Or a grouper, but that sounds fishy.
Here I sit broken hearted, sighing as it were, with the wide awake soon to be Prozac'd cat Yankel mewling and voicing his discontent over the lack of treats that are available to him. Now he is snuffling like a porcine beastie looking for truffles. What a menagerie I have in just one cat.
I had awoken about 2:00 a.m. To find that Gonif cat had once again trapped himself inside the bathroom by closing the door with him inside the bathroom. He does this often and never signals that he is trapped or upset. He just patiently waits until someone, in this case me, opens the door for him. And as for Simcha Cat he is blissfully asleep in my bed, not once opening an eye to see what the 2:00 a.m. racket is all about. So that is the morning cat report.
I tried going back to bed, but that seemed a no go. I went back to bed only to have rushing thoughts. First it was about 2.0 and wanting to know when she will vacate my thoughts. I actually need to spend a few sessions of therapy on that. Next thought my great aunts, Martha Betty and Sally. Three of my great grandfather's daughters who never married and always lived together. I have lots of photos of them, mostly of the three of them on a cruise, dressed to the nines sitting at the captain's table. So I got up to look at these photos and thought how lovely they looked, how youthful, well in their nineties. They were three absolutely fabulous women in an era where women were expected to marry young and have children. In a sense I was one of their kids. Always pleading poverty that was far from the case, my mother would have the Aunties, for that is what we called them, would buy me my winter coat every Hanukkah. And after I outgrew the need for a new winter coat every year, they would still give me a small check, $10 a piece, that never found its way into my hands. Mind you when I as sixteen and basically had achieved my height of five foot, that was a nice bit of change I could have used. I was teaching guitar and had a purse with my stash in it and no matter where I kept it my mother would find it and I would be out $10-$20 at a time. So maybe it was good that my dad kept the monies from the checks and applied them to my education, although as it turned out I received a scholarship so the money went to books and Saturday nights out with friends after basketball games. But still to have your mother take money from you was a harsh wake up call to the bitterness of life. But, I digress.
The Aunties. Sally died in her ninetieth year, a victim of Alzheimer's. Next Betty passed away after her 105th birthday, and Martha, my dear, passed away at 105 as well. That seems like forever ago but this will be the third year I will light a Yahrzeit candle for her on the anniversary of her passing. I still have the electronic form of death notice in my inbox. Makes for jolly good reading. And after her death the family, such as it was, came apart at th seams. The rat bastard cousin, who had drawn up their will made sure that his children got the bulk of the estate (like hey really needed more money...look up Vesco Oil online sometime and you'll see what I mean). They were so cold hearted as to deny the children of a much beloved nephew who had passed away as much as a cent, which made their aunt furious, which resulted in an exchange of letters between all parties concerned and the ending of any contact with that rat bastard's family. I think they took advantage of a old woman and played her like a violin. I am grateful for what I received but they hid so many of her assets that it would have taken a boload of attorneys to straighten things out and that would only benefitted the lawyers.
In addition to making the end of a this time also brought to an end a relationship that Sophie and I had with the person now known as the Soul Sucker. I had asked her for a ride to the funeral of Aunt Martha in December and she refused telling me she wouldn't take her new car down to the Ferndale area. I was furious but my friend Phyllis (Pre-Percy) who at the time was enduring a case of Sam and Ella food poisoning, took me, God bless her. This lead to me avoiding the Soul Sucker for the seven days of shiva, which she kept pestering Sophie about, and when I finally got over my anger at th new car remark, I ate lunch with her and Sophie again, she left the lunch table in a huff, which is her new car, and proceeded to write Sophie and me off forever. Now I wasn't too unhappy with this turn of events but Sophie was dazed and confused. The Soul Sucker then made out like we were the worse people in the world and about two weeks after this she abruptly retired. No need to go into more details.
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