Such is life, imaginary or otherwise: a continuous parting of ways, a constant flux of approximation and distanciation, lines of fate intersecting at a point which is no-time, a theoretical crossroads fictitiously 'present,' an unstable ice floe forever drifting between was and will be. [Sol Luckman, Beginner's Luke]
Writing is hard. I am a sore noodle-body. So I’m pushing myself, making “a constant flux of approximation and distanciation” out of this time when I'm somewhat caught apart from My Life.
Oh, never and forever aren't for mortals, love. But we won't be parted till I know it's right that we part. [Ursula K. Le Guin, Lavinia]
The hardest part of this sickness is feeling cut-off. On the other hand, I feel that everything is progressing in a more natural fashion. There’s talk of Mum coming home, when some modification has been done, and in the ER yesterday, my oncologist came and put me on hospice.
I imagine it may sound odd that I’m glad of that, but I am. If I had been on it the past week I would NOT have had to BE home entirely alone. And I could have still seen Mum on the Palliative Care Unit.
Such things in Life don’t step to my tune, they just ease in, like you land a canoe.
I love you, Currie