Wednesday, February 9, 2011


I call my mother, she rarely picks up the phone. When she does, she sound disoriented, Dementia ravaging her brain. She sounds happy, for that I am thankful. I listen to her sound bites, I try to take her bum’s rush in stride.

My family has shape shifted over the years. My parents moved across the country 20 years ago, my father passed away shortly thereafter. My brother got married, had kids, and moved to Oregon and hasn’t made it back East since. I have dropped the ball, my visits out to Portland have been few and far between. His kids are a foot taller each time I visit. I try to make in into the city to see my other brother whenever he extends an invite. I watch him smoke a cigarette, I see it as a threat to one of my last remaining shreds of the family I once had.

I appreciate the friends I have, the ones that extend a hand as I cling to my alone time, that’s always been my way. Friends disperse as they pursue different interests than yours, move away, or simply drift. No one is to blame, we’re not in high school anymore - we’re not all sitting in the cafeteria giggling, or going out every Saturday night.
Seems sometimes, some of my closest friends are the ones I’ve never met.

I used to consider myself “independent”, but I’m feeling more disenfranchised as of late. A lone wolf not so much by choice, but more of a sentence by my own hand. I look at the men that I have loved and wonder how I could have assigned such a word to what actually was. I question the core friend I have in this life, the one I am to myself.


  1. Claudia, I feel the same way a lot of the time. But I think that aligning yourself with the truth is more admirable and enjoyable than suffering in a false life that looks good on the outside and feels awful on the inside. Thank God spring is on its way and you can ride your bike in the sunshine.

  2. I tend to feel that I must posture on this blog, and today I was like, "have some cohones, and say what you're really feeling latey". So, thanks for the acknowledge, Eve. And yeah, this winter incarceration ain't working wonders. (Waiter! One bike and sunshine, please). indeed!!

  3. Now that you have a real bike, you need some real roads. Lease out your space for a year and try the true north of the left coast. You may find that you have a family out here or not. Either way, you can always return to Brooklyn, and you and others will love you more for having the guts to try something brand new at this stage.

  4. Innnteresting option I hadn't thought of. :)
    I mean, I've thought about moving... but your scenario is actually food for thought - for me and my guts.

  5. Come here. I'll give you a hug.

  6. Who's offering? ;)