December 18, 2017

Maud is ill. Perhaps she is dying. I’ve been through this with five cats, none of whom granted me the mercy of quick passing, but all of whom lingered and lingered, finding places to hide with their faces against the wall, purring a little when I held them in my desperate grief. It usually, since I think of it, happens at Christmas. She lives on the countertop now. I turn the faucet on to drip, because it has always been her pleasure to drink out of the faucet, and that seems to be about the only pleasure left. I try not to think of it. If I think of it I crumble into a sort of hopeless, infantile grief, crying to the Darkness for gifts it never has given and never will give. She could get better. They never did before. To take them to the Vet is to accelerate things, to hear the words “cancer” or “sarcoma” and be dragooned into making decisions that do not, in this state of ignorance, yet need to be made. She has not said, “Let me go.” A month ago I must have sensed this, for I held her and said, “Little spirit, do not leave me.” Of all creatures on earth, Maud is dearest to me. I cannot explain why this is. Only that the Darkness knows where to strike.

A penny fell on my drive. I do not pick it up, because at night in the lamplight it gleams the most beautiful red-gold.

Cantaria afternoon concert better even than Saturday night, my poem a particular hit. I was in better voice in the afternoon. Ironically, my voice is crystal now that I do not have to use it. I baked Will cookies as his secret Santa. Whoever mine was gave me a child’s coloring book. How to interpret that? The popular music that makes me impatient works with the crowd, I must admit, though most people’s favorite was the Biebl “Ave Maria.”

Good work on the space play. Exhaustion hovers over me like a too-big coat.  Sleep, rise up and achieve as long as I can, sleep again. Dormi ancora.

Tried to go to rehearsal tonight, but the venues were locked. I’d read the schedule wrong. Drove for a long time with my lights off, wondering why it was so hard to see. That is also a recurring dream.