The guys I thought were handsome and charming thirty years ago still are but they are grey and that is shocking but only temporarily. It’s like we all went up a flight of stairs and then another flight and then here we are, our grey, surprised selves. I saw a few of them today at a funeral where everyone was prone to be nice anyway but a few did seem very glad to see me and I wanted to attribute that to my not being a decrepit mess, not that I indulge in such juvenile thinking as to compare myself to others or that I ever worry about what men think about me.
We are watching an episode of Alaska State Troopers that involves a call about a man attacking another man with a chainsaw. We decided to do this, along with having a pizza from Target and a salad from a bag, instead of going to the symphony which was featuring a German Requiem and a mezzo soprano from Korea. I don’t know, the requiem business just seemed too much, already being in an anticipatory mourning phase about our dog, Minnie, who right now is lying on the end of the quilt I brought down from upstairs to hide in.
Methodists do things really fast. Today’s funeral was like a text message of a ceremony. I was a Methodist for a while so this shouldn’t be a surprise. I was married once by a Methodist minister, the whole process happened in the time it takes to order and get a Quarter Pounder with Cheese, not that I’m criticizing. It’s just an observation. Still, in a funeral, I’d like a hair more lamenting.
A homeless man who had been sleeping on church steps downtown died today. I don’t know the exact circumstances but I believe this is no one’s fault. We sometimes wish it was someone’s fault. But people often die and there is no one to blame. I fear though that my Street Angel friends who spoke with this man earlier this week and brought him a hot meal and maybe a blanket or socks will feel that they should have done more. If they would listen I would say – your act of loving kindness gave his last time of earth a gentleness he probably hadn’t known for a long time. You softened his life, if only for a moment.
I bought basil and cilantro seeds today because, even though I am a terrible gardener, spring fills me with hope. I’m going to plant them in an egg carton and put them on the window sill and hope for the best.