Wars and justice?
Feb. 22nd, 2005 04:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeanvieveApparently traveling to Denmark and Phoenix while one has pneumonia are not completely efficacious in acquiring health once more. Felt much better in that middle day when home, but now stuffed completely up in the sinuses again. I'd like to blame traveling in a car 18 hours each way with a sick girl, but in truth it may just be exhaustion that opened me up to a relapse. Bleah. Its justice of a sort, for not doing all that the doctor said. Blah blah rest, blah blah enough water.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way.”
War proved to be a number of minor skirmishes, a couple major battles, partial victories, one solitary retreat, and memories that make one smile as well as sigh. In retrospect, it may have been wiser to take Jean off to a hospital to deal with the chemical warfare her brain and body went under in trying to clear up her bronchitis. Though I also feel that her doctor ought to be shot for not evaluating the proscribed drugs with her current medications and offering warnings. A beer too far, and she plunged down into the suicidal. I have never seen her like this, and it made me ache with helplessness. I could drag her out of bed, off to the showers, force a little industry and energy. Hold a hand, rub a back, listen to sadness, but in the end the sadness was not real. I would make a poor counselor, I fear, for my lack of true understanding and patience with chemically induced thinking.
Which is probably why I don't deal with my brother any longer. I'm not as nice as everyone thinks I am. I've got limits that, once overstepped, take a near act of god to ease back again. They're just pretty far out there.
Ky and Eanor both had evil ex- present issues that led to discontent. Eanor I don't know well enough to do more than offer to beat the guy up, but Ky I thought was done with hers. Only to discover that she's just figured out that current father figure/lover isn't a forever thing which I could have told her at the beginning. But he was a good distraction for a while from the Aurora fuckwit.
And Rebekah's uncle died, one of her favorites that brought her much joy. That was a grief I could share, staying close and listening to stories as she wanted to tell them. I get death, I guess, better than craziness or emotional upheaval. Would that I could have done more, but she's a little too much like me in the self sufficiency category in emotions.
Alpha female again triggered everyone else. Too much estrogen in camp. But it was hard to escape at first. Nor could I escape completely, given the need to care for my charges in camp. But wandering with friends was good.
Shopping with Roak for instance, hysterically fun. The White Shirt Quest will go down in history as two stooges in search of a third. Or fifth? "Its down this row." "I don't think so." "Well, I do. Lets go. ...Oh. Its not." "I told you, down this next row. .....Oh. Its not here either." "How about one row back?" "Sure." "You think that's the one?" "Noooo idea anymore." A friend now for twelve years, the sort of instant recognition of friendship that can be so rare. Never any real flirting, never any intent for anything beyond a comfortable sort of arm in arm as needed to traverse the muddy fields. But someone I'm always glad to see.
Time with John - always a delight and pleasure, my dear. I'm sorry the antics of my roommates kept you at bay. I'm glad that it seems there is a corner turned in your life, so that you can once more come back to Colorado to hang out. Have new sushi places for you to try. Hope you're not in jail for strangling Ky on the trip back to LA.
Time with the crew, extended family, always important even though it seemed we were always working, always on the way somewhere important. Not enough time to merely sit and chew the fat in the fire, though for the time that there was I was too restless to sit in the circle.
And to Bertrand, in whom my restlessness found a sort of peace this weekend. It has shaken me a little to realize how many I have called friends over the years, and rightly so by both our estimations, I know so little about. For questions I have never asked, matters I have never delved into unless they are volunteered. I don't even recall when the Kansas Wind War was, the first night that you showed me I had a fondness for port and poetry by the fire. Over fifteen years, at least. And I think it was 1987 when we first met? Or didn't meet, but learned quickly to recognize one another in the small pond we swam in with warm smiles. How, in all those years, did we never sit down and talk about anything that mattered to either of us?
A child whose diapers we once changed was knighted. I feel I have lost years, unable to pinpoint whether I did anything of value in that time.
