Day 88

Four years ago, my son wanted a president’s theme for his half birthday party. My spouse asked a colleague to make a huge laminated sign advertising his run for president. Proudly, he held it and smiled. He was six. But even at that young age, he’d have made a better president than the man now defiling the White House and the office of the president. 

It’s is a cloudy and windy day. I’m sitting on the porch and the wind is cutting through me. It’s supposed to rain, but so far, only a few drops have fallen. Mom is in a funk, as she has been for the last 58 days. Dreary days are the hardest. They make her miss Dad even more. “Life sucks and then you die. Your father used to say that all the time,” she tells me over an over again. “But I didn’t expect him to go so soon.”

I made some calls for her this morning. The credit card company is giving her a hard time about the negative balance on Dad’s card. And they won’t talk to me. They insist on speaking to her. Next time, I’m going to lie. I’m going to say that I’m her. It’ll be easier for me and less emotional for my mother. In cases like this, honesty is definitely not the best policy. I don’t understand why getting the money from Dad’s card is so difficult. If Dad had died in the red, the ywould have demanded every cent and they would have wanted it yesterday. But when the money is owed, they take their time. I’m guessing they are intentionally making it difficult so that we give up and they get to keep the money.

While I was helping Mom navigate her way around her new computer, she sighed in frustration, pushed the computer aside and asked, “How many other people on our Viking vacation do you think got sick? How many others died?” I shrugged. I have no way of knowing, and I doubt I’d ever be able to find out. Though I’ve been curious myself. Honestly, I’ve put so much blame on Trump, who should have been honest from the beginning, but now I wonder, should I spread the blame around? Is Viking responsible? How much did Viking know before my parents’ cruise commenced? Were they aware that the virus was lurking, that we were heading into a dangerous time? Did they ignore the intel they had — much like Trump —  because acting on it would have meant canceling cruises, and canceled cruises would have meant no money coming in (or rather, lots of money going out, back to the people who booked their trips)? Did they, like Trump, put cash before morality, before ethics? Sadly, I wouldn’t be surprised. I’d like to know what they knew before Mom and Dad’s ship departed? They took the temperature of passengers every day. So they must have known there was a potential for spread on the boat. Did they identify anyone who was sick? What were the lies, the cover-ups, the special interests that allowed them to keep working while people like my Dad got sick and died? Of course, I have no proof that he got sick on the ship, but the timeline indicates that Viking is responsible. They got rich, they filled their pockets, and they left my family with a huge gaping hole. But money is apparently all that matters. It always wins out. Always.

My son finally submitted his Spanish project. It was late, but he did it. He had to do a poster about a famous person who came from a Spanish-speaking Latin American country. His chose Neruda, because Neruda was Chilean and he had a house in Valparaiso, a city my parents visited during the cruise that killed Dad. My son chose Neruda after one of the last Facetime calls he ever had with his grandfather.

I sent out a few more query letters this afternoon. From one agency, I got a rejection letter 13 minutes after sending it. They told me after careful consideration they decided it wasn’t for them. What kind of careful consideration can you give something in 13 minutes? From another agency, I got an automated response saying they were in receipt of my query and that they aimed to read it, but to due the high volume of submissions, they may not have time. I laughed. So many agents don’t even bother with rejection letters. Now I have to wonder, how many of them actually read what I send. At least this agency was honest. But seriously, how do I catch someone’s attention if there’s a chance no one is reading my letters to begin with? My son once asked me, if I could have one super power what would it be. I foolishly answered: invisibility. Apparently, I already have that superpower and it’s far more of a liability than an asset. Please, someone tell me, how do I get noticed?

It’s too cold and cloudy for the beach, and so we played cards — Phase10. When I took the cards out of the box, the old score sheet fell out, the last scoresheet Dad will ever be a part of.

After dinners, Dad and I used to linger at the table to finish our wine. Sometimes, we’d pour more so as not to break the spell, so that we could spend more time with each other. Some nights we talked about current events, or made plans for the following day. Other nights, we simply sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company. I miss that more than I ever would have imagined possible.