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Saturday, July 16, 2016

Avalon

I’m so damn lucky.

I had Jen, Oni, Helen, Miles, Bethanie and Celeste with me on The Amazing Bob’s last afternoon. Together we all watched his life signs on the monitor like it was some great Green Monster scoreboard.

King Arthur’s end came to mind. Jen was holding TAB’s ankles, Celeste, his right hand and arm and I was on his left. I thought of of the three women who ferried Arthur to Avalon after his heroic death. And yeah, that song's been in my head ever since.

They’ve all helped care for me, the disconsolate Widow Maderer, since that day. I’'m not alone in relict-hood – I know that.

Yesterday was a perfect example of that not alone shit. Paula came over to take me out to lunch. Moments before she came through the door I noticed that my kitchen had sprung a rather large leak. She helped me calm down, explore and lay down 1,023 towels. It's a tiny cottage but the basement was under water too. Then she called the plumber and guilt tripped him into coming out right away. After that she went out and bought lunch for us. We ate while the nice, trim, no-crack-showing dude fixed the prob (a bad hose).

I am so damn lucky to have friends like this!

Then, last night, I had the strangest dream.

Three businessmen were busted but not jailed. Two of them – oily, besuited, Ken Lay/Jeff Skilling types – were brought to some sort of space age research-y type facility.

Apparently guilty of skeevy crimes, they were to face the ultimate punishment. Alive and awake, they’d be sliced in two, lengthwise, by a giant circular saw. Yeah, ouchy!

In this nightmare, I was, as yet, an invisible watcher not  a player.

The two white collar pirates were subdivided with a surprisingly small amount of blood and no screaming – just loads of extreme grimacing. That is, until their heads were cleaved. They were a little too dead to make frowny faces at that point.

The third, not yet in custody, man was more of an honest college professor type. He was def innocent of whatever heinous crimes they’d all been accused of. In whirls of fairy dust and optimistic champagne bubbles, I flew into his office. I was ALL about assuring him that we’d escape the fate of those other, obvs guilty, dastardly men. Handily too! Third Man starts patting the air (just like TAB used to do) in a “calm down, slow down” motion. He said he was very tired. Exhausted from fighting the good fight – it was time to end. He looked so damn drained.

But, but, I sez, all we have to do is THIS *insert rainbow sparkles, magical unicorns and, yes, Star Trek, here*

On a previously unseen giant viewing screen Spock appears – not Nimoy but that new guy Zachary Quinto. He’s giving us long, well plotted out instructions while walking down the winding, twisting halls of the Enterprise.

Considering that Spock was broadcasting from outer space, the visual connection was brill BUT the sound kept dropping out. I was missing key bits that I was certain would help me save Mister Third Man.

Panic was creeping in.

And then I woke up.

Yeah – obvs this was about The Amazing Bob and me. His struggle in the vicious jaws of the grim reaper and my attempts to buoy his spirits and rescue him.

I’m thinking, if I’d been able to stick with sleep and finish the dream, I woulda saved him.

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