A Quiet Moment

I fell out of bed at 1:30 this morning. My bed consisted of two air mattresses: one given to me by my cousin Dana, and one by the VA VALOR program in Davenport, Iowa. They both decided to take permanent dirt naps, sinking me toward the floor over 2 hours while I tried to sleep and finally rolling me off, so I drove to the nearest Wal-Mart and purchased a new one. By then I was too awake to go back to sleep, so I inflated and dressed it and have been watching it from the corner of my good eye. It is holding. When I finally do try it out I pray it holds. If it, too, fails to hold its air, I’ll sign up for the Y.

This 3^rd story apartment I live in is minimalistic. The studio so far only has the air mattress, what clothes I have hung up and a set of electronic drums in the closet/bathroom, and a glass desktop and leather swivel chair in the dining room/kitchen. The central room currently is only good for dancing, although the old hardwood floors creak terribly and so force me to slow dance with myself. While at Wal-Mart I bought one of everything just in case, so the cupboards are only waiting for shelf paper to be stocked with such meager items as a bachelor needs: cans of chili, boxes of mac and cheese, packets of ramen noodles and such. The fridge currently houses mostly drinks. I’ve got silverware, pots and pans, one plate, one bowl and a Tupperware container for the sugar I use in my coffee (brewed in the new Black and Decker coffee maker I picked up).  Then there’s that pesky shower caddy that doesn’t fit, so I stocked up on duct tape, too.

I moved here to Rock Island, Illinois two weeks ago from Aberdeen, Washington, where I lived for four short months. The circumstances of my stay in the Great Northwest will be for now a mystery to you until such time I care to share them. Let’s just say that the events I had hoped to come to fruition didn’t. So, with heavy heart I drove here (over 2,000 miles) and have set up camp. This is my ancestral home; there are relatives buried everywhere. My sweet Nana, Aunt June – all of 93 years old – lives across the Mississippi River in Davenport, Iowa. I’ve two cousins (Nana’s boys) here as well. I’m uber excited to build strong and lasting relationships with them.

At 58 years of age, this is the first time I will have ever lived alone. Time to focus on my writing. The much awaited sequel to OOBERS: Kalamazoo is a third of the way done and should be published by Labor Day. I’m also working on a novel involving a focused and dutiful golem determined to retrieve an old Jewish village’s treasure. There is also a sci-fi TV series cousin Dana and I wrote about space scrappers that we hope will be picked up by a network. So the table is set, awaiting the fruits of my labours. This is my job now and, like most, I will work 8-10 hours a day. The ‘office’ is quiet but for the steady drone of a box fan on the floor, and the mild weather is a temperate and ideal environment for creativity. I’ll deal with the summer heat when it arrives.

Today is my child Sandy/Andy’s birthday. To be honest, I’m still struggling with her/his transgenderism. There is for me much potential for acceptance and support, but in reality potential isn’t implementation. Andy knows I love him regardless of what he thinks and feels and believes; he also knows it is difficult to abandon the name and gender I’ve associated with her/him from birth. Today I gladly celebrate the anniversary of his arrival into the world 35 years ago. (an hour later) Just spent some quality time talking on the phone with Andy. There’s no way for me to describe the wonderful, fulfilling experience of being in the company of one of your children, sharing your undying love for each other with casual familiarity born from a lifetime of an incredible, uniquely precious and unbreakable connection.

And then, last but certainly not least I bring good tidings from the world of my beloved granddaughter Lulu, still undergoing radiation treatment but fighting it all like a true champ. AND she’s now a big sister, which only adds to the magic of her life!  Her new baby brother is Revin, and not only does he have all his fingers and toes, he’s already developing his own little attitude. There’s no doubt in my mind and heart than Lulu will kick this cancer’s ass, and that she, her older brother Kyler and younger brother Revin will have rich, full lives because of the special love they share.

Ok, now I’m so tired all I can think of is sliding into my closet for about a day and a half. After, though, let the Muse sing! I found a beautiful framed quote in a second-hand store yesterday and have it hanging on the wall by my work station. It says, “Make time for the quiet moments as God whispers and the world is loud”. Indeed!