Hello people, that is, if anyone is still reading this blog anymore.
I had a rather horrendous 2011. My last meaningful post took place after the famous Aunt Bert passed away in March 2011. Within weeks of that sad event, my entire life changed. I am at odds to synopsize these last nine months and I asked Hollaback how I could even venture back into my private haven of blogging. As usual, she was succinct. "Bullet point it," she offered. It's a start, so I will try. Note that as I venture back into this space, I will need to elaborate on these events so pray, don't assume my brevity here is indicative of indifference. This will take me time.
So Aunt Bert passed away in late February. It represented the end of an era of our happy times in New York. And then the shit hit the fan.
-I had been advised a few months prior that my career with my employer of 23 years would be ending. It was not unexpected and in truth, it was time to go; the business had changed and my role was clearly becoming superfluous. I was half afraid and half exuberant to move on to new challenges. Fang encouraged me to see it as a new challenge and to explore new learning and new opportunities and moreso, to take my time in finding the right new job. My tenure was to end in April.
-Fang and I went out to our happy place on the North Fork of Long Island, the place of many peaceful sojourns from Manhattan, to secure a house for rent for the month of June. I looked forward to a month of quiet to reassess my job opportunities, finally get a decent nights sleep and write. We took the dogs with us and met with the owners of the house on April 2nd. We were very excited about the time ahead.
-Three days later, on April 5th, Fang died. I'm not trying to be dramatic, but it was undoubtedly the worst day of my life. When I left for work, he was still lolling about in bed, half asleep. When I couldn't get him on the phone all day, I left work early and found him at home in bed, gone. He clearly hadn't gotten up and heart failure had taken him. He looked peaceful and as if asleep. In fact, I walked into the bedroom, saw him there and exclaimed, "Don't tell me you're still in bed!!" Yes, I did. When I touched him to rouse him, he was ice cold. I called 911 and did CPR because I couldn't face his being gone, but I knew the truth. I was in a state of sheer horror. I remember the paramedics offering to sedate me and I think I told them to fuck off. Fortunately, good friends came to support me so I could deal with the medical examiner and detectives and the like. I only remember bits and pieces now, but Hollaback came and stayed with me and we slept together on the couch. I now see I was in shock and stayed that way for about nine days. I couldn't grasp the changes this would mean.
-I had our bed, our expensive California king bed with the carved mahogany frame and fine bedding, hauled away to the trash the next day. I couldn't walk into the room with it there.
-Fang was cremated. I scheduled a West Coast and East Coast memorial for him. He would have killed me if I had held a funeral for him. He would have hated the memorial but I thought he wouldn't begrudge nice people a few drinks and a get together. I'll write more about this later.
-A week after Fang died, his 92 year old father went into hospital. The death of his only son devastated him. Fang's sister called me and told me doctors were giving him days to live. "Can you come to California to see him?" she asked. I remember speaking to her while on a cell phone standing on Riverside Drive. "What the FUCK is happening to our family?" I screamed in exasperation on the phone (while passerby's looked and then ignored me). Tough town.
-I went to California and saw Marc, Fang's father. He had been moved to hospice. He was at peace. He kept telling me that Fang was standing by the bed telling him, "Come on, Dad." It was a very sad time. I was there for a week. He died a few days later. He was a very grand and joyous man.
-My employer offered to extend the date of my employment departure, which in true fairness, was generous and kind. I passively threw out some resumes but focused on settling Fang's estate. This whole process was a nightmare and worthy of scores of future posts alone. If I had a dollar for every "We're sorry for your loss but we're going to make the transfer of your joint account as simple as giving an elephant an enema," I'd be a rich woman. The process of filing the insurance claim was the worst of all--the final settlement from Fang's employer insurance was not paid until this last November. I was asked for and provided volumes of documentation. I fully expected they would eventually request a stool sample.
-I decided in May that I would leave my job at the start of June, despite the extension offered by my company. I wanted to take the summer off, the first such break I had enjoyed in my life since I was 18 years old (that would be 31 years ago--ahem). Before I could plot out my summer plans, I was contacted by another media company. They did not know I was leaving my current employee. The President was thinking about retiring. Would I like to throw my hat in the ring for his job? You bet your ass I would. I did. I got the job.
-I left my former job in June. It was bittersweet. I loved the people I worked with and I was grateful for the two decades of experience I had gained there. My experience was rich but I knew I had to move on with my life. And so I did. My new job was slated to start in July. I went back to California for a week and settled some loose ends.
-My new job offered a whole new set of challenges, but an improved commute (now, to New Jersey). I did deplore the daily commute to Connecticut. Oh let's be honest, I hated it. This new commute required crossing a new bridge into another state, but it was shorter and more of a realistic reverse commute, But coming home at night to my co-op in Manhattan reminded me nightly of the evening I came home in April and found Fang. It started to haunt me. I couldn't sleep. I honestly dreaded coming home at night. I decided to leave Manhattan. Nothing kept me there anymore.
-I started passively looking for a new home in New Jersey. Norma provided me a referral to a real estate agent, a pistol of a gal named Joanna. I took the train from NYC to NJ for a few weekends to look at houses. Nothing inspired me. I was resolved that the search would have to wait till the market opened up in the Spring. Joanna sent me automated listings for the area.
-On day in September, I received an automated listing for a house in Summit, a city that Fang and I had lived in ten years ago. We had loved it here. I saw the house, pressed Joanna to see it once it went on market and once inside, fell in love. I put in a bid and I got it.
-I partially renovated my NYC co-op, sublet it and moved into my new house in Summit three weeks ago. It offers a whole new set of challenges.
That said, there is much color that much be inserted between these lines. I've aged and matured (two different things) many years in the last 10 months. I'm learning to live a new life alone. I'm proud of what I've managed--things I never thought I could do on my own. Fang always called me his "tough old broad." I think I am his tough old broad. I hope he would be proud of what I did in the face of all this change.
I miss Fang terribly. I miss him everyday. He was most accepting of my natural independence, but perhaps what he never knew was that he was the foundation and the rock of our home. He always made me feel safe and it's taken me months to not feel vulnerable without him. I like this picture of us (above) taken in 2009. He's protecting me, as he always did, in his quiet way.
As 2012 dawned, my life has changed completely. I don't have a clue what it will bring, but I plan to renew documenting it here. Thanks for your patience.
