I’m substituting initials for most names, only to protect the innocent – even though they’re long past innocent!
Hel, hell-, hello…
Have I reached the party to whom I am speaking (snort, snort)?
A gracious good afternoon J.J.:
If this isn’t your email then I guess I will find out soon enough, but I left you a phone message too.
I’m just so tickled that I ran into B. today (who I couldn’t “place” immediately) and it would not have happened had I not been seeing J.L., my doctor since about a year after Jim died, on this a Saturday morning!
B. and a doctor…MY doctor…oh, my goodness, he’s done so well for himself! 🙂
Anyway, call me when you have a minute to set up a date…
I’m at the symphony this evening but home tomorrow afternoon and Monday as far as I know unless I go fall colour-hunting…
Mom often asks about you, to which I’ve only been able to reply, “As far as I know she (you) is okay!”
Please don’t prove me wrong.
Love (long disconnected),
I can’t decide on an email “signature” quote…
“Every society honours its live conformists and its dead troublemakers.”
“What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans, and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or the holy name of liberty and democracy?”
“Not peace at any price, but love at all costs. At all costs…Though my enemy slay me, I will die rather than hate him.”
–Richard Sheppard, former canon of St. Paul’s, London
“Goodness had nothing to do with it.”
“My dear, I don’t care what they do, so long as they don’t do it in the streets and frighten the horses.”
–Mrs. Patrick Campbell, British actress, circa 1910
“The world is divided into two kinds of people – people who divide the world into two kinds of people, and people who don’t, and that’s (George W. Bush’s) problem.”
J.J. is a thespian friend I met while my very best friend, Jim, was still alive. (He died in 1994 before today’s HIV medication “cocktails” were around.)
I haven’t seen J.J. for a number of years. Way back, while Jim was still quite healthy, she and I developed the outline of a play whose working title was “Moving Day”. (I’ve just gone searching for it and fear that I might have tossed it but – because it was just an outline – it would be easy enough to recreate.)
J.J. is one of those people, or she certainly was when we were last in touch, who personifies la joie de vivre.
When I was at the lowest point of my life, after Jim died and I was fighting a wicked AIDS-related condition of my own in 1994 and ’95, J.J. refused to believe I would not pull through. Frankly I thought she was being unsupportive, not believing what I thought I knew to be true (that my death was imminent), and yet here I am all these years later.
The closest she came to betraying her optimism was when she organized a fabulous party for my thirty-sixth birthday, so sure was I that I would not be alive to see my fortieth. Maybe she was just humouring me. (It was, by the way, a very pis’elegant party!)
Eleven years later I’m now optimistic enough to begin thinking three years ahead to my fiftieth.
I have caught up to J.J.’s sunny outlook and would very much welcome her input on that October 26, 2009 party!
And let’s get working on that play again, too…