Dear Alan and Jerri,

Today I woke to sun and birds and rolled over, in peace and quiet, a moment of serenity, and fell asleep again until about 10:00. I am peaceful until I am officially “up” and I drag myself out of bed to face another day. I opened the door to find today’s The Times and a mailer tube, which I assumed was for Evan and then was surprised to find it was from you.

On one end, there was criss-crossed tape and adhered to it were 4 tiny insects that somewhere along the journey had hitched a ride. They were curled up, stuck, and immobile.

This is how I feel most days: I don’t know how to get going, to create a day when I am facing it.

Curled up, stuck, immobile.

Scared.

 

 

 

 

 

When I opened the tube, I first viewed the photo of Robert and myself. I was shocked to really see how old we had become, how much I have aged, the black spot on his face that was before or after his Moh’s surgery. (I think he may have a bruise from falling).

But we were both mobile, lines and sags and all. I always smile at cameras from a place of profound sadness: my soul knew that something was coming. As did Robert. He had been adamant about getting burial plots and last spring he wanted to write his obituary. He never got around to it. I seem to have inherited the job.

I fractalized the photo, it’s how I feel.

 

 

Then, I found this, wrapped around the photo of us. It was taken the time we went to The Mill Basin Deli for that super corned beef. 

Years ago…the usual napkins and straws in his shirt pocket, a shirt that was looking big on him then…subtle muscle loss even at that time. Taken how long ago? Maybe eight years?

He is standing, he is joyful, holding onto his new camera.

 

And then for the large photo, an actual Vivian Maier print! I am so blown away by this official connection between a moment in time in her life and my own hands holding it. Thank you! 

[I ADORE Vivian Maier’s photography. Alan and Jerri curated the Vivian Maier exhibit in Chicago]

[Had to unroll and lean things on it to keep it down, rephotograph and edit. It likely was taken in the 60s in Chicago.]

Vivian Maier was a strong, determined woman seeking the transitory moments of her days. I guess I see myself in her. Sadly, she died alone. I understand, I get it. I am teary. For her, for Robert, for myself, but I am ever grateful to Robert for bequeathing me his wonderful friends.

With thanks and love …

On a FaceTime phone call soon after I sent this (I have added some notes for your edification) I was able to hold up the photos and tell the story to Robert about his childhood friend and the photos that were sent. When he saw himself in the photo and connected to the memory, there was a glimmer of a smile.

The aide returned to fetch the iPad which would make its rounds.

I asked her name.

Felicia.

I thanked her for helping Robert. I told her that he was a teacher for forty-four years.

What did you teach?

Middle school science. (The words came to him quickly).

Felicia applauded him.

I told her he was an artist and held up his book.

She applauded again and said she would love to see it and would look for it in his room.

I said that he had three degrees in architecture.

She was amazed! Impressed! She made a big deal!

I showed her the photos that Alan and Jerri sent of us. I think she was shocked. I believe that in rehabs and nursing homes every patient should have a display of photos of when they were young. People Identify with that. They should know who the person was and is.

Just as she was about to turn off the iPad, she handed him a paper towel.

I saw him wipe his eyes.