Bern Baby Bern

           







Disco Inferno

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Jenny has decided that she would like a second dog, after seeing my sister's puppy.  I told her I wanted a Bernedoodle.  She phoned a close friend (who has this many close friends?) and we are getting one as a gift on June 6.  Her close friend will fly to Montana to pick it up and bring it to us, an 8 week old Bernedoodle 🐶 puppy. This is going to be a lot of work, and I am worried it will largely be me having to do the heavy lifting.  Not Jenny's fault, she is sick.  I worry about the juggle, but like everything else, we will figure it out. I love big dogs, haven't had one in years, and never imagined this might happen.  Believe it or not, I am overjoyed with a heavy dusting of trepidation.
Work is slow today. I finished negotiations and watched "Why Did You Kill Me" an amazing documentary about a murder that arose out of the gang problem that used to rule Riverside before the gang taskforce came in and more or less cleaned things up. I did live above a guy that looked like Tuco Salamanca from Breaking Bad in my Mission Grove Apt, complete with gold grill, but he was a sweetheart and never gave me any trouble.

Out in the yard for some cool Seattle sun and to water and check on my plants, and the biggest and mangiest rabbit I have ever seen came hopping along. I didn't go full MacGregor on it, nor did it cross my mind, although I did give it a stern lecture about making it into a pie if it fucked with my seedlings.

Jenny is sleeping.  I am in the wingback chair, feet up on the giant ottoman, looking at the open door and the dog perched on the corner of the sectional in full guard or what is widely known as the prebark position.  I love that he has a favorite perch, and he truly seems to think he is the protector of the family, or at least that corner of the sectional.
Tonight is parallel or tandem therapy, or whatever we are calling it.  It's interesting that Jenny has her cancer coach on these same days.  I peaked at the current memo, one of which she gives to her cancer coach each week The memo sets forth Jenny's vision or fantasy 3 years out. This week's  has major, if not wholesale, changes. When we most recently checked in, prior to today, Jenny envisioned we were co-parenting, which I think requires divorce.  Secondly, Eric el pinché motherfucker had finally figured things out re: his wife issues, and he and Jenny had a great relationship.  Today, she has me all the way down in California, she and Eric el pinché motherfucker have a wonderful relationship, and his wife doesn't merit mention. 

Why do I read the memos?  Because she keeps lying and saying to me and the couples therapist she doesn't know what she wants. She has known for a long time, and now that she has stable disease, is going for the whole enchilada.  I don't really need to look any more. It is liberating to have verifiable proof that she is lying to me, and also liberating writing these journal entries to remind myself that she has zero respect for me or the truth.  I am not crazy.
Perfume and incense bring joy to the heart, and the pleasantness of a friend springs from their heartfelt advice.

--Proverbs 27:9

Finally, if you are reading this, it means you are part of my circle of friends--people I value, trust, and depend upon.  I love and appreciate each and every one of you and the support you have shown me over these last few difficult months. Each day is an adventure (or misadventure), and each day presents challenges that I have to overcome.  Without each of you this daily grind would be insurmountable.  I value you for your patient listening, sage advice, the times you let out every thought in your head, and the times you held your tongue worrying about my feelings. Thank you so very much. 

Writing here allows me to not have to repeat the stories over and again.  Although I want my friends to know the rhythm of our life together (or the end of our life together, as fate would have it), it is hard to tell the same story over and again, and this journal serves to have me avoid ripping off the Band-Aid more times than I care to do. That said, please don't be strangers. I love talking to you folks as well, and will be forever and immeasurably grateful for your support.

Jenny has a huge support system herself, and friends supporting her (and us) every day.  My group of friends may pale in size, but what it lacks in numbers, it exceeds in depth.  






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