Down by the River

There is much I haven't shared with you over the past few weeks. Some of it makes me sound bitchy or wimpy. Some of it is silly. All of it is important to me.

Did you know there is a rare orchid that resembles a monkey? It is called Orchis Simia and it grows in the forests of Ecuador. It is known for its pungent odor, which some say is similar to that of feces.

(Thank you Sam Bailey for the share!)

I had another surgery last week. It was an unscheduled surgery. My left tissue expander sprung a leak and needed to be removed immediately. I was pretty calm about it. One of the surgical nurses recognized me from my April 24th surgery and said, "I remember you, you begged us all not to let another Kennedy die." And then she laughed. They all laughed. I thought I was going to save that line for my final, expander to implant surgery. Damn, I'm running out of material.

This time, as they strapped me onto the operating table I remarked, "I thought this room of pain was red?" (a reference to 50 Shades of Grey). Everyone but the (male) anesthesiologist laughed.

My doctor, whom I still love, informed me that in 35 years of practice, she'd never seen it happen. There was a small leak towards the bottom of my expander, directly over my heart. She jokingly asked if anyone I knew might have a voodoo doll intended for me. Nervously, I laughed.

When I got home I quickly emailed Jesse and Julie - the keepers of Mike, my giant voodude doll. I made Mike for Burning Man last year.  We were going to burn him along with the Man but he was so much fun dragging around that he survived and Jesse and Julie offered to take him home with them to Portland.

(thats a merkin he's wearing incase you were wondering)

The full story of Mike is an important one. If you'd like to read it, its called WHATS RIGHT WITH ME.

My deck is in full bloom. I am micromanaging the flowers and spying on the birds. Last week a crowd of children gathered for a birthday party. They hired a magician who, along with a bag of tricks, had a joke or two to tell. I heard one as I was walking by with Miss Lucy. It went like this...

Bobby's mother had three children. One's name was April. The others name was June. What was the third childs name?

No one guessed correctly. Not even me. Later, during drinks on the deck with my husband and Jay (aka Boris), I retold the joke. Jay got it immediately.

You know, don't you? You're all so clever that you, just like Jay, got it right away.

The other childs name is Bobby.

I found an injured chipmunk in our driveway, brought him inside and named him Chippy. I took care of him for almost a week before he died. I cried harder then a sane women should when Chippy died. I held him in my hands and he looked up at me with his sweet little brown eyes. He took two deep gasps of air and then he was gone. We had a private service for him. He is buried beneath a glorious Japanese maple tree.

Our cat-dog, Miss Phoebe, has learned a new trick. She waits until Centro's, the restaurant across the river, has a full dinner crowd on its outdoor deck and then she climbs our roof and waits for someone to spot her.  She'll cross the top of the roof line - back and forth, back and forth - crouch down, ears back, meowing "HELP ME, HELP ME" louder then you'd think a house cat could. It's an academy award winning performance, I'll give her that. Most animal loving patrons will stop eating and peer in worry. When she thinks she's got everyones attention, she's tip-toe her way back down to safety. Twice she's received a standing ovation. She has no front claws, so it's NOT a wise choice on her part but she insists on living on the edge.

For the past 10 years, I have been actively working on releasing the guilt of my sons death but clearly, there is still more work to be done. Part of the problem is that I don't want to let it go. I'm not sure why.  On the anniversary of his death I went to a local art supply store to purchase fabric dye. My plan is to dye my fathers t-shirts in a multitude of colors.V-neck, white fruit of the loom t-shirts were his favorite.  I have over 25 of them, each of them are priceless to me.

While I was there I ran into Mr. and Mrs. Smith. I have not seen them since my son's death. They owned a liquor store near our old apartment in Cos Cob, Connecticut. Their son George worked with them at the store. George and Kerry were the same age and they both went to Greenwich High School. George disappeared on July 5, 2005, while on his honeymoon in the Mediterranean on a cruise ship.

I don't know if the Smith's recognized me. I don't know if they know that I too lost a son. I wanted so badly to embrace them, cry with them, but there was something about the injured look in their eyes that told me to walk away. Still, it was a sad yet comforting reminder that I am not the only parent forever mourning their son.

It is almost my birthday. I miss my father. I love my deck. Polo starts this weekend. I love Polo. Jackson (grandson) is playing baseball. Mary (Jackson's mom) broke her foot. I want a puppy.

This morning, we spotted a blue whale floating down the river. A sign to me that it's going to be a glorious day.

XO, MonKEYme

There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening, that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique.    Martha Graham

A beautiful reminder from my dear friend Em at 35 Jupiter Drive.