Forever Is For Dreamers

We went to a funeral today for the mother of the husband of Jenny's best friend Amy.  It was a sweet ceremony.  The attendees sang "It Is Well With My Soul," a favorite protestant hymn of this atheist.  Penned in 1873 by a Chicago lawyer who first lost his wealth in the Great Chicago Fire, then his four year old son, then his four daughters on a ship that sank in the Atlantic.  He was inspired and wrote the lyrics as he neared the place the ship sank that took his girls' lives.  It puts things in perspective.  I may need to stop kvetching.  If only I had faith in something.

I may be wrong, but it felt entirely like Mark, Amy's husband, was utterly rude to me when we interacted. I suspect Jenny's lies to Amy have changed the way he feels about me. We had always been warm and friendly toward one another. 

Jenny went to the funeral without covering her head.  She is so brave.  I want that fortitude.  

Looked at some homes last night.  We liked three of the homes.  One, 3300 square feet on a green belt, and .83 acres, and built just 3 years ago, we discussed making an offer on.  I told Jenny, before we left to see it, if we
liked it we needed to offer now. I said it again last night after we got home. She wanted to sleep on it.  When I woke this morning the home was pending.  Sigh.  The second home, on Beacon is also fabulous.  It will get lots of offers over asking.  I wouldn't waste my time making an offer--we will see. The last is also quite lovely and comes with its own fallout shelter, green house, and brand new 1000 foot garage.  I suspect we will miss out on that one as well.  These other two are taking offers Tuesday. I suggested a strategy on making an offer on the second home that the realtor shot down out of hand. We have to make a change.  I may not know realty, but I do negotiate for a living. The hunt is getting old.

Even so, this morning we will go see 5 houses in 3 hours.  So many homes went on the market, and its so fucking hot, the odds may be improved this week.

Jenny is feeling well.  Got some new medicine to help her digestion--which costs almost 200 dollars a pill and which actually works--it has given her her appetite back.  She feels hungry for the first time in a year, which is a blessing.  

That said, she is still lying about el pinché.  I went to hook my phone up in her car, and her phone log popped up, showing that they talk every day.  It caused her some consternation when I mentioned it after she was being mean to me for no discernable reason the other evening, at least none I could pinpoint. I said, "You know I am nice to you all the time, despite the fact that you love someone else."  Her rejoinder, "You don't know what you are talking about.  You ended that relationship for me."  If you read that last sentence with a bitter tone, you were reading correctly.  I said, "And you don't talk to him every day?"  Not surprisingly, she lied and claimed no, and in fact hadn't spoken to him in days.  I then noted that the phone logs in the car showed she spoke to him everyday.  She went quiet.  It reminded me of the lyrics to a Kali Uchis song.  

Jenny is talking about beating this disease more frequently now.  She told me twice on Saturday that she believes this chemo is working, and spoke several times about living 20-30 more years, and even suggested that she could get well enough to cease chemotherapy, the only thing keeping the tumor at bay. I am so fucking heartbroken for her.  Meanwhile, I am on the sectional, a fan blowing on me, looking for homes with her with master bedrooms in which I will never sleep in while she is living.  This life.  




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