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Phone Calls From Ghosts
Aug. 30th, 2010 07:30 amRTT off to 11th grade orientation this morning. School starts in another week. Summer sure went quickly, didn’t it? Last week the weather was well nigh autumnal. I actually found myself reaching for a jacket a couple of time in the evenings – ridiculous really, the temperature was only in the 60s, but I’ve been spoiled by all this lush heat. This weekend, the temps jagged back into the 80s. Still the goldenrod growing in thick masses by the roadside – last in an amazing seasonal procession of wildflowers – herald that winter is growing nigh.
This may have been the most beautiful summer I’ve ever seen. The loneliest, but the most beautiful.
I’ve been more content recently – probably because I finally copped to the wisdom of distracting myself. The basic issues remain the same: I’m a middle aged woman with practically no resources and a longing for home – never mind that I don’t know where home is. Still, the whole point of doing this was to make RTT happy, to give him a stable base from which to embark upon high school – and RTT is happy, amazingly happy. He had a great summer doing boy things – long days swimming at Second Dam, skateboarding, country fairs, pals, girls, parties. And I gave it to him. So at least I can congratulate myself on that account.
I have been thinking a lot about A and T recently. I’ll be walking along, throwing sticks for the dog, when all of a sudden one or the other of them will pop into my head with such vividness that I’m half-convinced if I turn around I’ll see them.
The way it generally works with me is that when I start thinking that way about someone that way, the phone rings and it’s that person on the other end of the line. But A went quietly crazy after his divorce and disappeared, at least from the lives of second-tier friends such as myself, and T’s been dead these fifteen years. It’s unlikely I’ll get a phone call from either one.
This may have been the most beautiful summer I’ve ever seen. The loneliest, but the most beautiful.
I’ve been more content recently – probably because I finally copped to the wisdom of distracting myself. The basic issues remain the same: I’m a middle aged woman with practically no resources and a longing for home – never mind that I don’t know where home is. Still, the whole point of doing this was to make RTT happy, to give him a stable base from which to embark upon high school – and RTT is happy, amazingly happy. He had a great summer doing boy things – long days swimming at Second Dam, skateboarding, country fairs, pals, girls, parties. And I gave it to him. So at least I can congratulate myself on that account.
I have been thinking a lot about A and T recently. I’ll be walking along, throwing sticks for the dog, when all of a sudden one or the other of them will pop into my head with such vividness that I’m half-convinced if I turn around I’ll see them.
The way it generally works with me is that when I start thinking that way about someone that way, the phone rings and it’s that person on the other end of the line. But A went quietly crazy after his divorce and disappeared, at least from the lives of second-tier friends such as myself, and T’s been dead these fifteen years. It’s unlikely I’ll get a phone call from either one.
