Further Notes on a Grim Anniversary

All you can do is try to survive, folks. Each of us have to define survival in our own way, but the fact of the matter is that when tragedy happens, all we can do is get back up in the morning and see how the narrative plays out. I have many days where I simply do not feel up to the fight, but I have to believe that any day represents an opportunity to make gains, do work, something, anything.

Most days I’m at the Sidewalk Café on the boulevard. It isn’t only about drinking and trying to get over this phobia about groups of people; for whatever reason, I can write drafts there. When I find such a place, I hang on like a gila monster. I’m there until it plays out like a fishing hole. I have no idea why I habituate this way; I blame it on my drunken uncle Jim, of happy memory. I loved him.

As you can imagine, by this time in my life I have many on the other side. I love them all, almost all. One I do not; some of you know why.

Anyway, her birthday is also the day of her death. I will never wrap my mind around that one.

Afterwards….you see, one of the reasons I’ve been stuck here has been torpor; I hate to admit that, but it’s true. Depression, despite the meds and everything else.

I find it deeply frustrating, but there’s the truth.

Afterwards….I don’t know. I consider moving back to the States and giving up the Canadian idea, just getting a teaching gig back here and saying the hell with it. Right now, if there was a gig I’d have to consider it.

Writing’s been a bright spot. Sometimes the drafts get maudlin and, well, grim, but what are we to do? These are grim times, after all, let’s be honest.

Tuesday for me will go like this: a couple of drinks at the Erwin, the last place Lisa and I stayed here together; then a stop at the nearby aforementioned Sidewalk for a meal and, well, drinks; finally back here for a nightcap. The Santa Monica Pier’s easily visible from the roof; we rode the Ferris wheel there, too. Just watching the wheel’s lights rips my guts out now, but I’m trying to develop thicker skin about that and other things.

I’m starting to feel my time here’s coming to a close. There may be more news on that subject here in a fairly short while. I love you all.


About johnwylam1957

I'm a poet and teacher now living in Toronto, Ontario, Canada.
This entry was posted in Life "After", On Lisa's Death: Trying to Survive the Unsurvivable, Poetry/Fiction, Writing in General. Bookmark the permalink.

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