Yesterday was a strange day.

I was visiting Stephanie when I received an email from dave saying  how sorry he was for hurting me again. That pained me all over again.

Obviously he had read my blog. I didn’t like thinking that because I don’t want to consider his reaction to anything I write.

When I got home I wrote a post which was an open letter to dave to stop reading my writings because nothing in it was for him. No news of me or family or friends that he left behind.

It was entitled “If dave were here he’d protect me from dave”

Thank goodness I remembered what I always tell Stephanie, live with any strong letter before you mail it and I decided not to publish it until this morning.

When I woke up today I trashed it for being too pathetic.

Last night I got my divorce papers. I almost threw up. I forwarded them to dave and went to bed.

I thought the worst of this was over but it clearly wasn’t. I finally had to take one of my big time crazy pills in order to fall asleep.

I woke up this morning and read a comment from someone who reads my blog named Paula but who the world thinks of as VanillaBeanBake and she said something that resonated.

“No matter how long it takes to settle everything and have a divorce granted, the finality of it all can still hit you like a ton of bricks”

This wasn’t a setback. It was a normal reaction to what was happening to me. I felt so much better.

Then the phone rang. It was Captain Hugh. He said he knows I wouldn’t let him down but he wanted to make sure that I sent him the money I told him I was going to send before he sent his nephew to pick him up.

Usually these conversations are very short but today we spoke for awhile. He told me how much that money helped him and I reminded him that he was so kind and protective of us all those years ago and I would never forget it. It was just his good coming back to him.

I don’t know why but I feel very happy. There are plenty of people in my life that nurture me . And I’m proud of myself for whatever dignity I’ve been able to keep through this whole thing.

So dave, read the blog, don’t read the blog. I couldn’t care less. I’m movin’ on.

Today may just be a good day.

I”m going up to see Steph’s new puppy. I hope he’s cute.

Last night David, my niece Laura’s boy, Scott and I went out to dinner.

Scott has been staying with me on and off for the past few weeks waiting to move into his new apartment.

He is without doubt the best kid I ever met. He cleans, he insists on taking me out to dinner and does a million little things to make my life easier.

He does make me feel a little old though. We were watching TV and I said “I’m going to get myself a banana. Do you want one?”

He immediately jumped up and got me a banana. I realized then that he must see me as pretty feeble.

Ah maybe I am.

I figure loaning me this kid is Laura’s way of repaying me for stopping the carnival ride when she was crying and cutting her nails without hurting her (my sister did it too fast) and putting mustard on every inch of the bread on her bologna sandwich.

I guess she decided to overlook the making her cry because she wasn’t taller than Stephanie thing. And even though I’ve gotten a load of criticism about that it wasn’t my fault. The girl cried at the drop of a hat.

By the way, after reading  David’s comments on my last blog Liz sent him the following email:

Subj: YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO COMMENT ON ANY BLOG.

This time your email address appears!! Next time , somehow you will manage to put our home address and phone number.

Poor Liz, she keeps hoping that no one who reads my blog will know that the David I write about is the person she’s chosen to spend her life with.

This was the most different Thanksgiving I’ve had in years.

Julie, her husband and daughter took me out to a fancy fancy dinner . It was wonderful.

The next day Julie and I had to drive up to Marcia’s house to pick up Julie’s dogs. They were supposed to be brought back to the City by Marcia and Paul on Thanksgiving eve but since they didn’t come we had to go get them.

For some reason they were no longer welcome. Since Marcia couldn’t walk them they made do in whatever way they could.

I for one can’t imagine why someone would put oriental rugs and hardwood floors above the happiness of 3 sweet and , may I say, “regular” puppies.

Anyway it’s always great to see my sister and brother in law so the 5 hour drive each way was more than worth it.

The drive up was fun because Julie and I could talk and talk.

The drive home the next day wasn’t as good..

One reason was that Julie keeps her dog Bea on her lap with Bea’s ass, a farting machine, aimed at me, the driver.

