Last Friday, I went on an empty stomach to the appointment, direction Sherbrooke, Barbara as a companion in the car, “There will be people at the funeral, if we are to believe appearances”. You see the spirit. I got into the habit of going to confront the beast alone.
The nurse reassured me, even though I was not entitled to fentanyl during the exam, because I was the designated driver: “It won’t hurt, but it will be uncomfortable. »
Seems like that’s the story of my life. In the end, it was she who suffered; I crushed her hand so hard, poor little thing, she should’ve been sedated.
Five minutes is a long time, with a YouTube in your cold stomach. Luckily they are there, our nurses. The day they go on strike, no longer able to keep this system at arm’s length, we will cry from maternal abandonment, like children weaned too early. The doc was perfect, even without fentanyl. It’s not cancer, he reassured me (they never utter that word; he said “lesion”), it’s the slack valve, it comes with age.
Don’t tell me doctor, I’m changing decades, I’m in the balance sheets. The valve slackens, I’ll get used to it, but do we ever get used to the cruelty of life, to its betrayals, its lies, its violence, its cowardice? Fentanyl, can I take it to go? At home, it’s legal, but on the street, it’s more sketch (I am taking lessons with the peregrine falcon).
I feel that at the last meeting,
No, no, I won’t be alone.
Let them come and it will be alive,
The day of my funeral.
On the way back, I put Ferland on the mat, “What the hell does it matter? » and I bawled in the bend of the 55. Relieved, disappointed, worn out? All that ? “But what can it matter when my heart is upside down? Who will come to die in my place? »
What does it matter if all the friends I no longer see have come back after seeing my host photo on social media? I reassured them. Phew. They can go running. They haven’t received the memo yet. I should die more regularly.
Here, the memo, an ex-boss received it and wrote me a final note of appreciation not too long ago. He was going to die. He would have benefited from taking courses in empathy from the nurse during his reign. I am polite. But what does speaking the truth mean, too little too late? Worse, yes, we always end up with his mouth, Ferland is right.
Last words matter
Coco Chanel said that no one is young after 40, but you can be irresistible at any age.
What good does it matter, your trips of power that leaves you alone at the top of who knows what. It’s very lonely at the top. We’re pretty much alone in the basement too.
I will never forget my father’s last words before taking his own life at 66: Basically, what counts are the people we love and who have loved us. Take notes, it doesn’t happen that often despite what you want to believe.
Friendship is precious, intimacy rare, eroticism a luxury, fleeting desire, easy lying, intoxicating intensity, love… so fragile, and fleeting time. What thrills you at 20 isn’t worth 40 years later. Gabin always: “Life, love, money, friends and roses, you never know the noise or the color of things. ” Now I know.
Sometimes I feel so old that I feel like I have one foot in John of Florette and the other in the metaverse. I saw Montand playing pétanque in Saint-Paul-de-Vence and Monsieur 100,000 volts charming the waitresses at the restaurant. My young friends know neither.
That said, we renewed A boy a girl, The little life come back, Me and the other also, Zellers is back in service and the restaurant Le 9e from Eaton’s will reopen. Sometimes I wonder if time has stopped like in the movie a bit corny, but charming (Italians can afford it) Not too soon, where the guy remembers his life only on his birthday. He’s so busy he can’t see anything happening.
There are 60 strokes that rang on the clock
I’m still at my window, I look, and I wonder
Now I know, I know you never know
Alexandre Jardin, always optimistic, wrote to me after the hospital: “The good guys win. I replied, “Only in the movies.” “I’m not cynical, I just have the valve slacque.
In real life, sometimes the good guys tip a taxi driver $25. This one sang the song he composed for his mother’s funeral to my B who was leaving work at 4:00 in the morning. My son received a memo from a Haitian troubadour in need of a mother. Thank you for everything. Keep the Sameil change.
cheerful pessimist
I have always embraced freedom, today like yesterday. In the movie the cobbler, Élise Guilbault pronounced this essential sentence before dying: “There is no freedom except in the truth. There aren’t many who dare to look her in the face, like death for that matter.
I just read my truths of Colette, my lifelong mentor. These radio interviews conducted when she was 76, in 1949, a few years before her death, find her in the day of renunciation and waiting. She demolishes the idea of happiness and associates the word “banality” with love, and then she admits to being a cheerful pessimist.
I find myself in his words on the evening of his life, plowed by so many emotions and impulses. No, she didn’t save herself. She published Dear in 1920 and The end of Cheri in 1926, the story of a young man (Chéri) in love with a woman in her fifties, a courtesan whom he will regret after their breakup. Scandal then, giggles still today.
Last night, my 84-year-old Mimi and I, both daughters of Colette, toasted my birthday in her studio from another century, she in her baroque armchair, me sitting on her futon bed that she unfolds nightly. Mimi calls me her “Fatale” or “Cassandra”, depending on the day.
My old friend wants to die at 100. She doesn’t care about the memo. We sang What good can it do. Of course, she knew Ferland in person; she interviewed him. He was drinking gin in an interview at 10 a.m. Times have changed a lot.
“Woooooo. Don’t push too hard. I don’t want to die before I’m dead. »
And that is true at any age and at any time.