Utah wedding

Lynn was married last week. I traveled to Utah for the wedding, stayed at my parent's house, played with my nephews, and traveled to Southern Utah with the wedding party and led people on hikes.  On Friday I returned to St. George and spent time with Lee.


I'm okay. I worried that I wouldn't be. The first few days were difficult. The day of the wedding was difficult. I couldn't do anything right. I was wound tight and was ready to bolt. Run. Drive away to Nevada or Mexico. It was a grim business painting my toenails and preparing my face and dress. Once I was actually there, though. Once I could simply remember that I was there for Lynn, I was okay. It's clear how deeply she and Dan love one another and I can honor and support that. I'm glad there is something beautiful in the world. I played the guitar and sang as they asked. Carla Bruni's "quelqu'un m'a dit". And I danced.

I liked the crowd of people: a group of artists and performers from California and New York. They were like a flock of bright birds in this Utah desert. I particularly liked Jon, the "Man of Honor" and his boyfriend, Chris. They were a lovely couple. Jon saw the sadness in me and fell in love with it. I suppose that is the beautiful thing about artists: they can see beauty where the rest of us would excise the defect, if we could. Jon is a costume designer and a Buddhist and he talked to me about "finding a different source" for the things I needed. "You keep returning to a door that's closed."

I was able to spend some time with San - and I was grateful for this. It was my first time back in the house since Michael died. It seemed to me that he was in every room.

I've just arranged to fly to San Diego to see G. Two weeks ago, I had the worst dream that he was gone and that I'd missed the chance to spend time with him. So I called when I woke up, sick to my stomach and heart pounding. I learned that his fucking cancer is back. I knew it would come. I just didn't want to believe it. I want to imagine that he will always be invincible and chilling out on a boat someplace.

I gave him a list of dates when I could come and he chose the closest option - next week. So I'm going. I want to see him while he's still good. He won't want me to see him when it starts to look bad. He'll want to play, "make believe". He'll want me to pretend that everything is okay. I will do that for him, if I can.