I didn’t expect it.

It’s like that saying, If it’s everyone’s job, and anybody can do it, then nobody does it.

That means it never happens.

So if it happens to everyone, at any time, then it always happens, and the ‘always’ is rendered down to never.

But I got the news that my dear dear friend Bonnie has an incurable disease.

Death has come up to walk beside me. It’s too soon. I want this to be not now.

So, as I move through my days, my days whose numbers are the same they were yesterday, one less only, I think about death.

Bonnie’s days are not the same they were last year. She knows it. I know it.

And that knowledge walks with me. The knowledge, the ineffable, walks beside me.

I have known death before. I have had friends die. But not like this. It was a intersection, a flash and gone.

What?! he is dead? you must be mistaken.

But no. And no. No mistake. Only a huge irrevocable one, And the end.

The end.

And no one was ready. Am I ready?

NO. I have too many things to do. I am not willing to let go.

What must Bonnie be thinking? I think she thought NO too.

I avoid death. We all do. Mostly.

Be careful! Do not cross the danger line. Don’t even get close to the danger line.

Wear a sweater. Drink water. Take your vitamins.

Lots of padding between the now and the end. Don’t sit too close to death. Don’t put yourself in the angel’s path.

As death walked with me, I thought of it. It was coming to stay. To stay as long as Bonnie was here. And then probably a bit longer. There is an afterwards.

Okay. Who is this? Cloaked and patient. Sitting at the table, ready to recieve hospitality. Tea would be nice.

Cloaked. I thought. A skeleton? the grim reaper?

no, Not rattley and bright. That’s not this one. This is misty and cloaked.

Man or woman? I regard the presence as it accompanies me. I look for the masculine, the feminine. It is neither. And yes, that is right because death is an angel and angels are neither male nor female.

I see death, that mist. That cloaking, obscuring mist.

Stay away from me! I have things to do! I have things on this earth I still want

I think of the church prayers. Put away the things of this earth and set your sight on heaven.

right, sure. But not yet.

Not really yet.

Except that I have a choice. Bonnie is coming to the end of earthly choices.

The misty angel is sending misty tendrils around her, and they will eventually surround and obscure her.

Gone. No peeking.

My church also has a very explicit understanding of heaven and the afterlife. At least, more explicit than some.

Pictures of all the people who are there already surround us in our homes and in church.

Look, Mary the mother of Jesus! Look, John the baptist, Jesus’s cousin!

And all the saints from America. And St. George the dragon slayer..And Xenia, the hardworking hod carrier. And my personal one, Elizabeth the martyr of Russia. All these people, like the guest list at a party already there when you are arriving fashionably late.

Things of heaven.

This misty angel walks with me. I am not ready for Bonnie to go. I can only wrap myself in the incontravertible fact that there is not a damn thing I can do about it. That every breath I take is a gift from God anyway, and any time he wants to not grant the next breath he can.

That’s not stopping me from praying for a miracle. And it is not stopping my angry tears against the coming loss of my friend.

I got nothing. I don’t know what I can offer her now. She’s always been the one to help me–the one with the bit of wisdom or the obscure reference book to help me out with a question.

I got nothing. I guess I’ll just do what I can, stumble around and hope that whatever i can give- phone calls, visits, whatever-is helpful to her.

Probably we are all stumbling and incompetent right about now.

Lord have mercy.

A friend invited me back to visit my former workplace.

THAT workplace.

I saw a lot of people there that remembered me and were glad to see me.

The only manager left from when I worked there (the rest had ‘gone’) said “It cost us a million and a half dollars after you left.”

I said “It’s too bad I couldn’t have gotten that million.”

“And,” he said, “It took four people to replace you.”

It was nice of him to say that. He didn’t have to. It was true. I knew it was going to cost them when I left. But that’s why I left–they weren’t listening to me about what needed to be done.

They had to find out the hard way.

But it was nice of him to tell me that. He didn’t gain anything by telling me.

Three years later, and I can walk the halls like a celebrity. A celebrity for being as good as I was. A good worker.

