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Teal's Modest Adventures

Life & Events > It Was 1993

It Was 1993

I was looking through an old journal from 1993, the year Jay died. It is full of work thoughts and I referenced people on the job that I don’t even remember. I was handling the data base for New York Times Syndicate sales to other newspapers and I had designed the computer program that allowed for sophisticated targeting. Connie and Cecelia were twin sisters who handled one-shots (single stories) from home (in San Francisco) and from time to time they took vacations and then I handled their sales. I have likened one-shots to one-night stands and contract sales were like getting married – a harder sell. One shots are a pain in the ass and the phone rang constantly and drove me nuts. And I didn’t get a commission even though C&C got commissions.

I was also undergoing the widow thing and crying when I walked and I walked everywhere. I’d walk from my loft on the Lower East Side to midtown Manhattan where the office was. Widowhood can be so daunting to others that you can be avoided. I’d come home and check my phone for messages and a deep male voice would intone “you have no messages” and I would thank him for talking to me. Anthony, who had been one of the nurses taking care of Jay in our home, lived on 4th Street, a short walk from the loft. He had a key and would come over and play my piano and leave me notes. And I'd write a response. And sometimes I'd leave him a present. That was my social life. Women with family members in distress that I had met at a counseling center didn’t want to socialize either. Maybe they didn’t want to be reminded.

As I read this narrative, I found I didn’t remember myself. Was I ever really that person? How did I do all that?

xx, Teal

posted on May 23, 2019 11:10 PM ()


I try to plan things so Ted will go to assisted living and Linda will have an easy time disposing of assets but like the poet said, "the best laid plans of mice and men often go agley". My BIL's illness has shown
me that. they built a beautiful Colorado type home in the country for a long and happy retirement and paid for it as they built it. David's
cancer and dementia certainly put a stop to that.
comment by elderjane on May 26, 2019 4:30 AM ()
People don't understand deep grief if they have never experienced it. I
think that no one likes to think that they are mortal.
comment by elderjane on May 24, 2019 6:44 AM ()
I should add that a very dear friend just lost her husband very suddenly. She will visit when the dust settles. I fear for her because this event may lead to her own demise since she has had a recurrence of cancer and is under treatment. Being devastated is a bad way to fight illness.
reply by tealstar on May 25, 2019 10:51 AM ()
I had my first experience with grief when I was 17 and my first boyfriend was killed. I am as threatened by mortality as anyone, particularly as I reach the age when it can happen, but it doesn't keep me from being there for those who grieve. This is a condition that is excruciating. How can anyone let a friend go through that alone?
reply by tealstar on May 25, 2019 10:49 AM ()
Very touching. I've heard the grieving say, "Why won't anyone say his name anymore?"
comment by jerms on May 24, 2019 6:43 AM ()
Those who knew and cared for Jay are also gone. He was 21 years older and his closest friends were nearer his own age. That too was hard to take. There are very few now who remember him at all. Almost every year for the past 5, a friend of his passes -- their obits are national news as they were all prominent sci fi writers. Tempus and all that.
reply by tealstar on May 25, 2019 10:56 AM ()

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