"Goodnight, Tammy"
You knocked and pushed the door open (I think you can see that I'm sitting on the green couch, when I sit with the light on). The door gets swollen and hard to shut when it is cold outside and overly hot in the apartment. It was a sweet thing, your father tends to think you are trying to stall, or that you are bothering me. You are the most fun person I know and it was good to say good night.
When I first saw you this morning, your Dad & you were bundling up to go sledding in Ft Tryon Park (with, what's that kid's name?) I was going downtown to drop off some art for your Mom's theater show.
I saw you a few hours later, I was coming back and you guys were all going out. (Seems like the only time we see each other!) You were going on a tour of Superbowl Blvd, and then I guess you guys went to Whole Foods.
Your father came back & struggled with getting the internet to work (he's easily stressed!) and you and I played for a while. I have bags of "stuff", I am a bit of a packrat, saving bits and pieces for us to play with. Found cardboard bits, discounted bolts of cloth, tupperware containers from restaurants. You unwrapped a purple velvet long piece and I found a sheer golden one. You are obsessed with things having powers, I declared sun and fire power, you said yours was a dark laser.
We were doing magic tricks, clumsily hiding folded up Post-Its between our fingers. I showed you a trick where I had one hiding in my mouth, and tried to show that I moved it from my hand into my mouth. You liked it a lot and wanted to show your dad; he was (overly) stressed and was trying to get you to eat dinner.
This last week was maybe the last time I walked you to the bus (he's just tired of paying). Had you stay home alone while he went out with Amber. As an "experiment". You watched TV ("What's the problem?")
You can handle it. (Even though when you first went out to meet Dagny & her Mom on the street, you panicked and buzzed to be let back up instead of just waiting. But you are cool with it. (I'm just sad to see you don't NEED me as much, and you are now being instructed to "pretend" I'm not home. Less time together will be sad for me.
Your Mom asked if I knew of any rooms in the hood which might be available. I wanted to say, this one. I want to be out by summer, maybe April. I'd volunteer to move in with her, (to see more of you, frankly) but I can't trust her . . . (although I do love her as a friend, dearly). She broke up with Phil and I wonder how she's doing-mental health wise. Seems okay & stable. I hope she stays that way.
The old man (Henri) down the hall, the one with the walker and the bad scoliosis, died last July. I just found out by asking another neighbor (Mar--/Mer--??).
I had a realization that L might be dead too. (He is, for all I know. We used to see him with his dog sometimes. And his car parked outside. But if his car isn't there . . . Is it bad to say I'm glad? That I've filled my life with words and worlds apart from him. And how much room that someone who is Bipolar takes up in your life. How much room he and your Mom took over from me that summer. Glad to have my own space in my head.)
This had been a perfect moment here, these past few years, I don't want it to end. I don't want your Dad to get married, because then I'll leave. And you'll be alone, more alone with them. Even worse when they have a kid. I want you to always be able to turn to me. Especially for pillow fights and making art.
I'm so glad you aren't a brat!!
You knocked and pushed the door open (I think you can see that I'm sitting on the green couch, when I sit with the light on). The door gets swollen and hard to shut when it is cold outside and overly hot in the apartment. It was a sweet thing, your father tends to think you are trying to stall, or that you are bothering me. You are the most fun person I know and it was good to say good night.
When I first saw you this morning, your Dad & you were bundling up to go sledding in Ft Tryon Park (with, what's that kid's name?) I was going downtown to drop off some art for your Mom's theater show.
I saw you a few hours later, I was coming back and you guys were all going out. (Seems like the only time we see each other!) You were going on a tour of Superbowl Blvd, and then I guess you guys went to Whole Foods.
Your father came back & struggled with getting the internet to work (he's easily stressed!) and you and I played for a while. I have bags of "stuff", I am a bit of a packrat, saving bits and pieces for us to play with. Found cardboard bits, discounted bolts of cloth, tupperware containers from restaurants. You unwrapped a purple velvet long piece and I found a sheer golden one. You are obsessed with things having powers, I declared sun and fire power, you said yours was a dark laser.
We were doing magic tricks, clumsily hiding folded up Post-Its between our fingers. I showed you a trick where I had one hiding in my mouth, and tried to show that I moved it from my hand into my mouth. You liked it a lot and wanted to show your dad; he was (overly) stressed and was trying to get you to eat dinner.
This last week was maybe the last time I walked you to the bus (he's just tired of paying). Had you stay home alone while he went out with Amber. As an "experiment". You watched TV ("What's the problem?")
You can handle it. (Even though when you first went out to meet Dagny & her Mom on the street, you panicked and buzzed to be let back up instead of just waiting. But you are cool with it. (I'm just sad to see you don't NEED me as much, and you are now being instructed to "pretend" I'm not home. Less time together will be sad for me.
Your Mom asked if I knew of any rooms in the hood which might be available. I wanted to say, this one. I want to be out by summer, maybe April. I'd volunteer to move in with her, (to see more of you, frankly) but I can't trust her . . . (although I do love her as a friend, dearly). She broke up with Phil and I wonder how she's doing-mental health wise. Seems okay & stable. I hope she stays that way.
The old man (Henri) down the hall, the one with the walker and the bad scoliosis, died last July. I just found out by asking another neighbor (Mar--/Mer--??).
I had a realization that L might be dead too. (He is, for all I know. We used to see him with his dog sometimes. And his car parked outside. But if his car isn't there . . . Is it bad to say I'm glad? That I've filled my life with words and worlds apart from him. And how much room that someone who is Bipolar takes up in your life. How much room he and your Mom took over from me that summer. Glad to have my own space in my head.)
This had been a perfect moment here, these past few years, I don't want it to end. I don't want your Dad to get married, because then I'll leave. And you'll be alone, more alone with them. Even worse when they have a kid. I want you to always be able to turn to me. Especially for pillow fights and making art.
I'm so glad you aren't a brat!!
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