There are notes for two more long segments on my surgery and recovery, but I haven't had the energy to attack them yet. I hope I will finish them – not for your sake: it is entirely possible that the select company friends and strangers who read this blog are already tired of the topic – but for mine: that I can construct something of some length, made of fragments, envisioned while dazed in a hospital bed.
But right now, I'm (on the one hand) all right from the point of view of serious medical status, and (on the other) tired, groggy, queasy. Surprisingly disoriented, dizzy, out of it.
Sad dreams the past two days, about spending a great deal of energy moving into shabby, dark spaces in San Francisco, and another forgotten city: which might be seen as anxious previsions of my fading years when, not having quite overcome my career and financial errors, I am fading into the background, occupying the outward edge of livable spaces in cities that are increasingly crowded, expensive, and unable to help the new poor.
The reality, though there is much brightness and many kind thoughts in it, is perhaps creating some of this mood – I am currently missing my sister's memorial, which has, as my niece wanted it to, developed into a large, tearful/happy celebration involving relatives, neighbors, and at least two days of what seem to be pretty wonderful parties – there were a hundred and twenty expected yesterday at the house after the ceremony, on a hot day, in every room and out in the yard.
It is good to know that it's happening, and has gone so well... but it's tough that I couldn't attend, that I was in no condition to travel when it was required. All those people I remember with so much affection: and I can't help thinking there will never be a chance to see most of them again....
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