I kept asking Julie to turn her around but she refused because “Bea likes to face the window”.

The other reason was that dave sent me an email saying simply “Nu?” during the ride.

This is Yiddish for “What’s doing?”.

I’m assuming he meant with the papers for the pension or a million other details that I’m responsible for .

A week or two ago when my lawyer said I’d be divorced soon and that the pension would be separated after some details were ironed out I have to admit I was shocked.

I knew that a divorce was coming but hearing the word floored me. I just figured it would be a separation I guess, which is stupid.

Anyway the email upset me so much that I asked Julie to erase it so I wouldn’t have to see it. He usually writes me in a very business like manner. The playfulness of this made me want to throw up.

That night I had a dream that he hated me and his new album had a picture of his girlfriend and their newborn son on it. She was even holding a puppy.

Time to up the crazy pills.

Thanksgiving day.

First call, Captain Hugh.

“How ya doing, Captain?”

“Not so good, Mattie.  I was 80 on my last birthday”

“We’re getting old, Captain”

“You’re gettin’, I’m got”

Tonight Julie and Paul are taking me to a fancy restaurant for Thanksgiving dinner. I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t having the whole family for this holiday.

Steph said I should wear a wrist corsage and comb my hair nice.

Last night David sent me the “cocktails?” email and I shot over.

The holiday must have softened him because he asked me twice to join him and his son for dinner. Unfortunately I had to decline because I had my mind set on wonton soup.

Anyway while I was helping him polish off a fabulous bottle of wine he had to take a few phone calls . I love to listen in on his business calls. He throws around millions of dollars like they’re farfels. He frequently peppers his conversations with stuff like “If they can’t come up 3 million, fuck’em”

I think I told you that after the election David decided to become a Democrat because he wants free stuff . But he insists that he is “clinging” to his guns (he always puts in the air quotes because apparently President Obama used that term) since “society as we know it will surely crumble”.

We were just sitting there chatting when he said  “I met an  interesting guy last night”

It seems he was at the bar at “Smith and Wollensky” a nearby steak house, and he struck up a conversation with a couple also having drinks.

“This guy worked for Blackwater. He was a marine sniper who had joined the Navy Seals. We were talking for about an hour and a half and he took out his iphone and showed me photos of some of his kills”

“WHAT?” he finally even shocked me.

“Yeah they were really something. It looked like one guy had the top of his head blown off”

“David, this guy wasn’t sane. What kind of Navy Seal would show pictures like this to someone he meets in a restaurant? If he was any kind of Seal he has obviously gone over the mental patient cliff.”

“They were nice athletic looking people. I’m sure they were Republicans”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

I just hope that dope didn’t give that nut his home address.

It seems that my Thanksgiving has hit a wall.

My sister Marcia hurt her knee really badly so she can’t come.

When Stephanie heard that Marcia isn’t coming she said she’s not driving through all that traffic just to look at me and Julie, people she can see any time so she’s out.

The others have already said they aren’t coming because of bronchitis, Disney World, first Thanksgiving in new house and a variety of other reasons.

So it looks like it’s just me, Julie, Paul and Violet.

So I’ll make a little turkey con trimmings (I speak very little english now) that we can wash down with vats of wine.

If you think Violet was pissed before, don’t ask.

Yitzhak left for Israel last night not really knowing what he’d find.

He’s brave. I know I wouldn’t be so philosophical about the whole thing. I’d be crying and hiding under my bed. Luckily the whole world isn’t made up of people like me.

Hey maybe it isn’t so lucky. I never even punched anyone. The world might be better off if everyone was scared to fight.

Anyway back to me.

I’m getting ready to host the family for Thanksgiving. One by one they’re dropping out though. It may end up being a small family dinner rather than the hoards that usually come each year.

That’s not so bad for me but Violet, Julie’s girl, will bust a gut.

