Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Hello out there

I'm finally feeling better, dug into my savings and paid for botox injections to kill off the migraines and that plus a vicodin and a martini & there's a blissful-ish moment to think. For now. I barely made it through work, I reach a certain point where my whole body is buzzing and my head is a mile across, like right before you ge the flu, but I know it's the migraine trying to come back & it doesn't matter what I have in front of me, the outcome will not make sense. The night editor sent me home. People can see this in my face. Pinched and half focused, and a hundred years old. I drag myself to the curb and a cab. By some miracle I end up at home in bed but nothing helps until I assemble my arsenal.

Un-pain is my fantasy land.

The other day I saw a baby-- a man with a baby in a snuggly thing on his chest; I mean. But I saw the baby more than the man. Because the baby had that shock of fuzzy, staticky blond hair like an insubstantial halo. Like Jesse had as a baby. And I looked at the father, I was behind them, and it was in the subway station-- the father was in his mid twenties, with hair the same curly dark blond Jesse's would be. I'm telling you this because it's gotten to be a regular thing. Guys who look like Jesse. This was the first time that, like a dream, baby Jesse and adult Jesse were together and I thought, that would be life, my life. If we'd been that lucky. I wanted to tell this total stranger: be thankful. Get down on your knees and thank God you are alive in this crowded subway station with your sleepy baby on your chest. You have everything.

I hope he realizes it. I hope I can see my own everything before it's taken away again. I hope you see yours. Because that would make all this worthwhile.


  1. Seconded.

    And I have found that the trick to seeing your own everything is not to view it through the prism of those things that you do not have.

  2. Hugs. Glad you're feeling better, even if its somewhat.


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