Tag: relationships

I was there

Photo by Cody Board on Unsplash

My one day off winds down as I stare at my computer for a bit. Y. has gone off to bed, exhausted as she is, and D. is chatting with her friends a little too loud. She will of course come out and pretend she’s not sleepy, and then go to bed. I feel tired, and I know the snoring little ball of (short) fur on the couch will need walking in some eight hours and I should get to bed. But this called me. So I answered.

As I sat and stared, I remember the weekend. Back in Caracas, my family got together. A big part of my family. They all gathered at an aunt’s house where less pleasant memories finally died. My parents, my brother, and my sister-in-law, my two beautiful nephews whom I am yet to hold; they just turned two this past Friday. My one-hundred-and-one-year-old great-uncle. My cousin flew in from Mexico with her husband and their triplets, who are now tweens; when I first saw them in that house they were very active toddlers. Another cousin and her husband are there with their two daughters. The oldest, who was the ring bearer in my first wedding, is now a beautiful seventeen-year-old, and I tremble for her father. And of course, I see my parents, delighted as they are to have so many of their loved ones with them.

And I’m there. We’re there.

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The ‘rona diaries: random ramblings from the COVID room

Here’s my second bout in COVID land. Much milder, truly just felt like a cold, but came in one of the worst moments: the end of summer, when more people are going to the restaurant. I’m also bored outta my mind and miss the touch of my lady. So, is it worse than the first time? No. But is it, though? Yes. Yes, it is.

A surprise that came this time around was that I genuinely miss my job. I have fun there, and the money’s good (most of the time). And they have made me feel important. I don’t yet feel the king I was at Bahama Breeze, but it’s getting there.

And yet… But more on that some other day.

It’s how much I miss my wife that’s truly maddening. A couple of weeks ago she was the one sick, so I had to move to the living room. (She has now discovered yet another reason to hate the couch.) It sucks sleeping separately, sucks not being able to go out together, sucks not even being able to sit and talk without a mask. There it hit me: we are middle-aged people who have been together for five years (after three years long distance) and we still act like we’re twentysomethings in a first relationship. I feel so blessed to have that kind of relationship.

It is something that was previously absent in other relationships I had. That feeling of camaraderie, that we shared not only common tastes but common goals. We are so different in many things, but we learn to navigate those differences. Yes, we exasperate each other in certain things, but we never let that fester, let alone interfere in what we want.

And what we want has been up to some pretty difficult obstacles right now. It’s inflation, it’s the market, it’s less job opportunities. But here we are, making plans and decisions to avoid those obstacles, deal with them when they arrive.

In the mean time… COVId, get the f*** outta my house.

“Your turn”

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Photo by Sasha Freemind on Unsplash

Back in Venezuela, there were a number of epidemics that had people trembling like children fearing the Boogeyman. First it was dengue fever, which I’m pretty sure I caught during the first days of 2012; then it was chikungunya, which I avoided. Yellow fever wanted to make an appearance, as well as bird flu, but they remained a scare and nothing else. I was always careful, always took care of me and my own.

And then fucking COVID-19 came and hit in the most powerful country in the world, and here I am.

I have complained before about what I’ve seen as the entitlement of the average American, considering how they treat their servers (yes, I’m biased, but that doesn’t make it less true). Now I have more reason for resentment, I’m afraid. I don’t think I’ll suffer any fool any longer. And that’s what I’ve most hated about this last week: the dark place in my head into which I’ve crawled. It has made me see and feel things that I’d rather had stayed down.

I feel as if I have no friends. And it brings back feelings that I have been, in general, a terrible friend. A single friend from high school years, and it’s more because she sought me out. My best friend from my first job, who resents me still from all the wrong I put on her. My best friend of 30 years, living an ocean away. My few male friends, all in other countries. None of them ask for me, write to see how I am, and neither do I. I am a single rock islet in the vastness of the ocean. No seen connections to any other land mass. Thank God for my wife and step daughter. And even there I know I have to work on improvements.

This will pass, I’m sure. But I need help. I have plans. And I do not want to be serving idiots any more.