She looooves her cousins who aren’t coming and couldn’t care less about any of the grown ups.  Julie was not looking forward to telling her so Gail, @thetoughcookie suggested I tell her. Now this woman has met me so I was a bit puzzled by this but then I figured that my sweetness shined through and maybe she was right.

I decided to break the news via a knock knock joke.

I”m much nicer to kids than I used to be.

I remember lying on my sister Iris’ bed when her two youngest daughters Stephanie and Laura came in. Steph was about 9 and Laura was 7ish.

I had a little time on my hands so for the goof I said I would give a dollar to whoever is taller.

Laura’s mouth flew open at the injustice of it. “I’m the tallest one in my class”

“I’m not giving a buck to the tallest in their class”

Her little eyes welled up with tears. “But but she’s 2 years older than I am”

“Well eat your veggies and maybe by next year you’ll grow taller than her and you’ll be able to win the dollar. Of course next year I may give a dollar to whoever is shortest.”

I’m much nicer now.

Now let’s see “knock knock. Who’s going to have a real shitty Thanksgiving?”

My nephew is here from Israel.

News is coming in constantly about the missiles going deep into his country.

This morning I read that 4 missiles hit Ashdod, the town he lives in. that is where the majority of his family is now.  The phone calls back and forth from his wife and children are chilling.

He’s in Brooklyn for the Sabbath so I won’t be able to speak to him until tonight but yesterday I looked at him and he appeared calm. I asked him “Are you terrified?”

He shrugged and said “Obviously I’m concerned but we’ve lived like this for so long so…..”

Nothing I write here can describe what’s going on in the Middle East so I won’t even try. I’ll just go on and write about the drivel that is my life.

Eric, or Yitzhak as he’s been known for over 30 years, is here to visit his mother’s grave. He comes every year at this time.

We went very early yesterday morning because he had to get to Brooklyn for Shabbas.

On the way up I explained to him that even though I don’t believe that my sister Phyllis is really there I will accompany him and maybe say a few words to her. He just smiled. He is very sure of his religion and loves me even though I’m a heathen.

We arrived at the cemetery and started looking for the stone plaque over my sister’s grave. We both thought we knew where it was and we started walking up and down the aisles in totally separate areas.

We couldn’t find her anywhere. We were searching for easily 40 minutes. I was just about to suggest we give up and leave a message with Sylvia Goldfarb, b.1933  d. 2005, a woman close to my sister’s age,  to give to her when she sees her when Eric calls to me and says he found her grave under a big pile of leaves.

We push aside the leaves and while Eric goes to get some water so we can wash off the stone, I decide to say a few words to Phyllis.

Before I know it I’m sobbing and telling her how much I miss her and how much easier this year would have been if she had been here.

Yitzhak came back, put his arms around me, said his prayers and then carefully washed off his mother’s gravestone.

Skinny people take their time eating because they don’t consider dinner a job. I will never understand this.

The other night I went out to dinner with my nephew Barry’s wife, Teresa and his childhood friend, Jack and Jack’s wife Ann.

I know Jack and Ann are grown ups. They have big kids but I still look at Jack as a teenager. By her connection to him, I feel the same way about Ann. Jack hasn’t changed at all, not in looks or grownupedness, Ann too.

Anyway we all had a lovely dinner.

At the end of the meal I was talking to Ann and Jack and Teresa were deep in conversation.

The waiter came over and asked if he could take the plates away. Everyone had finished eating. At least that’s what I thought.

He cleared the first three settings  but when the waiter tried to take Teresa’s dish, she put her hand up and told him “I’m not quite done” then she continued her conversation.

I looked at her plate. She had one bite size piece of sausage on it. Nothing else.

Although I was ok with her not wanting to give that last bite away, I was puzzled by her not just popping it into her mouth.

We all had had some wine and those three were happily dragging the evening on because they were having fun. I on the other hand, am old and wine means snooze time.

