips out and about while on the clock at work, but I got a load of laundry done earlier and I get to put a ton of trash and recyclables out tonight, so all in all, it was a good day!

On TV this week, I watched Newsies The Musical, a few episodes on Disney+ as well about the Disney Imagineers and theme parks, and a few episodes of Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee on Netflix.

Andy is talking now about possibly coming home mid-March, so I may have to drive down there soon, not sure yet. Weird feelings abound being here by myself, but I don't want to put any of that on Andy right now, as he's stressed by being there now too, and is equally stressed about leaving his parents to come back home. I can't tell him what to feel, and I don't want him blaming either himself or me if anything happens to his mom once he comes back, so that's where we are. Life.

 

 

Monday, February 22nd

On Saturday afternoon, I repeated what has become a weekly ritual now: I drove over to Resorts World Casino in Queens. Once again, however, I lost money. It feels so wrong to lose two weeks in a row after winning four trips in a row, but that's gambling, of course, and I continue to be very happy with my new money management skills despite the losses. In the past, I would walk into a casino with up to $500 in my wallet, but I've whittled that down to $200 now, realizing that no day trip should ever cost me more than that anyway.

Side note: I realized yesterday that a trip to the city to see a Broadway show usually costs me about $170 ($20 Long Island Rail Road round-trip ticket, show ticket itself, and a $20 cocktail at intermission), and I didn't have that expense at all in the past year.

 

At one point yesterday, I was close to losing all $200 I brought with me to potentially lose (in the pursuit of winning), but I thankfully won back a good amount and left down only $99.95 total, bringing my 2021 gambling tally to -85.94 after six trips in all. All in all, I'm still doing really well!

 

That night I received a brand new Memory Foam Mattress Topper through Amazon, so my awful mattress is now hidden far enough below me each night to no longer hurt me.

Yesterday, Sunday, was a mix of the good and bad.

Good:
I started the day by making a pot of coffee and reading in bed for a while. Still on A Promised Land by Barack Obama, which is admittedly taking me a while, not because the writing isn't fantastic (it is), but simply, I think, because I'm so politicked out at this point. I started it on January 3rd, and I'm up to Chapter 13, a little over 300 pages in, so I'm closing in on the halfway mark in the very large book. Not bad, of course. I just need to make more time for it.

After a late breakfast around noon, I took note of my house and what I knew I was hoping to accomplish over the weekend, and soon set to work. It took me a good 20 minutes to get all our old paper bags together for recycling, which should tell you just how many of them we had. Andy is a pack rat, so he squirreled away paper bags from every convenience store visit he's made over the past decade or more and tucked them in all around our kitchen. You know, just in case paper to-go bags are banned and he needs to call upon this lifetime supply. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to still find more somewhere else, but for now, the two large grocery paper bags filled with smaller paper bags is a great accomplishment for itself, and will be a joy to put out on the curb this Thursday night.

After the bags were collected, I continued cleaning out our largest kitchen cupboard filled with things we should have thrown out or put elsewhere a long time ago. These are cleanup jobs I simply can't do when Andy's living here, because he'd stop me every five minutes to challenge my decision to throw something out. If you saw his home office, you'd know what I mean. Once I got the kitchen project finished for the day (it's only about 20% done as a whole at best), I relaxed to watch TV and settled in for another quiet evening home alone.

Bad:
Without doing any more than barely adjusting my glasses in the way bespectacled people everywhere do a hundred times a day, the left arm of my eyeglasses broke off, or came off from the center--still not sure. I was able to tape it back on neatly, but it's just not sitting neatly on my face, and either way, I knew it would need to be fixed. Luckily, I've got a guy for that. My friend Michael, aka Luxor aka Michael of John & Michael who I've mentioned here many times in the Zoom meetings, is a manager at a leading eye-wear company, so I texted him last night to let him know what happened. because of Covid, I need to make an appointment for a specific time so they can manage the number of customers there at any given time, but that works for me anyway, as I'd prefer to have a set time to tell my manager when I request a long lunch to get it taken care of.

