I see the month of February is practically over, which is shocking to me since I feel like 2012 hasn’t really started yet. And yet it has. My self-improvement project continues, as I suspect it will for a long while.
I have not heard a peep out of my brother in Los Angeles. Even though I shortened it considerably, perhaps he is still reading the letter I mailed to him three days before his birthday. There is a lot in that letter to digest.
I did, on the other hand, have a really nice visit from my father. Our father, I suppose I should say in the spirit of brotherly unity, which is emerging as a theme, although that phrase – our father – does sound mighty Catholic. It was the end of January and my fever was evidently at full throttle because I woke up one night in the midst of the flu’s second assault to find my father, who has been dead for more than three years now, perched on my dresser wearing what appeared to be a wizard-ish outfit. I was shocked to see him, naturally, although he looked great. He reminded me, in a fatherly sort of way, that not only was his birthday coming up but so too was one of my nephew’s.
So the next afternoon I sent an e-mail to my brother (the father of my nephew). I haven’t spoken with this particular brother in nearly a year, so I felt a little intro was in order: Sorry I have not been in touch … And then I explained that I was quite ill but wanted to wish my nephew a happy fifth birthday. And my brother’s reply came back in less than 20 minutes and with such joviality that it occurred to me that perhaps lots of people just don’t communicate very much. I haven’t been in touch with this particular brother because I think he’s an asshole, and I assumed that his lack of communication meant the feeling was mutual. For so many years now I thought my brother was using his two children as an excuse to avoid conversations with me, but perhaps I have been wrong. Maybe he really is overwhelmed.
My sister – our sister – and her two daughters and her husband are coming out west this summer. This trip of hers is one of the things that got me amped up on the need to go see a therapist because earlier this year, when she mentioned that she was going to bring her family out this way, my immediate thought was that if we had a halfway normal family, my two brothers in California and I would all get together at some point with my sister and her family. We could maybe rent some rooms somewhere on the Oregon coast. Or maybe somewhere in Northern California. But, since we’re not really on speaking terms at the moment … you know. If that’s not a sure sign of a low-class family I don’t know what is.
Anyhow, on Valentine’s Day of all days I had a real estate agent come over to the house and have a look. Then we went down the road for coffee to “talk it over” and she told me, when I asked her point blank, that yes, she does believe that my house could be sold, and probably fairly easily and no, she does not believe I am trapped in this structure until the day I die or the day it burns to the ground, whichever comes first. When I asked her the question I used those scenarios, more or less, because, I’ve realized since, they’re exactly the scenarios I’ve been carrying around with me for a few years now. I slept so soundly that night I cannot quite describe it. So soundly, in fact, that the following morning I decided that I probably shouldn’t start the selling process without having a very clear idea of where I’m going next. Which of course I do not have. Not even remotely.
Finally (for now at least) I’ve been thinking a lot the past few weeks about God. I’m not really sure what I believe or don’t believe, and I’m not really sure that what I believe or not matters much. I do have a friend who I met through AA, and she and I do get to talking about God from time to time, and we’ve both run into the issue as if it were a wall, a very solid, concrete wall. The alcoholics talk a lot about God and the importance of God and getting right with God as part of the “recovery” process. And for now, for today and for at least a few more days, I think what I need to do and what many of us need to do is the exact opposite: Before we turn this that and the other over to God, we need to get on good, comfortable speaking terms with the demons.
