~Friday~ I drove in to work again this morning, but instead of using a scratch-off parking pass, I parked in a two-hour zone near my building.
At a little after 8:30, I saw an update from one of my cousin’s daughter that her “Pépère” had died. That’s the French word for grandfather—and what I called mine as well—and her grandfather is my uncle whose 50th anniversary I went to over the Memorial Day weekend, and who ended up in Intensive Care the night before the celebration in such bad shape that they administered Last Rites to him. He had somewhat of a miraculous turnaround that weekend, and we were lucky to witness the renewal of his vows with my aunt.
When I talked to him back in January of this year, he’d been sick quite a while already, and he’d mentioned the occasion coming up in May and said that he desperately wanted to make it. As his granddaughter said in her status update referring to the occasion, “He made sure he was here for that.”
If it’s possible, I’m even more grateful now for being included in that loving and heartwarming weekend, and having seen my uncle one last time. R.I.P. now, Uncle Rene.
It’s been a rough month, and I’m going to reach back to February, with the death of my aunt, and just say that if death does indeed come in groups of three, I’m done for right now. We’ll see. As we all know, “Tomorrow is promised to no man.”
I had a great work day today, most of which was spent updating our Google website to contextualize its voice from “it’s coming” to “it’s here.”
I met Anna at Cup A Joe Mission Valley for lunch, where we schedule our first meeting to talk about what we might publish together in a collaboration we’re both looking forward to.
When I got back to the office, I took advantage of the recently re-done Hillsborough Street to take a parking spot on the street right in front of the entrance to our building, since they haven’t yet put the parking meter system in that I assume will eventually be there.
I met my friend Hugh for drinks and some appetizers at Boylan Bridge Brewpub, where—as is always the case—I enjoyed great conversation and great company. We talked about the communion incident at Vince’s memorial service, which I’m noting because I’m writing this entry in retrospect, and tomorrow’s blog entry is going to make a reference to it.
When we were finished, I drove Hugh over to the Love Wins Ministry office, whose location I was glad to know, and which I was glad to see to have a mental image of him now when he’s “at the office.” In a sense, it reminded me of the space that Triangle Community Works (TCW) used to rent at the Community United Church of Christ, when I volunteered at their TCW GLBT Helpline.
After dropping Hugh off back at the pub, where his bike was, I headed over to The Borough, where I had two drinks over the course of about an hour, and just watched the place swell with mostly gay men. It went from being not at all crowded to very crowded in that hour, and since I was feeling rather introspective, I was happy to have no conversation beyond a few hellos with a few people, before leaving at around 10 or 10:15.
I’m feeling drawn to some solitude and to the water, I think perhaps because my uncle and his family have been “water people” all their lives, as far back as when I was a kid, and they had a pool in their backyard in New England.
Perhaps I’ll venture toward some North Carolina shore some time tomorrow, just to think and feel small beside the ocean.