Perhaps that's my real resolution for 2005. I had thought it was merely to be happier than 2004, but maybe that's not enough. I should know people that I call friends and more. I should live less in my head and more out in the world. I should do foolish things, for the love of being alive. I should dance more. I should sing more often again. Make more music. Live in the now, along with the planning for the future. Carpe a few diems.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way.”
War proved to be a number of minor skirmishes, a couple major battles, partial victories, one solitary retreat, and memories that make one smile as well as sigh. In retrospect, it may have been wiser to take Jean off to a hospital to deal with the chemical warfare her brain and body went under in trying to clear up her bronchitis. Though I also feel that her doctor ought to be shot for not evaluating the proscribed drugs with her current medications and offering warnings. A beer too far, and she plunged down into the suicidal. I have never seen her like this, and it made me ache with helplessness. I could drag her out of bed, off to the showers, force a little industry and energy. Hold a hand, rub a back, listen to sadness, but in the end the sadness was not real. I would make a poor counselor, I fear, for my lack of true understanding and patience with chemically induced thinking.
Which is probably why I don't deal with my brother any longer. I'm not as nice as everyone thinks I am. I've got limits that, once overstepped, take a near act of god to ease back again. They're just pretty far out there.
Ky and Eanor both had evil ex- present issues that led to discontent. Eanor I don't know well enough to do more than offer to beat the guy up, but Ky I thought was done with hers. Only to discover that she's just figured out that current father figure/lover isn't a forever thing which I could have told her at the beginning. But he was a good distraction for a while from the Aurora fuckwit.
And Rebekah's uncle died, one of her favorites that brought her much joy. That was a grief I could share, staying close and listening to stories as she wanted to tell them. I get death, I guess, better than craziness or emotional upheaval. Would that I could have done more, but she's a little too much like me in the self sufficiency category in emotions.
Alpha female again triggered everyone else. Too much estrogen in camp. But it was hard to escape at first. Nor could I escape completely, given the need to care for my charges in camp. But wandering with friends was good.
Shopping with Roak for instance, hysterically fun. The White Shirt Quest will go down in history as two stooges in search of a third. Or fifth? "Its down this row." "I don't think so." "Well, I do. Lets go. ...Oh. Its not." "I told you, down this next row. .....Oh. Its not here either." "How about one row back?" "Sure." "You think that's the one?" "Noooo idea anymore." A friend now for twelve years, the sort of instant recognition of friendship that can be so rare. Never any real flirting, never any intent for anything beyond a comfortable sort of arm in arm as needed to traverse the muddy fields. But someone I'm always glad to see.
Time with John - always a delight and pleasure, my dear. I'm sorry the antics of my roommates kept you at bay. I'm glad that it seems there is a corner turned in your life, so that you can once more come back to Colorado to hang out. Have new sushi places for you to try. Hope you're not in jail for strangling Ky on the trip back to LA.
Time with the crew, extended family, always important even though it seemed we were always working, always on the way somewhere important. Not enough time to merely sit and chew the fat in the fire, though for the time that there was I was too restless to sit in the circle.
And to Bertrand, in whom my restlessness found a sort of peace this weekend. It has shaken me a little to realize how many I have called friends over the years, and rightly so by both our estimations, I know so little about. For questions I have never asked, matters I have never delved into unless they are volunteered. I don't even recall when the Kansas Wind War was, the first night that you showed me I had a fondness for port and poetry by the fire. Over fifteen years, at least. And I think it was 1987 when we first met? Or didn't meet, but learned quickly to recognize one another in the small pond we swam in with warm smiles. How, in all those years, did we never sit down and talk about anything that mattered to either of us?
A child whose diapers we once changed was knighted. I feel I have lost years, unable to pinpoint whether I did anything of value in that time.
Perhaps that's my real resolution for 2005. I had thought it was merely to be happier than 2004, but maybe that's not enough. I should know people that I call friends and more. I should live less in my head and more out in the world. I should do foolish things, for the love of being alive. I should dance more. I should sing more often again. Make more music. Live in the now, along with the planning for the future. Carpe a few diems.
