Love can make you weep, can make you run for cover...

My youngest son is in grave danger of not passing the eighth grade. He is a very bright young man. He doesn't like to do homework, sometimes he doesn't feel like doing classwork or taking notes. Studying is a word that does not exist in his vocabulary. He really likes to talk and socialize. He likes to somehow manage to get his hands on red bulls and soda and brings it to class. He has a wicked attention deficit with hyperactivity and red bull and soda do not mix well with it. He recently took a geography quiz and scored a 10 out of a hundred. Seriously. My mother of an addicts memory keeps whispering in my ear... this is using behavior.

I am in a relationship with a man that is becoming less and less fulfilling. He does not like to spend time with my family. He prefers me to be at his small apartment than to come to my large house. He does not care if we see each other on holidays. When I tell him this hurts my feelings he does not understand. On the other hand he is very kind to me and gentle. He knows how I take my coffee, and serves it to me. He always has my favorite water in the fridge. He encourages me to take better care of myself. I know that he does love me. When my son is with his father on alternate weekends, we spend most of our time together. It is really quite possible that I am as broken as I think I am, and therefore just completely incapable of knowing how to behave in a relationship.

For the first time in many years, my relationship with my brother is in a really good place. He is a sick man, diabetic, has lost 3 toes from his disease in the last few years. He is 43 years old. He can not work. There is still a really nasty ulcer on the bottom of his foot that will not heal. It is likely he will loose this foot, sooner, rather than later. He is living with a lovely woman who is 10 years his senior. She has many of her one demons to fight. She has 3 children. The youngest of these children started having babies at the age of 15. She has 5 children under the age of 13. Most of the baby daddy's are incarcerated. There are at least 2 or 3 of them. She has never been on drugs and does not drink. She is currently living in a shelter because she has no job and no money. She bares more than a striking resemblance to the "Octo-Mom". My brother and his girlfriend are in no position to help her financially. My mother often has to help him. His SS payments leave him with less than $80 extra a month after paying the rent. We had a real long heart to heart conversation a few weeks ago and for the first time in my life, I do believe that he loves me. Saturday afternoon I am treating him to a play. Jesus Christ Superstar. It has always been our favorite. We have seen it many, many times over the years. It will be a pleasant day.

One of my oldest and dearest friends is in the hospital as I write this, sitting vigil by her fathers bedside awaiting his transfer to a Hospice Center. They are on the Death Watch. Her mother is my mothers best friend. Her father is my mothers first cousin. His mother and father were married to the sister and brother of my mothers parents. That's how it went down for the Irish Catholic in Brooklyn back then. This time last year, I was the one sitting vigil by fathers bedside awaiting his eminent death. It is very surreal to not be the one in pain, to not be the one who is frightened and sad. It hurts me to see my friend hurting. I know full well how profoundly her life will be changed following the loss of her father. My heart breaks for these people who have always been a part of my life. I think my mother feels a certain sense of glee over this. I know that sounds awful, but she is not an awful person. It just that my mom has suffered a great deal of loss and suffering in her life and she has always felt, with some degree of truth to it, that no one could understand.

I had to have a minor gynecological surgical procedure done yesterday. The removal of some precancerous cells. Not a big deal, but the first time my physician attempted the procedure a few weeks ago it did not take and it had to be redone last night. It all went well, I am on the four month follow plan to make sure I remain cancer free. I sent the man I spoke of a few paragraphs ago, a quick text message last night to let him it was done, that it went well and she was able to get all of the cells successfully. He wrote back that he was glad to hear it, and wouldn't bother me again last night so I could rest. OK, it is 10:56 a.m. here in NY, and I am obviously well enough to be here, in my office, writing this. Am I am wrong to think it would have been nice if he had bothered to contact me this morning to make sure I was OK? Just sayin'...

The man that I am sure is my soul mate, whom I dated when I was young, is now married, to someone else and she is an alcoholic. He is not happy, but he is committed. He is hopeful she will one day stop. He gives her ultimatums. She promises that next Monday will be the day. Next Monday comes and goes and she simply can not put the bottle down. I know, and He knows, that she is an alcoholic. But I know and You know that this is a disease, not just weakness on her part. She is powerless over alcohol. He did not cause this, he can not control it and he can not cure it. He does not accept this. He does not work a program. He is becoming a sad and broken man. We speak or email almost daily. I have not seen him in over 13 years. When we speak it is as if I just saw him last night. We have that connection. He will never leave her and she will probably never stop drinking. She is a lucky woman. HE called me first thing this morning to see how I felt and to make sure everything went well with the procedure last night. I may have to stop communicating with him soon, although I will miss him. It is starting to hurt. Just a little.

So this is just me, Kel. Stopping in to say hello.