Long Weekend, Part I

[I realize that it's early Tuesday morning, but this feels just now like the beginning of a new week after a long weekend that began last Thursday, late afternoon. I'd rather be in bed, stealing one last half-gour before getting up and going to work, but I think I'd better try to get down at least a list of the high point of what I knew going would be a pretty emotional few days. I didn't know quite what a roller coaster it would turn out to be.]

[My usual tardiness in getting ready to go to Sonoma meant that I has masses of dirty laundry facing me on Thursday. Instead of spending a quiet, productive evening at home, of course, I decided to call Allen to see if he wanted to distract me some more. That's what friends are for, at least sometimes. A. said he had a bunch of clothes to wash, too, so I proposed we do a laundry night at the 'mat near his place, make dinner,that I sleep on his couch, and leave from there to catch the Larkspur ferry Friday morning. I don't know why, but I didn't want to be alone going into a weekend during which I wouldn't get all that much chance to be alone.]

[It was a grouchy, difficult haul getting a full bag of clothes, my smaller travel satchel, the coat-hangered outfit I'd picked for Susanna's wedding, and my own stupid ass down to BART and then over to Dolores House. I contemplated a cab (which I rarely do - money's not exactly flowing copiously these days), but managed to skip it and get self and burden there using just the Fast Pass. A. hadn't arrived from work, so I got the laundry in and waited for him on the front steps. In due course, the Dog Bruno came bounding up (Allen's been taking him to work while Charlotte's been working out of town), followed tiredly by A.]

[Laundry done, the News Hour done, unhealthful snacking done, I suddnely realized I'd left something at home that I couldn't do without. Allen said he needed to go over to the Castro to pick something up, so we ventured back out into May's arctic gale to make one last circuit. Back downtown to my place, meds retrieved, walked down frigid, windy Van Ness to Market, where we said "forget this" and descended underground to ride in crowded but warm comfort down to Castro. He picked up his thing, and we cabbed it back to Dolores House (expenditure justified by having virtuously skipped it earlier). Dinner never quite happened, and I curled up on the couch feeling ready to go someplace warm, someplace not San Francisco.]

[I woke up early, had a nice long chat with Charlotte over coffee (she's been getting up at ugly, cow-milking hours to go on these out-of-town jobs; I hadn't seen her in a while, so it was good to chat, even before dawn), Allen and Carrie arose, and I suddenly was late in getting down to the Ferry Building. An unnecessary anxious bother getting down there resulted in my waiting for almost an hour for the next ferry, but all was well as I called Mom with dull, off-white San Quentin off the starboard bow as we were about to pull into Larkspur Landing.]

[She picked me up and drove us to Marin General Hospital, where Dad was having this done. I'd taken Friday off to keep Mom company during the procedure and while Dad spent the night in the hospital. I saw Dad, valiumed-out and peaceful, before he went in to get cardio-zapped. Mom and I had lunch in Kentfield, then went back to the hospital to play endless games of Boggle while we waited. Doc came in, everything went according to plan, we saw Dad briefly (he was still pretty out of it), and we left.]

[Mom drove us to Sonoma, where the plan was to have a nice, wine-toss'd dinner and talktalktalk. That's just what we did...]

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