It was labored. In hospice. It was the “death rattle”.
It was late. He’d been in hospice for a night.
I know now that he’d been in transit before he’d gotten there.
In transit between the energy that is this life and the energy that is the “afterlife”.
Whatever that means.
The other is Memorial Day. 30 years ago.
When my twin, Bobby, took his last breath.
It was devastating to my family.
I had been dreaming of it for years before.
As kids, I kept a dream journal and I liked to regale my family of my dreams as they happened.
My brother always chastised me for it.
He said when I started a sentence with “in my dream”…..
People lost interest. He lost interest.
How apt though.
My dreams were mostly about him leaving this existence.
There are more that I can’t place the date.
My aunt Sally. My mom’s older sister. When she died, before we were told, I had a dream that she came to me. She said goodbye and that she had to make more stops before she left.
I remember waking up that day and wanting to hug my mom. Her little sister.
I recently lost Samantha, my best friend, my best cat.
She was in pain for a couple weeks, those who love pets know how painful that is to watch.
When she was healthy she would greet me at the door to my apartment. She’d throw herself on the ground after I’d greet her. Exposing her tummy for me to kiss. Anyone who knows cats knows that’s the ultimate trust.
I come home and expect to find her at the door but there’s nothing.
I’ve been having hot flashes non stop lately. I haven’t slept a full night in months. One moment I feel fine, the next it’s like my bones are radiators in a prewar walk up in NYC.
For those who don’t know what that means, radiators in those buildings have only two settings. Off when the outside temperature is below, I think, 50 degrees Fahrenheit. If below 50, say 49, radiators on full force as if it’s well below zero.
It’s like 101 degrees or above and you often have to open windows to let arctic air in for relief.
Some of my friends are having hot flashes and their medical professionals don’t listen or take what they’re saying seriously.
My NP, thankfully a woman around my age, heard me. Really heard me. She explained in detail and quickly, thank God because I was in the middle of a busy work day, exactly what was going on.
Apparently, I’m in peri menopause. It lasts until your final period, then resets if you have your period randomly again.
Symptoms, hot flashes, exaggerated emotions including rage, sadness, anxiety as well as tiredness, changes in skin, hair and fingernails and inability to lose weight regardless of dieting and exercise.
I have all of that although you wouldn’t know the emotional part as I’m a woman and am used to suppressing how I feel to appear capable. Those who know me would be able to tell by the constant smile on my face.
I remember doing that as a pre teen when I first started my period.
She immediately told me the various treatments available, hormone replacement therapy in the form of a patch, a pill if that’s not enough, and a low dose anti depressant.
She immediately called that into the pharmacy across the street and I was so excited to put that shit on right away.
Of course, my insurance doesn’t cover it, so I became silently enraged and anxious but I thanked the pharmacist as we do and stewed about it on my way back to the office.
My mission and I have to accept it, put a ticket in to my benefits team for a new prescription plan.
It will cost me and I’m fucking livid but there’s no other way.
I recently went on a company team building ice skating outing at the iconic Bryant Park in New York City.
It was a beautiful thought and was much needed since we’re all gearing up for our busy season.
I talked a good game to my co workers. I used to skate every weekend! I could even do pirouettes and arabesque’s on the ice!
It’s true, way back when.
Close to 40 years after, turns out I couldn’t. It wasn’t like “riding a bike” like was mentioned when we were swapping past winter sports stories.
I struggled to even walk in those skates seconds after lacing them up.
I held a brave face and went out on the rink with them and quite a few others.
The minute I hit the ice, fear was flowing through me.
I had to fight sheer panic in these rented shoes with deadly blades on the bottom of them.
I held onto the rail with both hands and slowly moved myself along.
Along the way, I met these two women who were speaking Spanish under duress. I could understand a few words.
One was clutching that rail with one hand while the other who had locked elbows with her friend encouraged her but was clearly as terrified as she struggled to stay upright.
After a lap around the rink, I decided I could take one hand off and balance as I glided forward.
They stopped and gave me an apologetic “you can go ahead of us” gesture.
They clearly thought I was a more confident skater then I was, but no. I definitely wasn’t.
They gestured a second time and both pressed themselves up against the rail.
I tapped the rail holder on the shoulder and offered my elbow.
She looked at her friend and shrugged “why not?”
I held the rail and we all linked arms.
We were to be three scared women on the ice but with unconditional support. Holding each other up.
We moved slowly , but just a bit faster than before and we actually enjoyed ourselves because we knew we probably wouldn’t fall.
And if we did one of us would be close enough to the rail to grip it and there was an unspoken understanding that we’d help each other up before some wild human animal ran over our fingers cutting them off with those aforementioned deadly blades.
Didn’t get your names but thank you my ice skating Queens! Thank you for being as afraid as I was, recognizing it, acknowledging it and taking my arm!