Found out yesterday morning that BD (my grandfather) received a terminal diagnosis. He has bone cancer pretty much everywhere: skull, ribs, spine, wrists, etc. It's the thing he's been waiting for for all of my adult life, it seems. Nevertheless, I'm sure he's scared and overwhelmed. Often, I've heard people say that they'd like to know how they were going to die, because then they could just go about their business. I have to think that actually discovering the mechanism of one's own death is much harder to take in than that. Kind of like reading the end of a book first because you think you can't stand to not know what happens and then losing your appetite for reading the rest of it once that's accomplished.

I'm in a tough situation regarding BD. We were quite close for several years. Then, last Spring, he asked my mom about my sexuality. I'd never volunteered the fact that I'm gay to him because he had such a hard time dealing with it when he discovered that my uncle is gay. I had a feeling he suspected, and had decided to tell the truth if he asked. I'd instructed my family that they didn't have to lie and could either opt to answer the question or direct him to me. I don't know what conversational events led to the question. Perhaps my mom made some reference to Wolf. Or perhaps he'd been waiting to ask. It doesn't matter. His response was less than sunny and our relationship has been in the toilet ever since. He's never made mention of it to me, but his phone calls ceased entirely for a while, and then moved on to:
"Do you still have a job?"
"Yes, BD."
"Are you ever going to pay me the rest of the money you owe me?"
"Yes, BD. I've paid you $1200 and owe you $800."
"Well, I'm not getting any younger."
"I know, BD. Nor am I."
"I don't know why you haven't paid me back in full yet."
"BD, you know I was laid off for more than a year total in over the past three years, and that I'm now working for half wages, remember? I'm doing my best."
"Well, all I know is that you owe me $800."

Have I mentioned that he's a millionaire? That I borrowed the money when I was turned down by Mutual of Omaha for Long Term Disability coverage, despite the fact that I was unable to walk or work and dealing with a raging bone infection when I borrowed $2,000 from him? That I've spent many times $800 going to take care of him at various points over the past decade? I'm not ducking the debt, but I do feel a bit harrassed.

Anyway, he's made it clear that he's not interested in me beyond money and whether or not I've shipped family tree information to my brother. It hurts my heart so much to not have the relationship we used to have. I want to reach out to him in this difficult time and I feel inhibited by fear that he'll use me as a dumping ground. I guess I'll write rather than call. I guess I'm a chicken.

But mostly, I'm really sad.

Copyright 2003 Seasmoke All Rights Reserved

Sunny and cold. A nice return to winter after the balmy rainfest that occupied the end of last week. Still, more than a foot of snow remains in my front yard. The unruly juvenile in the Pacific creates unique juxtapositions.

The building in which I work is approximately 100 years old, give or take a decade. The building faces the cove and--as so many buildings on our granite island must--takes the hill into account, such that what is ground level at the front of the building is basement at the rear. It's made of brick with large windows, most of which are the old-fashioned counterweighted kind. The windows in the rear section of the building appear to be updated models with metal frames. These have a small portion at the base that tilts to admit the breeze at sill-level; above glass runs to the ceiling. None of them have storm windows so the building is drafty. I am grateful for the drafts after years of working in hermetically sealed buildings; they always gave me the creeps.

Chuck works in a corner office at the rear of the top floor. It has metal-frame windows on the two exterior walls. Today, the views are delightfully disorienting. If you sit in the chair opposite his, there is one set of windows on your right and another directly in front of you. The hill rises sharply toward the rear and presents a 90% angle outside of the right window with a path cut out of the rock, parallel to the building, providing a level buffer of about 15 feet; a more gradual slope is evident through the other window. The right-hand view is nearly solid green with ivy. It covers the rock and has subsumed several large trees; the green cascades. Straight ahead, there is snow, little-to-no ivy, and an abundance of leafless shrubs and trees. To the casual eye, it seems as though Spring has sprung behind the building, while Winter maintains dominance on the side. When I noticed it, I felt dizzy, almost giddy. I confess that I ceased paying attention to the information Chuck was sharing with me and, instead, played games with my eyes and mind, juggling the disparate visual stimulation framed by the windows.

How hilarious is it that this description is written in such a stiff and self-conscious tone, even though the experience it describes is all about the right-brain?

Copyright 2003 Seasmoke All rights reserved