So I went with tiffany, Luoi and Christi to the Opera last night. Traffic was bad, we barely made it. The opera was looong. the music was repetitive and ponderous. It was like watching an elephant walk in a circle for six hours. It was so pious and slow, it felt like sitting in church for one of Father Faranna’s sermons (God rest his soul). He was the pastor at one of my elementary schools and he would never write out his sermons ahead of time, so he would start with an idea and then meander slowly back to his usual riff about a “love affair with jesus christ.” He talked baout it every week for years, hardly varrying his words, for super long. sometimes the mass lasted two hours. anyway, the opera was like that. Luoi fell asleep multiple times. The music was good, it just needed some (a lot) of editting. there was also an excellent performance by a one-wonged angel, who sung excellent and danced around so it actually looked like she was levitating when she walked. anyway, I was going to give it pretty good marks, despite a very problematic scene with a leper, when Christi told me the opera was written in 1983. There’s no exceuse for something like that to have been written in 1983. So I left the opera, whishing I’d stayed by mom’s bedsde instead, but knowing that if I’d skipped it, I would have only heard about the great reviews it got and been sorry I missed it.
And I went home, because it didn’t get out until 11:30, and planned to return to my parents house in the morning. And the phone rang and it was my dad saying my mom was dead. Did I want to come right then? when should the body be moved? I told him not to blow out the candles and that I would come down in the morning and I didn’t know about anything else. Yesterday, I had been thinking I sould go and pick out some clothes or something to dress my mom in when she died, but I had that opera to get off to. You have to leave rediculously early to get to the City at 6:30 from here.
So I’m at my parents house. My dad called to say he missed mom’s car (which i borrowed to get to the opera) and could i please return it. He’s trudging around like a zombie and throwing things away. He blew out all the candles. Margie is gone and with her has departed all of the ensure, all of the diapers, babywipes, matresspads, latex gloves and every other piece of medical equipment we owned except for the wheel chair and the walker. Maybe the wheelchair, i dunno. It’s down the hall, next to the stair master. He called some people. Other numbers were lost in his insane cleanup. My dog has no dogfood. I don’t know what to do with all these candles. I wanted to just let them burn out, but my dad wants them gone and i don’t know what to do with them. I guess we’ll burn them at my home. It’s strange to relight them after she’s dead…. Nothing is going according to his plans. All of the wills and stuff were made with the assumption that she would outlive him.

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Charles Céleste Hutchins

Supercolliding since 2003

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