I only need glasses for distance, so I wear them when driving or watching TV, but once again, my fellow glasses-wearing friends will understand how annoying it is not to have this little bit of otherwise reliable hardware available to you. Hope to get it fixed or a replacement pair ASAP this week.

Good:
Just as my glasses broke and I was scrambling to fix them and make an appointment with my friend Michael, another of my friends named Michael aka Hoff texted me. He'd heard from our friend Rick that I didn't have Disney +, so he shared his login and password with me. So, so, so sweet of him, and I was thrilled! There's so much content on there I wanted to see, and once I got my glasses squared away and figured out how to get the app through my Fire Stick, I watched the first episode of WandaVision, a show I've been hearing a lot about lately. It was thoroughly odd but sufficiently intriguing, so I look forward to seeing more.

Bad:
Stressed about my glasses, I stupidly went out for McDonald's around 8:30 PM. The salt and caffeine right before bed made for a terrible night's sleep. Up so many times. Grr. The mattress topper is still wonderful, at least. I'll watch my diet and get to sleep earlier tonight.

Here's where my thoughts fall today, though: I complain more than I ought to, and I appreciate far less than I should. When the pipes in my house make loud noises as they contract, I need to recall that owning a house at all is a dream come true. When I complain that I'm all alone for months and months, I should remember that many people wish they had a partner, even one who's temporarily living somewhere else to take care of his parents. When I get annoyed at how quiet it is here all the time, I must recall my friends with a household filled with kids who envy my peace and quiet. And I could go on and on and on, of course. I complain too much, and I must remember more often how wonderful my life is, even with a global health pandemic and a partner living so many states away.


Friday, February 19th

Forty-fifth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Andy (from North Carolina), Tall Michael, Luxor, Rich, Heath, Hoff, and me.

  

 

Thursday, February 18th

 

It's snowing. Again. We're due to get somewhere between four and eight inches total this time, but we had a solid hour just now of sleet and ice amidst the snow, so the shoveling will be a bit harder than the last one like this. On the positive side, I need the exercise, but it really does take a lot out of me, so I take lots of breaks. As I've joked a few times lately, Andy sure "picked" a good winter to live in the south.

Today is also, by the way, 11 months since this work-from-home adventure began for me. While the past year has felt like a lifetime for many of us at many different times, we've only lost less than a year of normalcy, and also gained many life lessons we didn't know how much we needed.

 

 

Tuesday, February 16th

Today is apparently Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras. This is what it's like to be alive on the Earth in a pandemic. You lose track of things like this, the Super Bowl, the World Series, and so many other events on the calendar. It's really, really weird.

I was thinking about this earlier this morning while I made coffee: the scariest part of the pandemic was in the first month, the most anxiety-producing stage of the pandemic was in months two through four, and everything since has just been really weird and really open-ended in a truly uncomfortable way. We have no idea how much longer it will last, and while the news of friends and family members getting vaccinated lifts us up, there are still many months of uncertainty and required patience we're starting to lose.

As in the beginning, some are dealing better than others, and those struggling the most are starting to make their anxiousness known in social media posts and private text messages alike. One friend texted me the following last night (edited only to remove telling details of who they are):

I'm desperate for human contact other than [my family members] and people at work], but it's so scary to be around anyone right now. When this is finally over, assuming it ever is, I hope I get to see you. I need to remember that my friends really do exist.

I gave the person an optimistic response I truly believe with all my heart:

It'll get exponentially better each new season this year. There's already a great sense of hope blowing around in the cold air outside.

Speaking of the cold air outside though, we have more snow arriving Thursday this week, which means more shoveling in my near future too. As Percy Bysshe Shelley ended his poem Ode to the West Wind, "O Wind/If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?"

