Rumors of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated
But heartfelt apologies to all Cappuccino readers, regardless
First order of business: I miss you. I miss you a lot—far more than you miss me, in all likelihood. And I have three or possibly twenty million things to share with you. But I’ve hit a pretty sizable bump in the road, apart from my recent bout with pneumonia, which has made it impossible for me to keep up with my usual publishing schedule. My beautiful mother is in the final days of her earthly journey.
For this and several other reasons, most having to do with the fact that John and I still haven’t found a place to live in NYC or surrounding boroughs, I can’t seem to get my resume past the bots and in front of actual humans who might hire me, my recovery is both frustrating and arduous, and now this … well, you can imagine my state of mind.
This I will say: the greatest thing about not being twenty is knowing you’ve been through hideously dark experiences before and survived them.
But there has been so much loss. Too much. Italy in the spring is a sight to behold, and I’m not there to see it. June brings the sunflowers, fields of them, that fill my heart with all the exquisite tenderness of beauty, but I have only my memories to feast on. Our cats, worthless freeloaders though they were, are an ache that feels as though it will never stop hurting. My friends. My life. All this and more have been relegated to the past, and it’s a lot to deal with.
Now, my sweet darling mom will leave me, and we are never ready for that. It’s easy to intellectualize the impermanence of all things, but far more difficult to let go of someone you love. How does one come to terms with the fact that there are eight billion people on this planet, and not one of them is the mom you love?
So, Cappuccino is on a brief hiatus, but I will restart the creative engines as soon as I can. Some things are just too painful to write about when the wounds are fresh, and right now, as you might imagine, I am covered in fresh wounds.
Thank you for bearing with me. I yearn to reconnect with you and look forward to the many conversations we will have here on Cappuccino.
Love and lots of it,
Was out in the olive groves yesterday clearing the prunings from under the trees. Sun high and warm. The dazzle of spring greenery in every direction. If you don't mind, I'll just imagine you out there standing on the slopes with a view of a long, verdant valley spread out below, free of illness, relieved of grief, worries pushed far to the periphery, comforted by the flow of life, bug buzz and birdsong offering their music, the comings and goings of farmers keeping things Italian tidy. Your mother's there too and always will be, happy to hold your hand.
Stacey...thank you so much for letting us know. So sorry to hear what you're going thru! Know that I (and I'll be bold enough to speak here for others) and your many readers are thinking of you and wishing you peace.