Caterwauling

A friend lost his mom three weeks after I did.

I’d told him then that I expected the firsts (holidays, birthdays) without Momma to suck.

But the seconds would REALLY suck.

Because they’d make it real that the firsts weren’t just a one-off.

I went to see Kamala Harris in Miami, on the final stop of her book tour.

It was … exquisite.

Especially after having to see Cocaine Don Jr. not once but TWICE this year, on my own dime and my own time.

Seeing Kamala … host Ana Navarro … and Ana’s dog Cha Cha loving on Kamala was so HEALING.

I sat with a lovely lady named Lynne. I told her about Don Jr.’s political aspirations that he’d outlined at the October event.

She was stunned. She hadn’t seen that written about anywhere.

I said yeah because I don’t want to lose my job. But it’s real and I want to warn all Democrats to STOP THAT SHIT.

In any event, Lynne asked me after Kamala’s event if it was worth coming down to Miami from Palm Beach.

I said oh, absolutely. And we wished each other luck.

What I didn’t say was my heart cracked in half twice.

First, when Kamala said the grief after the 2024 election could only be compared with how devastated she was after her mother died.

And second, when Kamala was sharing her Thanksgiving plans, particularly how she makes her cornbread stuffing recipe …

I thought, Momma will never make me her famous stuffing balls again.

I mean, I already knew Mom’s second birthday beyond the veil would be hell. So my ass was as far out of town as I could get it.

The second Thanksgiving … sandwiched between Momma’s Nov. 10 wedding anniversary, Gram & Grampy’s Nov. 25 wedding anniversary … and Grampy’s Nov. 26/27 (overnight) death date … is fucking me up pretty good.

Then to grieve the LEGITIMATE 47th president having the election taken from her by Elon Musk and dipshit redhats …

And to know there will never be another stuffing ball …

I’m rekt.

And yes I’m using crypto speak. Since that shit is pretty fucked up too.

The only silver lining to crypto being in the toilet is that Dem tRumps have lost billions.

They need to lose much more than that for me to ever give a shit about them.

Though I did watch Mr. “Quiet Piggy” swoon at Mamdani in his presence.

Like, the man was a registered Democrat till he realized the Rethuglicans were gullible assholes who would follow his diapered ass off a cliff.

But fat fuck seemed enthralled.

He doesn’t deserve joy. But I almost felt empathy.

Like, he’s had every opportunity to do the right thing, but now he has to let others fight the good fight. While he continues to be dead and dementia-addled and hated.

I do take some small amount of relief that Mom isn’t here to worry EVEN MORE about her hospital and doctor bills, which are going up for everyone thanks to Piggy President.

But that’s the only relief.

I miss her so much lately, I feel like I’m going to lie down and die myself.

Trump first, please. Oh god, if you’re out there, please please please let me outlive that whole fucked up family. Also let democracy outlive them all.

In Dancing with the Dead updates …

I dreamed I was talking to Momma about someone who has been a problem moving to the West Coast (of Florida).

She knew. I didn’t have to give her any details.

Saw this poem at the NoMa/Gallaudet station. Maybe an ancestor led me then, too.

She also knows someone else is finally ready (forced by a property sale, no doubt. I can’t measure how happy they’ve probably been to live in peace) to go with them.

Momma had always encouraged me to keep up with the meanie’s hijinx online. But I finally did a hard stop. And I asked her if I was missing anything.

She said same shit but you didn’t have to ask.

BUT … Momma said, once all the Clampetts have gone West … “She’s no longer your problem.”

I said for real? She’ll shut up about me.

She laughed. Oh how I missed that laugh!

She said no but don’t think about her again. She got her man away from you for good, and she finally feels that.

I love these conversations with Momma. Wish they could be in person for real.

But so much better than the silence that usually greets me when I could use a chat with her.

Hear that, Goonhilda? You won. Now, shoo.