 

Sunday, February 14th

Yesterday I went to Resorts World again, in what has quickly become a fun weekly activity for me, but sadly, my four-trip winning streak came to a close. I lost $139.96 before I left, but I did have cause for optimism regardless. First, because I was on the precipice of a $200 loss on my last machine, managing to win back over $60 in the final minutes, and second, because my total winning amount from my previous four tips was $153.97, so I'm still up $14.01. Five different casino trips averaging 2.5 to 3 hours a time and I'm up $14.01? Hell yeah that makes me happy!

Today is Valentine's Day, and while Andy and I barely celebrate it anymore, it's still our first Valentine's Day apart since we met, so that does sting a bit.

More poignantly, however, today is three months since Andy left our house for a two-week visit to his parents that has yet to end. I've never lived alone before for more than a week or so, which I'll admit by itself is no big deal. Adding in a global health pandemic in which I cannot have friends over too easily, certainly not unmasked, a winter filled with snowstorms requiring lots of shoveling, and my weight/health issues due to a terrible decrease in physical activity, and I'm not a very happy camper these days.

I've made it a point of doing a ton of housework, which as I mentioned on Friday serves two purposes: actual cleaning + determined exercise for my body. I'm fiercely committed to getting out for walks and jogs once the deep freeze has passed, but with temperatures in the 20s and 30s every day with snow and ice lining the sidewalks as well, I'd rather just wait at least another week. That surely sounds like a cop-out, but I see temps in the 40s beginning to arrive next week, so I promise both you and myself that I'll be getting out there again stat.

 

 

Friday, February 12th

I ended up spending most of Monday in a lethargic haze of blah. It's always quite frustrating when this happens, because I usually start my day lately with optimistic ideas about what I might get done around the house in between work for my day job. With Andy in North Carolina, I've been trying to stay active around the house both to keep myself from falling into laziness and also to boost my metabolism and increase the number of steps I take each day on my Fitbit.

By Tuesday morning, I was starting to feel better again, and a shave and a shower ahead of a Zoom call with coworkers that morning helped remind me what feeling normal is like. That day ended up being a hugely successful housecleaning day too. I got some house decorations in the mail, and found great places for them in my living room and dining room. I also did four loads of laundry and emptied the dishwasher, which I ran the night before. As to all those loads of laundry, the first two were clothes and towels, but the last two were seat cushions and pillows that I had never run through the wash before. I'm so happy with how much cleaner they look now! Will have to do that more often in the future!

Found out that afternoon that beginning this coming Monday, I might qualify for the vaccine myself, because of my double risk factors of high blood pressure and obesity. Terrible health issues I assure you I'm aware of and trying to rectify through better behavior, but they may at least mean I'll get the vaccine earlier than I'd originally guessed.

On Wednesday, more house cleanup work again, plus a trip to Costco on Wednesday night, in which I purchased a third case of red wine. I won't be finished with case #2 until late February or early March, but I wanted to take advantage of the room in my shopping cart to stock up.

A new poem came to me that day too, so I was grateful for that.

A Place Inside

As my eyes began their journey

from shut to open wide,

I scanned the world for clues

to help me by and by.

I found an acorn, crisp and clean,

beside a fallen leaf,

all within a sunbeam,

fresh soil underneath.

And there a bench behind a tree,

whose shade felt calm and cool,

in a park so far away:

a truly hidden jewel.

I found a place inside of me

while sitting in my dream,

space I came to often

where nothing was unseen.

A sacred well of fluid trust,

a vestige of what's true,

where what I know is all,

where who I am is you.

More snow (2.5 inches this time) fell Thursday in the early morning hours, so I had to go out and shovel that up. My car and a little bit of the driveway still has some, but a fair amount has melted away on its own since then, so I'm not worried about that. Andy's parents go their first vaccination done, so great news there. On Facebook, more and more people I know are reporting they got their first or first and second shots already, so the feel-good factor about the end of this shitstorm is increasing a bit for sure.

