Wednesday, February 04, 2015

Home Again, Alone Again

Well, hello everyone. just came in from Peru late yesterday, Feb. 3. Boy, to hear my family talk it when I occasionally called from Peru they were dying for me to get here. And Chepa, the wife/ex-wife, met me at the airport dressed to the nines. Brought my grandbaby Taylor Rain with her. Treated me like a king, insisting that she wanted to stop at the liquor store because I should have a bottle of wine. So we did. And later in the day Madeleina and Italo, with Taylor Rain in tow, came over and while I'd cooked some chicken breasts--sliced open, seared, garlicked with a bit of olive oil, cracked black pepper and coarse sea salt then baked--and made good Jasmine rice, to be had with salads--Taylor Rain insisted on pizza. So Italo and Madeleina went out for pizza and they all ate some of each while we watch the fabulous The Whole Nine Yards--a small but well made comedy. Italo and I laughed through it while Taylor Rain and Madeleina slept.
    Then this morning: Madeleina still has all of her stuff at Chepa's and Italo's, so she woke me at 5 AM to tell me I had to take her to Italo's to get showered. As she got out she let me know she'd made plans for after school and not to bother picking her up. Okay, she's 17, I get it.
     This afternoon Marco came over to talk about dark nights of the soul and that was deep and fantastic. Then he split.
     Just now, at about 6:30, Chepa's Sierra came over to say hello with Italo and Taylor Rain, bringing with her some great new drawings. Three minutes later, after Italo found some natural cold remedy I have, they split. Then Madeleina called to say that, by the way, she won't be coming home tonight. So forget the shrimp dinner I was gonna make, cause I ain't gonna eat alone. And Chepa, who asked for more than 40 pounds of Peruvian foods, said she won't be coming over to get any of it either.
    And now I'm just shaking my head. What the heck? I guess the IDEA of Peter Gorman is a lot better than the reality of me. So I think I'd better improve myself. Cause I'd rather that no one care about me when I am gone, but definitely care about me when I'm here. I think it's part of the problem of being the anchor for a family or a business or anything else: Everybody really does love you, but their real concern is that the anchor is there, alive and functioning and in control. Once that's in place, not everybody needs anything more from that anchor. They've all seen me, I'm alive, they're happy. But they ain't over here playing darts, or eating dinner, darn it!

1 comment:

Bill Freimuth said...

I like both the idea and the reality of Mr. P Gorman. Sounds like you had some safe journeys. Welcome home!