after the pier
Last Thursday afternoon, maybe late morning, the idea came to me about a Blog post which would combine the affectionate name for liquor stores in Massachusetts with the serious issue of mental illness – though not especially presented in a serious manner. I typed it up, exchanged a few words, and left it all ready for Friday morning. Then, something of significance happened in my life early Thursday evening, when I was out on the Ocean Beach pier waiting for the name drawings for the open mic just a hundred yards away, and the “packies” post didn’t matter anymore. If you are a devoted follower of this Blog, you know it made its belated appearance yesterday.
Probably close to 5:45 last Thursday I ran into my former wife Susan on the OB pier. Completely, thoroughly, entirely unexpected, I had not heard from her, heard her voice even, for some 15 months. She doesn’t have anything to do with me. But, there she was. We spoke for maybe 10 minutes, it was mostly her speaking, and she walked off the pier, and let me just say it was pretty terrible for me. If I’d had any fantasy about how it might have been – friendly, human – I’d of been all wrong. That night I woke at 1:30 and lay in bed awake a long time, kind of watching myself back there on the pier, hearing it all again. The next morning, Friday, in place of “packies”, I posted this:
“A dragon came in the middle of the night and carried me away. — This morning I realized something had closed.”
My long-time internet friend Marie, an artist living in Scotland, left a comment which was basically a question mark. Huh? And the expressed hope for an explanation. Maybe this will work: From my Morning Pages – Saturday:
“In the middle of the night a dragon came and I flew on its back through the sky. On either side there were doors closing – some slamming shut, some closing quietly and softly. I had a clear sense of this in the morning. The “other side of the street”, where I have diligently and painstakingly parked myself since the day Susan told me she wanted a divorce, had become the other side of a big, wide, expansive meadow.”
Hope that clears it up, Marie.
Oh Buddy I’m so sorry for your loss. I know you’re going through a very tough time but with this piece of writing I finally see just how tough. You really are an amazing writer.
Thank you Marie.
It is hard for me to not think that your ex is not a kind person. True that I do not know her side of the situation, but I still would think that she could have handled this issue with grace and kindness instead of cold dismissal. I have been involved in a divorce and left my first husband but not without explanation and even a loan (which he never repaid) for a new furnace when the old one died after I left (along with our cat!).
Thanks for the comment, Lorene. I don’t really have much else to say about it. I would not have loved an ‘unkind’ person as much as I did her. Like I said in the post, I’m just over here on my side of the meadow now. It’s the only place for me.