Only after the waiter had returned 3 more times to ask if he could remove her plate and each time she shook her head no while continuing her conversation and not making a move towards downing that last morsel, did I realize that I had to say something or we’d never get out of there and it was only minutes before my head would fall down on the crumb laden table in a deep sleep.

I love my niece Teresa and I pride myself in being subtle and diplomatic. I certainly didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable so I simply said, “Will you shut the fuck up and eat that sausage”

That seemed to do it. I was home and in my bed within 15 minutes.

Julie had a reading upstate for her new book,  “Friendkeeping” so she and I, accompanied by her 3 dogs, went up to spend the weekend with her parents, my sister Marcia and brother in law, Paul.

The ride up was really fun. Julie and I rarely get to spend that much alone time so we yapped and yapped. Even one dog vomiting in the back seat of my car and another farting constantly and snoring like one of the 3 stooges didn’t put any kind of damper on the trip.

We got up there at around 3. Very close to cocktail hour.

Now let me tell you about having a big sister. Even if you are 68 she is still in charge. If I wanted to help with dinner she tells me to shut up and sit down. In fact “shut up” was the theme of the weekend. The funny thing is that every time she said it it was like a kiss on the cheek and we give wet hard kisses in my family.

They live in this beautiful, comfortable house that they frequently say proudly has thick walls that keep something out and other things in. I never listened to the end of that story so I really am not up on the details.

Julie spent a great deal of time in the front driveway because she couldn’t get email in their house (remember those thick walls). I, on the other hand had email up the kazoo on my ipad and on my iphone. Much to her irritation I checked my email constantly even though most of what I received was for penis enlargements and reminders from Freshdirect.

This is something I want to say before I continue.

My brother in law, Paul is hysterically funny and talented  but he’s also deaf as a post, sorry Paulie. They constantly have music playing which would dull any other sounds and my sister can be said to be on another planet at times.

This wasn’t important until later in the afternoon when I went to powder my nose.

As I tried to leave the terlet, much to my surprise I couldn’t  open the door. I tried and tried.

Here’s the problem. You have to get someone to let you out but what do you say? Do you yell “Help!” or “Marcia!”?  No point in calling Paul and whatever you shout it’s embarrassing.

First I try a few half assed “Marcia”s.  I started thinking about those thick walls then and figured the only chance I have of escaping is to attract Julie’s attention. But she’s outside in the driveway which is on the other side of the house. I open the window ( it’s one of those side opening windows) and purse my lips through the opening trying to yell “Juuuulieeee”

No response.

Then I realized that if I was going to get out of there before the end of cocktail hour I’d have to give an all out yell.

The end of this isn’t very interesting. They did hear me and came and saved me  but any dignity I had was only a memory.

When I told my sister that she should fix that door so it wouldn’t happen again she told me to shut up.

We have a new President. I was so scared that President Obama wouldn’t win that I didn’t watch any of the returns and only found out the next morning.

The first thing I did was make a big smiley face on a piece of paper and slide it under David’s door.

He is in such a rage over this election that I almost want to ease his pain by taking the Obama Biden sticker off my front door. I said “almost”.

I want him to know that I am an American that isn’t  ” Sure that this country’s gone commie”.

Amidst all his rants I received an email from Lizzie saying “Well that was scary. What a relief. We’ll celebrate when I come home:)”

It seems they are the Arnold Schwarzenegger / Maria Shriver of the 18th floor. I mean that politically not that whole maid stuff.

The other night I watched the original “Pink Panther”.

In 1964 I remember it as being such a funny movie. Man have I changed. It was barely amusing.

Before the movie started the host spoke of Capucine, the woman who played Peter Sellers’ wife.

It seems that she was a longtime love of  William Holden who eventually broke up with her. They say she never got over him and eventually took her own life because of it.

Huh?

Maybe I didn’t really love dave because that never entered my mind and I’m not a rich beautiful movie star.

Of course dave is no William Holden either.