By Thursday afternoon, I was feeling down and lonely, and decided to confront Andy about his length of stay in North Carolina. I can deal with whatever he needs to do to take care of his mother, but his terrible communication skills means he doesn't tell me what he really thinks about coming back home again. After expressing this to him, he finally admitted that he doesn't want to have to leave his dad alone to take care of his mother. Simple enough statement, but that is basically him telling me he'll be there for months and months more until she finally dies. It's a God-awful disease she's got and my heart goes out to her. I'm just stuck here by myself in the mean time, and my need to wallow peaked yesterday for sure.

Today I had a Zoom call with my coworker/friend Alyssa, and am mostly taking it easy by choice, as I'm looking forward to a nice three-day weekend. Off Monday for Presidents Day, and planning to visit Resorts World again tomorrow.

Forty-fourth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Danny, Andy (from North Carolina), Heath, Hoff, Lloyd, and me.

 

 

Monday, February 8th

We got more snow yesterday, approximately 8 inches' worth, which brings us up to about two feet total in the last week. I spent the first half of the day just reading in bed (still on A Promised Land by President Barack Obama). It's close to 800 pages in length, and I'm somewhere north of 200 pages in, so going at an okay but slower than usual speed. Will try to finish it by late February or early March. I just get distracted so often lately by social media and my slot machine apps.

 

Speaking of slot machines, I am now at a glorious 4/4 for winning casino trips. $113.41, 36 cents, 19 cents, and $40.01. No, not a lot of money, I know, but all a sign my newfound strategy is working well. I hope to expand on it and figure out how to at least double my biggest profits, but for now, a win is a win, and is not a loss.

I spent yesterday afternoon cleaning up my bathroom and a little more of my house, because as I parted ways with my friend Heath at Resorts World on Saturday, I decided to invite him to watch the Super Bowl at my house. He's home alone most of the time these days, and I have been for months now, so I figured it would be nice to have some company. Around 4:30, I stopped my indoor cleaning and went outside to shovel my front stoop, walk, sidewalk, and driveway, making just enough room for him to park his car between my car and the street. Then I showered and did some dishes.

We stayed masked with the window open on a freezing cold night while watching the game, and while eating, I was 17 feet away in the next room. I probably haven't said this in a while, at least with this phrase, but this pandemic really sucks! When Heath arrived, I served up a line I'd thought of while doing dishes. "You're the first to arrive. [pause] No one else will be here until October." He happily got a big laugh out of that, but the darkness of the humor still troubled me inside.

 

Pretty slow at work today, which is good, because my mind and body are feeling kinda tired from all the shoveling and housecleaning yesterday.

 

Saturday, February 6th

Andy and I worked in tandem via speakerphone as we each got one of his parents an appointment for the vaccine on the same day next week just five minutes apart. Yes!

 

 

Friday, February 5th

Forty-third weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Rick, Tall Michael, Danny, John & Michael (from out on the boardwalk in Atlantic City), Hoff, Heath, Andy (from North Carolina), and me.

 

 

Wednesday, February 3rd

 

I woke up yesterday determined to not allow the work of the day to discourage me. I had a lot ahead of me, and the timing was important, so I made an early start. I shaved, showered, and clipped my fingernails, made a pot of coffee and then a pot of oatmeal.

Andy has always been the oatmeal maker in this household, and he makes it fresh from oats and hot water, four servings at a time. Following his recipe, I've done this three times so far this year and finally have it down pat. While the recipe itself is as simple as it gets, the amount of heat required (barely on simmer once the water boils and you pour in the oats) and the amount of stirring are key, as is the cleanup process afterward. Andy taught me to turn off the heat after 40 minutes--40 minutes after it comes to an initial boil--and then put the lid on and let it cook a little more as it settles.

