Thoughts in my head this last hour ran something like this
I slipped a trick in there, didn't I dog? Your daddy wants to take you for a walk. I dunno why, the fucker never steps up to help care for you. I really don't want to take you there, I know you'd rather stay with yer mama...but who am I to deny him a visit.
While dropping the dog off at the house where I lived for 17 years, I have to look all around the garden, see what has survived in spite of his utter neglect, in spite of me abandoning it 3 years now. Hosta, so glorious. Perennial poppies scarlet and white. Clematis? Delphinium? Roses; Henry, Gertrude, Graham, and Evelyn who resorted to wild, now this wine red rambler...all alive. Incredible. And my heart soars every single time I look up into the branches of my beloved remind-me-of-home curl leaf mountain mahogany. It's in such rich soil here, grown so big, in full, glorious bloom. I comment on how big it's got. He just mumbles, ya, I'm gonna have to take it out, its in the utility lines. Take it out?! I'm horrified, and my heart hurts all of a sudden. Please don't take it out. I look at the trunk. The branches, the flowering, just cut around the lines, I plead on the deafest ears that ever existed on this green earth. This asshole doesn't deserve to be living in this house, could never deserve these surviving plants. I am sick to death of dealing with this person I wasted 17 years of my precious life on. I can no longer speak, must go now. Say good bye to dog. He really doesn't want to stay there...
I'm sick about the potential future of the beautiful tree. Why do I get so bent out of shape about trees, but couldn't care less about the entanglements of people in my life? I cry about this en route to the post office. Nobody gets me, I can't talk about this with anyone.
I vow to myself, that if he cuts the tree down he will never lay eyes on the dog again. I will keep him from him, no contact, count every right as mine to deny him. Why is this asshole so blatantly hurtful and mean? He was such a fucking jerk to not want to work on our marriage. To assume I would continue to live with him as he continued diluting the very essence of me. Why in the fuck did I ever agree to marry him? I pitied him, his heartbreak childhood, is that any reason to marry anyone. Fuck no.
I begin thinking, as I have numerous times thru the day. Thank you Mom...thank you for...dying? Really? Had she not, I would probably be living under a bridge, homeless. I've gone to deposit a check in the bank. It brings my balance to a whopping $357. The general public has no idea what 'paycheck to paycheck' truly means. I do. I could no more afford a $700-900 a month rental payment right now than I could pull a rabbit outta my hat.
So, yes, Mom, thank you for dying 8 years ago. You left me money enough to purchase a long held dream. Land, 20 acres of it, and a couple tiny cabins to go on it. One of which I am living in, rather simply, for 9 wonderful months now. It's all bought and paid for. So this meager fund in my bank account will pay my phone/internet bill, and gas money.
I spoke with my used-to-be neighbor, Marion, just before dropping the dog off. She is writing a novel. Living on a $20,000 writer's grant. I want a grant! I could stretch that kinda cash into 3 years!
Gotta go, get busy.