Hollow be my name

"I want to tell you that I love you,
But does it really matter?"

-- Chloe Dancer, Mother Love Bone


Late last night, I finished the pumpkins. It took us three days to get two pumpkins gutted and carved, and technically we're not done yet because we haven't roasted the feast of the innards, but those damn jack-o-lanterns were at least ready in time for our own little neighborhood soiree.


After the carving, I thought I would have a relatively stress-free day today. I had the day off to go to Grandpap's funeral, a quickie ceremony at the funeral home and trek over to the cemetery, and I thought I had all my ducks in a row.

BOY, WAS I FUCKING WRONG.

The day started with Joe refusing to drop Jacob off to me directly. I finally got the baby from day care and headed over the funeral home, and then the ceremony started late. I got to see my cousins who I haven't seen in years, and when we got to the cemetery, I saw just how long it had been: 1995. That was the year of death marked on Grandma's half of the headstone. Her funeral was the last time....

Oh, the guilt. I've been back in Pittsburgh for two years.

Tom had been avoiding me since Tuesday morning, and I guessed it had something to do with an aversion to attending funeral-related regale. Then I found out he was headed to the hospital this afternoon. "I sent you an email," he texted me. I had an afternoon full of family crap and no access to email.

And when I finally detoured to my house to check, I discovered his email was a .... clear cry for a break-up. Dumped, via email. It's not you, it's me. It's the kids. It's the cancer.

But I had to go grocery shopping and get the kids together for dinner and trick-or-treating and as much as I wanted to scrap it all and go kick Tom's ass, I restrained myself, he was still at work, and we made the rounds for Halloween, took my time, met new neighbors and BSed with those I have gotten to know.


I really enjoyed having an hour with my kids like that. I thought there were only about 20 houses in my neighborhood, but I found upon further inspection there are actually probably closer to 30, some tucked away, and it made me love it here even more. You can get lost in this little alcove.

There wasn't a huge turnout of trick-or-treaters. I know there are more kids here than tonight unveiled, but I heard most went up to the nearby "community" with the "golf course" directly behind us, up the hill. To visit the rich folks giving out full-size candy bars. The same folks responsible for all the Titleists embedded in my precious weed-ridden yard.

We were not so ambitious but got a lot of loot nonetheless.


I thought long and hard on that loop around the neighborhood, about Tom's email ("I'm not sure if I'm really ready") and all the health news he has been dealing with lately, and his kids are having such a hard time with everything, and I tried my best not to be selfish when I emailed him back, saying pretty much, I'm pissed, just go then....

I'll wash my hands of this if I have to, I have my kids and my finances to worry about... and though there's plenty of my worry to go around, it won't go where it's not accepted. I just can't spread myself that far.

I know it's a lot for him. It's a lot for me, too. But then he called tonight and rescinded his suggestion of not being ready, said he needed me to help get him through this.

And I'm totally a mess now.

Not because he is sick, but because I don't know when he'll push us away again.