Once that was done around 9:30, I took care of some more work, having already done some around 7:30, and then went out to shovel at 9:45. Immediately relieved the snow was not too heavy, I set out to get my front stoop, walk, and sidewalk done before my driveway, where the plow truck had left me two feet of snow 12 feet across to shovel away. We got about 14.5 inches' worth in all, according to reports from West Hempstead, one town over, and as I'm home alone here this winter, it was on me to get our property cleared up. I'm out of shape, so you better believe I took many breaks, sometimes even coming into the house and sitting down. I finished at 11:45, so two hours later. Not bad, to be quite honest. Not fun, but not bad. My car tires are still slightly snowed in, but I cleared off 95% of the snow from on top of and around my car.

Unfortunately, we had a little freezing rain and then even more snow yesterday afternoon, so there's a thick dusting of snow on my car at the moment. Might just be able to start the car and melt a lot of that off today, but either way, I'll need to pull the car up toward or into the street so I can clear away some more snow around my parking spot in the driveway.

I purposely ate better than usual all day yesterday because I figured my body was already getting such a great workout with all the shoveling, I may as well take advantage by not destroying myself any further. Oatmeal with strawberries and walnuts for breakfast, turkey in whole wheat wraps for lunch, and veggie patties for dinner. Finished the day with a glass of red wine.

I'm only slightly stiff today, and had to take an Aleve early this morning, but I'm good otherwise.

 

 

Monday, February 1st

 

Huge snowstorm clobbering us at the moment. It began snowing yesterday evening around 8 or 9 PM, and it's not expected to be done until tomorrow morning. As of 10:48 AM, I measured 7 inches of snow in the lowest area of snow on my stoop and north of 9 inches in the drift right outside my door. 

In pandemic news, Bloomberg had an article I shared on Facebook titled, "U.S. Hits Milestone in Pandemic With More Vaccinated Than Cases". I captioned my share with "Long way to go, but YAY!!!" The light at the end of the tunnel grows just a tiny bit brighter.

 

 

Friday, January 29th

 

Forty-second weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included John & Michael (from their room at Caesars in Atlantic City), Tall Michael, Lloyd, Heath, Hoff, Andy (from North Carolina), and me. I made it clear for the first time that I'm optimistic we'll have our Halloween Party this year. We still have a long way to go, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

 

 

Tuesday, January 26th 

I received some very sad news yesterday that my friend Carina passed away. We weren't close, but were friends on Facebook, had met briefly now and then, and exchanged messages online as well. She had also bought one of my books, The Angel's Guide to Taking Human Form. I can't help but wonder if she read the book, and if it helped her understand some of the many challenges ahead of her these past two years. I hope so. I picked it up last night and read through it with her eyes, hoping the many passages about Heaven comforted her in some way. Carina was only 56 years old, and has left behind her husband and two sons. They saw the end was coming, as she died from leukemia, but it had to have been no less agonizing to say goodbye, as surely this whole week will be. I lost my dad when I was 24 and my mom when I was 29, so I know some of the pain these boys, only in their young 20s, must be experiencing right now.

This weekend was also one year since my friend Fr. Mike Tesmacher died, and he was only 61. Both of them far too young to die! Thoughts yesterday about Carina and Mike led me to this reflection below.

So often in life, but especially surrounding a funeral mass, we hear the phrase, "We know not the day nor the hour", and yet we mostly think of this in terms of the day and not the hour. What do I mean by this? Well, we all wake up in the morning grateful to be alive, but more often than not, the sentiment of appreciation for the supreme value of this life we've been given is only treasured at the start and end of the day. How often do you see it's the top of the hour and think, "Well, I survived another hour"? Or, "Okay, God, will I live long enough to survive this hour now too?"

It's surely an unnecessarily morbid thought unless we're facing imminent death because of an accident or disease, and yet there's also something quite beautiful about simply pausing long enough throughout our day to say "thank you". I do this now and then, but certainly not as much as I should. "Thank you" takes all of two seconds at most to say, and it feels so good to say it too!

Carina, you lived a life of joy, love, and service. My thank you this hour is for you as well, for the gift of your presence on this earth, and all you so selflessly gave to it.

