Coming Home

Saturday night, after going to out to supper with Yancie and her brood, I came back to the house to spend the night. It was the first time since Brenda died.

I don't remember my exact progression from room to room. I probably spent some time in my office/bedroom with the computer. Then after steeling myself to go to Brenda's bedroom and get a blanket I moved to the den. I turned up the fire logs and watched some of Jeremiah Johnson and then some of something else. Nothing made much sense.

After getting sleepy I left the den and went into the kitchen. I planned to return to my room to spend the night. However, Pye, the cat who used to sleep with Brenda came out from wherever she had been hiding and spoke to me and I followed her into Brenda's bedroom. Pye waited on the bed looking at me. I imagined that she was asking where Brenda was. I turned on Brenda's TV and lay down on the bed and Pye let me rub her. But when I lost it, she became indifferent and hopped off the bed and went back to her hiding place.

(Pye and I used to fight about Brenda. Pye wanted to sit on her, getting more insistent as Brenda got sicker. Knowing the cat would wake Brenda up and set off a new round of moaning and panicky breathing I would run her off. But if Brenda was awake, she would tell me to leave Pye alone - that I was making things worse.)

After Pye left, I got up, took one of Dr. Beatty's sleeping pills, and went to my room. I turned on the Beattles' CD took off my clothes and crawled in bed. That worked. I slept almost eight hours.

The next day I had brunch with Steve then braved the drizzle to walk with him in Freedom park. The drizzle was nice. That night I went out to dinner with Yancie, her brood and her inlaws. When I got home there were a few emails waiting from friends.

But the house was just as empty, just as freakish.