Niño & Niña 8 December 2022 |
My daughter Hilary and others keep telling me to stay busy and invite people to the house. But none of that helps when I am on my bed and a glance on the right of the bed and I sense (notice?) the empty presence of Rosemary. This happens all day, no matter what I do.
To take Niño on his daily walk around the block has become the single most important activity of the day. Since I follow the same route that Rosemary took, (“Don’t shout at him. Be patient,” she would gently tell me), that empty presence is with me at all moments.
4 December 2022 |
My daughter tells me that I am busy taking pictures, and good ones, too. I have quite a few enthusiastic women friends willing to disrobe and pose for me. Only yesterday I took this nice photograph of Joe Average.
My health is pretty good until I have that foreseeable heart attack on Granville or while walking on Kits Broadway.
I have nothing to complain about. Still, after having lived 52 years with Rosemary, non me piace to live alone.
But just as taking Niño for a daily walk is mandatory for me as I lie on the bed (many times during the day) and both cats get on top of me I realize that they have an element of humanity in them.
I have been told that one has to show affection to be affectionate and to get it in return. My Niña and Niño with their constant attention and vocalization when I stroke them prove that to want affection is to be affectionate. This they are. When I turn of my light in the evening their warm presence, while not being that of my Rosemary, does help to put me to sleep.