 

Sunday, January 24th

 

This was a mostly good weekend. Full, but not in a bad way. I didn't sleep well Friday night--and maybe Thursday night too--but last night wasn't too bad.

On Friday after the Zoom, I ordered from Door Dash again. So far, I've used the app to order White Castle (don't mock me!!!), Taco Bell, and Checker's, and on Friday I ordered from the Golden Reef Diner in Rockville Centre. A delicious bacon cheeseburger and fries this time, although I saved the fries, bacon, plus the lettuce and tomato for meals later in the weekend.

On Saturday I had two English muffins and some coffee for breakfast, and then drove out to Lake Ronkonkoma around 11. On December 19th, the day before I drove down to North Carolina most recently, I delivered Christmas presents to my brother Darren and my sister-in-law Marianne. My family is huge, so a couple years ago, we started what I refer to as the Sibling Exchange Program. This year, Andy and I had to buy a gift or gifts totaling approximately $200 to Darren and Marianne, and my brother Paul and sister-in-law Andrea had to do the same for Andy and me. Because I was quarantining when I first got back from North Carolina, yesterday was when I finally drove out to pick up my Christmas presents.

We chatted in their house for an hour or so, socially distant and me wearing my mask, and after I left, I stopped by nearby Jake's 58 Casino off the L.I.E. to gamble. The casinos these days have various requirements for spacing and airflow, as well as hand sanitizer to keep people safe, and in Jake's case, because the place is smaller than most casinos, they only allow 25% occupancy. This meant there weren't many machines open for me, but for whatever reasons, I did well on the ones I played. I left there after an hour and won $113.41.

Today I woke up around 8:30, made a pot of coffee, and read in bed for a while. I finally had a bite to eat and then around 11:30, decided to just brush my teeth and shower so I could head to Resorts World Casino in Queens. Got there just after 12 and stayed till just after 2. My game plan was simple: play minimum bet on all machines, look for Asian themed slots at first, and most importantly, have fun! While I was briefly down as much as $30, I was actually up most of the time, somewhere between $20 and $60, so by the time I was winding down, I knew I wasn't going to let myself leave with any losses.

My end profit? Exactly 36 cents--double chai. I was very happy, and as I just did the math in my head, happier still, because $113.41 plus .36 comes to $113.77. Both 13 and 7 are good luck numbers for me on their own, and 37 is THE good luck number of my life, so yay!

Once I got home today, I relaxed and watched The Two Popes for either the fourth or fifth time, and I'm happy to report it's amazing every time. Then I made oatmeal for the week, four days' worth, ran the dishwasher, filled the ice cube trays, cut some red onions for my salad this week, made myself a cocktail (Bacardi And Coke Zero), and sat down to type this all out. On my second rum and Coke now, the oatmeal is done, the dishwasher is in drying mode, and I'm off now to relax on my phone for a while. My guilty pleasure lately is (surprise, surprise) online slot games. Addicted much? I also love my Sudoku app, and play that every day too. Till next time!

 

 

Friday, January 22nd

 

I received a text at 8:15 AM from my sister-in-law Patricia, my brother Rob's wife.
      Erin is in labor!

Erin, their first born of three, who I mentioned here previously in June and September, was due to have her first baby in late January, but I'd forgotten when exactly. Erin didn't know whether she was having a boy or a girl either, because she wanted it to be a surprise. I had Erin on my mind quite a lot lately, and was keeping up with her social media posts for updates, but at 8:15 when the text came in, I was still waking up, so it was a great surprise.

The day went on, my thoughts about Erin came and went, and then at 3:20 PM, my phone lit up with another text from Patricia while I was doing some work.
      It's a girl!!!

