MEMORARE 11/1/08

i was thinking about you all day thursday, trudy.  i was thinking about how the story went that you hated the name gertrude, and how you were a perfect trudy all along, only no one bothered to call you that.

i was thinking about how to observe the 10th anniversary of your death here today, 1 november 2008, all saints day.  did you know that you are named after a german mystic, st. gertrude the great, and that you were the patron saint of souls in purgatory?  isn't that too rich?

then you left, and here i am alone since, "sitting here in limbo," as the song goes.

i was thinking how having no money really S**KS, but i love all these jobs, and i was wondering if you might possibly help me with the smoking cessation, too, 'cause you never did THAT.

rain is a-comin', mom.  pray for me, please.

maybe i'll go to a lake and feed the ducks for you.  like that time in '96 when i checked you out of the convalescent home, and we bought sandwiches, and you fed yours to the ducks.  you were very popular with them.  and for a very good reason.  if only you could have been a little kinder to yourself?

i know: i'll take your picture to one of the los dias de los muertos altars.

you comin"?

so i threw the i ching thursday, listening to willie nelson.and got 59, dispersion, about how only gentleness can dissolve the blockage when a man's vital energy is dammed up inside him, about how the dissolution is of divisive egotism, and about how i bring help with the strength of a horse.  

willie is singing "i'm running out of time," and "my broken heart belongs to me, my broken heart belongs to you,"  and i'm crying, i'm thinking "NO, not NOW!" with the running out of time thing,

and then i'm wondering "why didn't i ever just pull up a f*****g chair, and ask you to please bring the bottle out of its hiding place, and let's have a few together.

or better yet, after all the bottles i found and poured down the sink, why didn't i ever think to bring my own bottle to your table, and invite you to join me.

(boy, i must have pissed you off plenty, having this little 10 year old booze cop finding all your brilliant hiding places: my favorite was the hanging shoe sleeves inside the unused closet: you were pretty clever.)

so #59 has changing lines, and i was sitting there cringing, here comes the other shoe kind of thing, what horrible misfortune is 59 going to change into:

42.  uh-oh, i think that's DECREASE, here comes the knee-jerk reflex, always expecting the worst.

well, trudy, 42 is INCREASE.

we can accomplish something for the good of the world.

cue willie:"i've fallen on better days."

ya comin'?