A shut-in sleeps in a single bed in my living room. An aging writer. I am his most reluctant keeper. After a glorious for me lockdown, I returned to Toronto, after my seventy-first birthday, knowing he who I will call Elf, after his favourite Christmas movie, was returning to a caregiving role did not want.
Elf, is a long ago ex who feels like family. A brother. Many of Elf’s former wives ( there were three), lovers, girlfriends and who knows who else, share my sentiment.
He is like a brother to many.
While I was in the Ottawa Valley during lockdown, he stayed at my apartment & managed to have two strokes.
As a result, Elf, has trouble finding words, lost his hearing in one ear & his peripheral vision. He only leaves my apartment for medical appointments.
Arranging for Himself to move to long-term care is an arduous & complicated process.
For awhile I wrapped myself in misery & ignored all I love about life focusing instead on how did I allow Elf into my apartment knowing he is a bad idea. The human equivalent of an illegal drug like Heroin. For me. Frail his danger is no more. But these days he more comparable to Metamucil.
Wrapped in my woes I ghosted close friends, writer friends both and admired, family, acquaintances and all.
I have removed my tortured cloak of woes. An anti-depressant helped.
I am back with regrets for time lost pondering & avoiding life , except for Zoom meetings.
I intend to post messy first drafts on this blog along with updates on my Cathy Bates reverse situation in Misery.
Who is the captive?
Happy Holidays to all.
PS Am not yet conversant with the ways of WordPress but am learning a wee bit at a time.
PPS Full disclosure. I have been staying at a friend’s lovely apartment, while he is elsewhere, and visit Elf once a day.
Picture is of the delightful apartment I am staying at.
That’s my story & I am sticking to it. I prefer to appear as a hapless victim of circumstance.
Elf has been in my life for many years. We know each other better than most.
In 1985 the day before he was to move in with me I told him he could not. I knew I wanted him my life as a boyfriend but not a domestic partner.
Over the years, I have maintained a relationship with Elf even though we have each been with others in relationship.
I dragged him along with me throughout the years. And now here we are.
In a weird way he has been one of my life partners. He is not a monogamous guy & I have not caved for many years to his desires.
Elf is at my apartment due to choices I have made along the way.
More frightening is in-spite of mean poems I’ve written about him
I am loathe to admit I’ll be devastated when he’s gone. After me I hope!