I was so excited and happy, not just for Erin and her husband Keith, but for my brother and his wife and their other two kids too. I'd attended their wedding back in 1993 when they were both still in their 20s, watched their house and family grow over the years, and attended countless parties there too. After Erin was born in 1995, Luke came along next in 1997, and then Brett in 2001. Now Rob and Patricia are grandparents, and Luke and Brett are uncles. This wonderful new birth in our family will bring so much joy to so many, not least of all because she'll grow up with a cousin Timothy, my niece Shannon's baby boy who was born in June of 2020, and another little boy coming along this July, my niece Katie's first child, who I mentioned here recently.

One more text came in after the announcement of the new baby's birth and gender, a name, and it's such a beautiful one.
      Adalyn Mae

I'm so happy for Erin and everyone else too, but especially for Erin, who in her first social media post on Instagram, along with a picture of her with her baby, indicated how difficult the birth was: So today was hard and I still can't fully believe I did it but our baby girl was born 8lbs 6oz and healthy! Welcome to earth Adalyn Mae! "It sucks, you're gonna love it".

 

Forty-first weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Rick, Tall Michael, Andy (from North Carolina), John, Heath, Mike Hoff, and me. The vaccine came up this week, as more people have begun to receive it, though in this group only Rick's parents have gotten their first dose, and Tall Michael's first is this coming week. Rick recommended a book to me called Spirituality for Badasses. I hadn't mentioned this here before, but on January 3rd, the weekend I returned home from North Carolina, I began President Obama's newest book, A Promised Land. So I told Rick that when I finish that one, I might consider his suggestion, although I still have a tall stack of books awaiting my attention on the floor of my bedroom, as well as James Comey's newest book, Saving Justice, on my nightstand below President Obama's.


Monday, January 18th

Got a text from my niece Katie at 11:30 AM.
      Hi uncle Sean! Just wanted to let you and Andy know that.... it's a boy!!

Yay! Well, Emma will have to wait a little longer for a girl cousin, but for now, I'm so happy for Katie and her husband Rob. They recently moved into a new house too, so they've got so much excitement right now in their lives. In this horrible time of Covid--ten months today since I started working from home--it's so wonderful to see that love and life continue in so many wonderful ways!

 

 

Friday, January 15th

 

Fortieth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Rich, Tall Michael, Andy (from North Carolina), Lloyd, Danny, Mike Hoff, and me. Rich's cute dog Austin made an appearance as he has before, and this week's TV recommendation was Your Honor, starring Bryan Cranston. Lloyd said he wants to go to Montreal when this is all over, and a few of us told him how much we love Montreal, and would enjoy going back too. I once again recommended a trip to Yellowstone too.

 

 

Thursday, January 14th

I lost $400 last night. Not good. No bueno.

Did some more house cleaning today. Spring cleaning I never got around to in 2020.

 

 

Wednesday, January 13th

As I sit here today, I want to just capture this moment in time for posterity. I woke up and logged into work around 8:00 this morning, made a pot of coffee and took care of a few pending projects. Once I was caught up on work, personal email, and whatnot, I heated up some oatmeal and sat down to watch some of the news.

Today, the House of Representatives is handling some procedural votes and allowing speeches on both sides of the upcoming vote to impeach Donald Trump for an historic second time in less than a year. That historic vote is scheduled for this afternoon. History will surely judge Donald Trump and his enablers very, very badly, but I am beginning to realize history will likewise judge his many supporters in the general public badly too. How so many can just shrug off his words and actions is, thankfully, beyond my comprehension. It's terrible to imagine how much darkness must be stewing in this country right now. I firmly believe we are a good people living in a great nation, but at the moment, some very dark forces are spreading some truly poisonous lies, and ignorance has won too many recent battles.

I went out to check the mail a little while ago. I put a baseball cap on before I did, as I'm long overdue for a haircut and haven't shaved or showered in three days (making up for lost time after posting this, I assure you!). After coming back in, I squeezed out some hand sanitizer, something I'm so used to doing now, I don't even think about it. After that, I took an allergy pill ahead of some planned house cleaning today (in between paid work, of course), and then cleaned five of the six cloth face masks I have here at the moment.

