On Mother's Day

It's Mother's Day again. I never really made a fuss over it, in the same way that any enforced gift-buying day could pass me by. Christine was uncomfortable around the day; her own mother died (of ovarian cancer) around this season, and it held those memories. Nonetheless, she'd get a hand-drawn card or letter from Tess, and tea and breakfast in bed from me. But generally, the day would leave me as it came - quietly and without fuss. Today is different. There's a big Christine-shaped gap in our lives, and those of you who truly knew her will understand that the chasm is hard to fill.

Today is different. I am off to the Davis Whole Earth Festival; a gathering of hippies at the university, to celebrate overpriced handmade jewellery, organic clothes and garish tie-dye. Normally I eschew such events, but today I have a Purpose, and will brave the heat, the barely-clad and the dawdlers to man the Mankind Project booth. I will hear music, read the same book I was reading two months ago and still won't finish. I will be amazed at the ability of people to brave sunburn and heat stroke. I will marvel over the fact that the event is touted as "No Waste", and rejoice whenever I see a child pick up someone else's discarded trash. And I will be saddened over loss.


On Friday I presented Tessie with a bottle of Mexican Coke. Not a great gift, you might feel, and you'd be correct. But for her it represented my whole ethos on gift-buying, that it comes from the heart. She said "It means more when you buy me things, because I know you really thought about me". I'm touched by this, and I'm pleased that she recognises the difference between the hastily-bought tchotchke and the true gift. I buy my presents few, and often. There's a ritual we both enjoy; I'll ask her to close her eyes, open her hands. Sometimes she's excited, sometimes not, but the joy of watching her guess is enough for me; the delight of seeing her face light up is my gift to myself.

I know, she knows, that the greatest gift I gave her was the 5,500 miles I travelled for her and Christine, the seven years I devoted to love and care, and the fight that I continue for her. She's the only woman in my life now, and that is Christine's gift to me today. It's also my gift to Christine, one I am still wrapping.


Happy Mother's Day. I miss you.

It has not been a great couple of weeks. A little over two weeks ago, the relationship I had with the most wonderful woman I have ever met ended. Then last Monday I lost my job.

This sucks. And the worst part is it really was my fault on all counts. Oh, I had bad luck and good intentions, but at the end of the day though I really tried all counts I could have done better on all counts. This is my fault, and I accept the fact that all of the things that have gone wrong in my life I could have done differently. It hurts knowing that.

So though I did begin looking for work again last week, I really spent most of it moping. No more. Time to get busy again. Time to get hopping. I know I'm just another unemployed, overweight, middle-aged guy looking for work in a time when the economy sucks. I realize lots of people won't want me just for those reasons. I know I need to do better. That I need to learn from my errors and move on.

I have some resources at my command, some money I'd been saving for retirement. I qualify for unemployment. I can make it for a while. I have to make it.

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