January 20, 2005
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Chapter 8 – Flower Children (cont.)
(See sidebar for previous chapters)Finally, in mid-September, Felix wired that he would arrive in San Francisco after another week. By the end of the month he was back, but he was broke and not able to be supportive or understanding of what I’d been through. By this time, I had stopped working to wait for the birth. I decided to spend the last few weeks alone and sent him away. My mother arrived from Oregon and the two of them met and were barely civil to each other. But on October 27th after a taxi ride with my mother to the hospital and 13 hours of labor mitigated by breathing lessons from an intern and morphine, Jane was born at 9 lbs. 11 oz. and she was perfect. Felix was tracked down and summoned and he came to visit. For the next few days in the hospital, I learned all those things a new mother learns for the first time – how to diaper, how to nurse, how to sit in a sitz bath, how to walk without a watermelon in the belly. I felt as though I’d been forgiven for anything I had ever done wrong. And maybe I had. (to be continued tomorrow)
Deep Thought: “As the light changed from red to green to yellow and back again, I sat there thinking about life. Was it nothing more than a bunch of honking and yelling? Sometimes it seemed that way.”
Today I am grateful for: Remote controls so I can quickly turn the channel so I don’t have to see a certain person’s inaugurated face
Guess the Movie: “I call upon all nations to do everything they can to stop these terrorist killers. Thank you. Now, watch this drive.” Answer: Fahrenheit 9/11.
Winner: thenarrator.
Ho Hum, More War And Death
What happens when habitual warmongering and BushCo lies become part of our daily diet?
by Mark Morford
And then you read the appalling little story about how BushCo is now “taking steps” to further the investigation into why their original intelligence on Iraq was so painfully, treasonously, colon-clenchingly wrong, why they thought Saddam had giant Costco-sized warehouses stacked to the rafters with snarling nukes and nasty biotoxins and active warheads when, in fact, he had nothing but a couple Dumpsters full of rusty 20-year-old shell casings and a bucket of stale glue. (Rest of article here.)
End of Day: 8:16 pm
+ = No big explosions in the capital today.
- = No big explosions at the capital today. (just kidding)
Comments (13)
Fahrenheit 911.
I simply can’t imagine not being a full-time father to my child. It baffles me that guys can do that. Of course my kid’s mother walked away, so it isn’t just males.
Right-o on the movie.
I am so grateful for all the single fathers in the world. I can’t imagine walking away either, but the world is a complex darn place. Jane’s father went on to be a great father to his four children by the woman he married after he left us. He just couldn’t look back.
“I felt as though I’d been forgiven for anything I had ever done wrong. And maybe I had. ” This line just resonated in me. Very well said. I have been reading quietly and enjoying your story.
You seem to have lived a very full life, and I enjoy reading it. But it seems like your hitting all the high–or low–points. How about some of the detail, like what specifically happened between Felix and your mother that made them “uncivil”? Sorry, I don’t mean to meddle in other people’s writing, but you obviously have experienced a lot that would be an interesting read. Of course, I’m just being a nosy jerk…
I’m just catching up, reading most of this story in one go. I love that image of new motherhood as absolution.
ryc thank you.
I’m waiting for the part where you discover Hait-Ashbury.
Its amazing how a baby can chage your life. The two of you are beautiful together!
back to say I love that photograph. I guess I need to do a funny single-dad story, because weord things do happen. Schools, for example, are certain that not every child has a father around, but are shocked and confused (and thus often brutal) when there’s no mom.
I’d love to read about that part of your story.
A fascinating story. I too would love to see you flesh some things out when you finish. Gorgeous pic.
what a wonderful story. I love seeing Jane’s picture she was and is beautiful.
awwwww!