Today is the end of my two weeks of needed quarantine time after my most recent trip to North Carolina, so I plan to celebrate by going out to Resorts World Casino for a little while this evening.

So between Covid concerns, political concerns, and my time here at home all by myself with Andy still in North Carolina since November 14th, my life is in a very strange place, and I just wanted to document that here briefly.

 

 

Sunday, January 10th

At 12:06 PM, my phone rang, and I saw it was my sister Laura calling. Everyone knows I hate talking on the phone, so I avoid it when I can, but I was free, so I picked it up.
     "Hi, Sean. How are you?"
     "Pretty good, thanks. How are you?"
     "I'm good. So, [my niece] Katie is here, and she wants to tell you something."
     "Oh, okay."
     "Hi Uncle Sean!"
     "Hey, Katie."
     "So I just wanted to tell you that I'm pregnant."

As you can imagine, there was a lot of joy and fun after she dropped that news on me, not least of all because I knew Katie turns 35 this year, so she only has so many more years if this was going to happen. No gender known yet, but I have a great niece who's already 11 now, and she's got two boy cousins already, my great nephews Harrison and Timothy, so I'm sure Emma is hoping for another girl cousin.

 

 

Saturday, January 9th

I was planning to write this on Thursday the 7th's entry, but as you can see, I only got one sentence out. I'm not sure what to say right now except that what happened is both shocking and yet not unexpected. There's a quote in The West Wing where Martin Sheen's character, President Bartlet, says, "Is it possible to be astonished and at the same time not surprised?" and that's how I feel right now. We're a country controlled by two very different political parties, but one of those, the Republican Party, has been hijacked by a radical agenda and multiple ideologies stewing in the poisonous waters of hatred and conspiracy. And yet, that isn't the worst part of all this. The worst part is how sinfully silent so many Republicans are in response. I've heard from people who will tell me one on one that they think Trump is terrible in one way or another, but they will never say so on their social media.

These people are literally choosing the path of least resistance over morality and character. They hear the most despicable, crazy things spewed online, and they do nothing. They just turn away and keep scrolling, thinking either that their voice will change nothing or that they don't want to lose a relationship over it. I for one am unable to understand this. How could a person's affection for you matter more than goodness itself, than morality itself, than truth itself? How can anyone be so apathetic to say nothing at all?

For a while there, I was saying some of these people were either sick in the head or sick in the soul or both, but today I realized it's impossible to be sick in the soul, and that all such divisiveness and hatefulness is a sickness in the human brain only, and nothing more. To that point, I'm not sure how to reach or teach such individuals. If they have trained themselves to be this way, it will take so much more than snap judgments or common sense to shake them awake. Instead, they need to see with their own eyes the damage their behavior causes. As a deeply flawed human being myself, I know that personal pain has taught me so much over the years. I wish no pain on anyone, but I fear that's the only way they'll wake up.

 

 

Friday, January 8th

Thirty-ninth weekly Zoom chat with friends. Participants this week included Heath, Hoff, Tall Michael, Andy, and me. Andy was on in North Carolina and I was on in New York. Understandably, we talked quite a lot about the coup de tat this week, but also discussed some sad news of people we knew who were sick from or died from the coronavirus. One of Heath's softball friends is gravely ill from it right now, and a second member of Mike Hoff's band has now died too.

 

 

Thursday, January 7th

Yesterday was was one of the darkest days in American history.

Saturday, January 2nd

On New Year's Day, I confronted Andy in one of the bedrooms at his parents' house and asked him if he was okay coming back to New York with me. As I mentally predicted, he hemmed and hawed once again, and I could tell he didn't want to leave yet. I drove back from North Carolina by myself on Saturday the 2nd, my third time doing the 10+ hour drive by myself in the past five weeks. I don't mind Andy wanting to stay there. I just hate his horrible communication skills.