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Saturday, May. 03, 2003 / 12:32 p.m. ~Thank You, Really~ Thanks for all the kindness in the guestbook, it's such a nice change from being called an idiot! I really, really appreciate it, I just want you to know. I agonized over whether or not to tell my brother, finally wrote him an email letter and forwarded the emails my cousin wrote to me, the first one and the last one, along with the Word document that was the letter my Uncle wrote himself. The one in which he says he wants to get his walker and go shopping because there are things he needs at the store. I knew it was meds making him talk that way. So far, since yesterday's email, nothing from my brother. Not. One. Word. Am I surprised? In this instance, yes. A little, "Hey, thanks for the heads up", or something. Jesus, this is why he's the asshole he is, this is why I shut him out of my life. I write to tell him our Uncle died and I get nothing. Sure, sure, maybe he's out of town, maybe he didn't check his email.... not likely. I'm giving him time. For what, I don't know. To redeem himself perhaps. I dreamed of my Uncle. I don't know I saw his face, but he was asking me how to create his Will, to whom should he leave what, and I made sure not to seem greedy, because I've been through deaths, I've been through the arguments over a dead loved one's belongings, I won't do it again. I told him to leave everything to his granddaughter, and his daughter. I could call them, couldn't I? Right now. I've barely started on my coffee, but maybe I could just call to let them hear my voice, and to hear their voices? I get all nervous just imagining it. I haven't talked to my cousin since '85, nor her daughter, the one who's been writing to me. Any of them. Not since that trip in '85. My Uncle was the only one who cared enough to stay in touch with me, and he did. Guess what? I have a message from him on my CallWave, my Internet Answering Machine, it's from May 26, 2000, and I just listened to it. Wow. Eerie. Nice, but how strange that he'll never call again, we'll never talk again, I'll never write to him at the APO address again, no more Christmas cards. He's gone. I think I'll try to call, as soon as I finish this. I'll just tell my cousin, my second cousin, if she's there, how sorry I am, and tell her again to stay in touch. There are other things going on, there's a big music festival in town and I went last night, bought myself a three day pass, saw Sheryl Crow and Bob Dylan, got caught in an intense thunderstorm, got soaked, bought tie dye t-shirts, pulled off my wet shirt and put one on immediately, bought a poncho, stood for hours in the mud waiting for Dylan, felt like a sardine stuffed into a can of drunk, tall men, was horribly uncomfortable, Dylan was amazing, I'm exhausted. I'm going back in a bit to hear more music, maybe Tony Bennett, maybe Crosby, Stills and Nash, haven't decided. Tomorrow I want to see the Gipsy Kings. I'd like to hear a little from my brother. Anything, anything at all. Okay, I'm going to place a call to Italy now. We'll see how it goes, must be around dinner time there - I hope that's not bad. ********Addendum!!! I called, I talked to my cousin, her daughter (the one who's been sending me the emails - she sounds so great!), my aunt. It was SOOOOOOOO great to talk to them, like I have FAMILY!!! And they are alive, and they care for me, and I for them. I can't tell you how amazing it feels to connect with these people. I haven't had family for years and years, I only see it on TV or in movies, I have an asshole brother who's out of my life, and a sister-in-law who's an asshole by proxy, or proximity, or whatever, but nothing. And there, in Italy, are this wonderful old woman, her daughter, and her daughter's daughter. The latter live in Germany and the States, respectively, but they're THERE. My cousin told me I can visit in Germany if I like, or in the States when she's through teaching in Germany. They were so glad I called, and it was so great to hear their voices, to talk about my Uncle, to tell them I'm with them in spirit, I care, I'm so sorry, and they told me some details, about my aunt caring for him, washing him, him dying at home, them holding his hands. It's so sad, but I'm so glad their pain is over, the suffering is over, and we can be family, I never want to lose touch with them. They sounded so close on the phone, like they were next door. Wow. Okay, I'm going to get ready to head back downtown, to see more live music, to hear more music, to spend lots more money, and have fun. I'll wipe the tears away, the ones that started when I heard my cousin's voice, and heard the way she says my name, in Italian (when I saw her in '85, all I could think was that I wanted her in my life, like my sister, since my own sister had been killed so many years before)..... okay, I'm okay. This is all so okay, it's going to be good. He's gone, we'll move forward from here. Nothing else we can do. And I'm so glad my little second cousin has her mom there (Little? She's 26!, but I still see her as the little girl I met years ago). Cost of the War in Iraq
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