Bubber hit town yesterday for a week's visit. My mother already has his days pretty well lined out. Today, for instance, she has an eye appointment. After that, she wants to shop for some pants. And we will celebrate my birthday 12 days early by eating supper out.
I am happy Bubber can help mother out. Between my car and me, I am not worth much to her. But I will save that story for another time.
Remember we talked about gullible? How we both fell for big lines? I believe that was so because we want so very much to trust others. Maybe our bullshit detectors lost a part somewhere. Whatever. We tend to believe the best and then discover we believed wrong.
The really stupid part of the whole situation -- the surprise. What? You are not what you say you are? Gee. We fall for the same tired line over and over. We possess the acuity. So what blocks the critical perception?
Other issues we figure out keenly. You, with your stats. Stats represent stability. Though they change, they remain the same, too.
With me, hmmm. Not sure. Something I do know, each time I am hoodwinked, I remove myself more from the world. Maybe that move protects me, an instinct thing. Which will dominate? Loneliness or self-preservation? Stay tuned.
You, your transplant forced the isolation. You died alone and you died with company. You had no real choice. I can see how your life became like a prison to the point you gambled for a few moments of happiness. Then the happiness, like a viper, turned on you. The actress made you bitter. I do not toss blame willy-nilly, just stating fact.
I knew from the time I met you the end approached. That knowledge did not prevent me from wishing you had lingered for my selfish reasons. Such pain, such unhappiness. You told me I was the fixer, but I could not fix this. Nor could anyone else.
But what do I know?
Later.
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