Tuesday 25 August 2015
Sweet Grecy is gone. Saturday night she boarded a plane with her mother, and both were whisked off into the air. My precious daughter Samantha is with her cousin in Orange County. My house is empty. My presence does not weigh on it. I drift ghostlike from room to room, finding nothing but hollow caverns. Silence reigns. It will be two weeks before my joy returns. Two weeks that I must survive on my own.
This morning I turned on the TV, thinking maybe its noise would keep me company. It did not. I turned it off. Now I sit, forcing myself to write. I have taken my morning meds, so my mind is sufficiently fuzzy. The physical discomfort still exists, but with the meds, I simply do not care. It is not a great state of being. The problem grows. Last week I had an MRI/MRA of my brain to see if I suffered any undetected injury somewhere in my rough and rowdy past. I will see my friendly neurosurgeon on the 4th of next month for his evaluation.
I never tire of being with Sweet Grecy. I have no desire to get away, to be on my own. We are inseparable. She is the most complete person I have ever known, and the best teacher I have ever had. Through her I have learned love, kindness, and generosity. Somehow, getting past my insufferable selfishness and arrogance, she has taught me to become a decent human being.
Tears well up with thoughts of her. It is not aloneness, but her absence that brings them forth. The powerful love she gives fills my life to overflowing. It chases away my fears, and brings me into harmony with this world. I am fulfilled in every way. Without her I am cast into the depths of hell. How I survived before her, I do not know. My prayer is that I return the gifts she gives measure for measure. I could not live if it were otherwise.
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