25 Years

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1983, in the tiny cottage on Lotus Street.



1984, 1985, 1986, 1986.



1987 = G, 1987 – Gette, 1988 at the street fair, 1989.



1993. Most of the 1990’s, I vanished into a life without a camera.



2001, 2001, 2002, 2003.



2004, 2005, 2006, 2007.



Visiting a daughter up north, 2008.

There are years when there are only single photos of us. Perhaps I didn’t think of asking someone else to take our pictures. In the early years, someone would usually snap us at a family gathering of some sort. Some years we didn’t have a camera at all. I cannot always find photographs of us some years. Lost years. This year we are going to Mohave’s open house I wearing my new pinky ring from a thoughtful man and bringing the camera too.

This year I’m the one not doing well. I forgot what this special day was. This year I’m the one not doing well. I forgot what this special day was. Tehachap sent a card. I had no idea what she was talking about. Afgo sent an email. Why did she email me, I wondered. I'm lost in the shell of myself with no one home.

I’ve been so preoccupied with my non-hip, my “this-doctor-and-that-doctor” routine that I forgot to look in the appointment book. He remembered. I didn’t. There have been years he forgot. Not this year. I can’t tell you how bad I feel about this.

I find the camera only skims the surface. There’s been good times and struggles. I’ve been on a dry drunk; he’s been on a dry drunk. All sorts of other problems and joys beset us, and we are still here….still together despite ourselves and our disease. I’m awfully glad he came to dinner that Friday the 13th so many May’s ago. I’ve beyond glad he puts up with me.