A celebrity because people remember me. And a celebrity because even the people who were hired to replace me heard so much about me that they are excited to meet me personally.

Makes me think about what a former friend said when I was sad that I had to quit:
“Don’t kid yourself. They forget about you as soon as the door shuts.”

Not me. ‘Cause I really am that good.

I have a picture in my head. If I were less sleep deprived, and my head hurt less, maybe i could make a pretty poem out of it.

But I am what I am now, so I just want to write it down before I forget.

Our brain, or consciousness is like a window pane.

People, as we encounter them, are moists masses that hit the glass. They hit the glass, and slide or fall off. They are  gone, but as the process repeats some pieces stick. They stick and form a pattern on the glass.

So, these residues acrue and form a shape. We look out the window, but even if there is nothing there, the shape of all the previous encounters is seen.

Even if a new person comes into view, they are still obscured by the residue of the previous encounters.

Through a glass darkly.

But how do we clean the glass? How do we clear off the residue?

Well, it’s five thirty and I”ve been awake since two. Or maybe midnight…It’s been a rather sleepless night.

Tomorrow, the workers are coming to work on our floors. They will be beautiful when it’s done, but for the moment, all the comfort is gone from the living room. Not a single upholstered item.

When I can’t sleep, which is happening more than it has in the past, I usually lay on the couch and watch TCM until I fall asleep. Turner Classic Movies has no commercials. When I am trying to sleep the commercials get in the way. TV stations have taken to turning the volume up on the ads, so they jerk you up out of restfulness. Even the non-commercial commercials on PBS are louder than the regular programming.

So, thank god for TCM. No commercials at all. Just the soothing voice of Robert Osborne and the old films.

But I am awake, with no TV and no couch. I had to go to the office and use the fold-out couch there. I was reading a book, which fills my mind more effectively than TV. But I finished the book. I am tired, and I know I will be further exhausted later today. But sleep is not coming.

I am thinking about pain and fear. These are the things that are keeping sleep away. Both are annoyingly subjective. And therefore dismissable.

But I don’t want to dismiss them. I want to find the path to better.

Dr. Laura says “I can’t cure normal.”  I guess it’s normal to feel pain when I am being disrespected and ..well…lied to..Is that what it’s called when the facts are twisted around to suit the one talking and never me?

Yeah, that hurts. ow.

And it’s normal to feel fear when I have to stand up for myself. Standing up for myself hasn’t worked out so well other times. But it’s normal to feel fear to stand up against people who have power over me.

It’s normal. Can’t cure normal. Dammit.

There are pain pills, but not for disrespect pain, I think.

There are not fear pills.

I feel so powerless. What can I do against the big everyone-else? just a whimpering little

stop it

Why bother? because all the big everyone elses are very loud and are very much in positions of power.

I am trying to remember other people who managed their own little stop it and it made a difference.

Rosa, what did you do? how scared were you when you didn’t get up out of your seat? I bet you didn’t sleep that night either.

One small stop it and afterwards half the town had to walk to work. For a long time.

I am trying to think of other people. The problem with people who speak truth to power is that they are often killed. Not a comforting thought.

But Rosa Parks died peacefully, and with great honor.

People say that a lot. “I don’t want to die on this hill” Meaning, pick your battles. Choose what is worth fighting for.

But what about the fights people pick with me?

I need reinforcements. There are long lists, different documents, many many that say “Respect is the policy. Fairness is required.”

They even have pictures and little examples of unfair and disrespectful things that are NOT TOLERATED.

I am trying to suspend my disbelief. Perhaps they do mean it. Perhaps there are reinforcements for my

stop it

I am not a person that takes no for an answer.

NO does not mean STOP. NO is just a quantity, or an attribute.

You’re telling me NO to something I think needs done? No for why?

No money? Okay, that’s a problem to solve. I need money.

No time? How do we find time?

No, that’s a bad idea? What’s a better idea then?

NO, just because you say so? How then can I avoid being around you so that I can go forward with what needs to be done?

It’s just a number, just another obstacle to be overcome.