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I shall be leaving two days hence for a two-week stay in
Virginia. This is a direct result of the
fact that, about three months ago, my brother and his wife
finally became successful in adopting two children
from Bolivia (no thanks to the Bolivian government, which
had been impeding their efforts for two years). I will visit
and be introduced as Uncle Clarence, and I'll put on my game
face and try to enjoy it. I understand that many (perhaps most)
people would think this a joyous occasion. I, on the other hand,
am not much of a family person. Rather, the family that
is important to me comprises the people that I've invited into
my heart over the years.
Add to that the fact that I often do not particularly enjoy
vacations because I most often am vacationing alone, and thinking
of the aforementioned people that I left behind. Unfortunately,
given that all but one of these people are male and so constituted
as to make a homosexual romantic relationship impossible, my
vacations always begin by leaving them. (Except for my
trip to Thailand three years ago, a joint venture with my good
friend Bernard.) Regardless of the beauty or exoticism of my
destination, I despoil what should have been
memorable by pining for the people with whom I won't be sharing
those memories years and decades later.
So I'm not looking forward to this trip. In addition to it being
for a reason that does little for me (did I mention, by the way,
that children are not my favorite class of people?), this time I'll
be leaving behind Edward, the most lovable person I know,
and the best friend I've ever had.
Today was the day of our weekly volleyball game. I arrived at
East Beach at ten minutes before noon, and
a half hour later, called Edward's home and cell phones. No answers.
At twelve thirty, I was in my car waiting for the red light at the
egress of the parking lot, angry at the four-to-eight people
none of whom had shown up, and thinking how unhappy I'd be if I didn't
see him this weekend, when he called me. I told him that there
was nobody there and I was just leaving. He said he was on his way
with a friend, so I told him I'd stay. By the time he arrived,
two others had also, and eventually there were six of us; enough for
a good game, and two visitors joined us as well. We had a good two
hours of play, and as we were walking off the
beach, Edward asked
if I'd had fun (yes) and apologized for the tardiness, explaining
that he'd already voiced his displeasure at the other folks who'd
kept him that morning. I gave him a big ol' smile, and he returned
it. He can always make me happy, whether I'm full of self-righteous
anger, or fuming at stupid customers I'm having to deal with. (For
the last two days, he's been privileged to hear me swearing at the
incompetence of these people as I continue working around their
mistakes, and making my boss afraid to come into our office.)
Thankfully, the day turned out well. And our tentative geocaching
plan for tomorrow may still happen. Edward is such a beautiful person,
with a heart big enough to reach me while I'll be three thousand miles
away. I wish everyone could have a friend like him. Edward, my dear
love, I'm going to miss you.
Hopefully a visit with Mitzi will help. Got the cookies ready?