I awake, musing that I lead a charmed life. An utterly charmed life, not only enhanced by social media but made possible by social media. A life that would be impossible without social media. Last evening I shared giggles and outright raucous laughter with Flower Girl’s Wife and Flower Girl. Those are, of course, nicknames for a couple met on a boring bus tour of Iceland. They live in Southhampton – it is in the United Kingdom, by the way. Instagram enabled our video chat and without Instagram we would have met, perhaps had a good time together but never would have seen one another again. But FGW and I have stayed in constant communication and we consider ourselves to be “in each other’s pocket.”, we are best buddies and I have turned to her when in despair more than once. The same is true of her.
I look up that phrase live in each other’s pocket. Free Dictionary provides the following information.” If two or more people live in each other’s pockets, they spend a great deal of time together. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you have to live in each other’s pockets. It’s hard to explain how the two of them survived 23 years in each other’s pockets. Note: This expression is used to show disapproval.” Hmmmmmm. It goes on. “(British English) if two people are in each other’s pockets, they are too close to each other or spend too much time with each other: They live together, work together and socialize together. If you ask me, it can’t be healthy to live in each other’s pockets like that.”
I laugh uproariously to myself alone in my Marin County Inn – I guess I thought of the wrong idiom because we scarcely “live together, work together and socialize together.” We have plans to see one another, that is for sure! I certainly plan to spend time with this marvellous couple during my Grand Tour this fall. But the Grand Tour shall include visits to others. This morning on Instagram my London friend Shabez posted on Instagram a photo of she and her son.
She: My gorgeous baby son celebrating his 10th birthday.
Me: Happy Birthday young man.
She: Aww! He said thank you Aunt Alexis
Me: How utterly darling. May he have many more.
Now Shabez and I may have lived in each other’s pockets. I saw her daily when I lived in Dolphin Square, London, England, her brother owned the supermarket there and she worked for him. My goodness she was of such comfort and I supported her new ventures and continue to do so from afar. Our friendship has endured a separation of over two years. We have seen one another in December of 2017 and in December of 2018 when I visited London. Needless to say, I shall be seeing her during my Grand Tour.
Then I receive a Like from a distant relative in Edmonton. It is real distant and it takes time to sort it all out – she is my sister-in-law’s niece. We have not seen one another in years but I so admire her and her lifestyle. She is an attorney (as was I), she is a fabulous mother but enjoys a full life with multiple friends and interests. She included a photo of herself and two of her friends at a sporting event. I, of course, commented:
Me: You guys look like cheerleaders!
And then, as if per magic , this appears on Instagram penned by someone in New York
“Repeat to yourself . My life is great. Everything is happening for me. All of the things that I am currently experiencing are only taking me to the next level of my life. I am growing. I am getting better. I choose to believe in sudden miracles and unexpected blessings. I comment:
Me: Honest to goodness that is happening to me and in this very moment I am writing about that on my blog.
He: Write it! Live it! Integrate it!
Me: I do! I do! I do!
But there is much pathos surrounding these true stories). Of course pathos must become the word of the day: poignancy, tragedy, sadness, pitifulness, piteousness, pitiableness, plaintiveness, sorrowfulness. Wikipedia has a thorough discussion on pathos, read it as it is fascinating. It draws upon all sorts of sources beginning with Aristotle and ending with its use in advertising.
What is the poignancy, tragedy and sorrowfulness behind my true stories? Total alienation from my family of origin who brings me cheerleader, a disastrous London love affair that Shabez’s warmth brought comfort, a wedding that never came off. Flower Girl (the husband) was going to march down on his knees with a garland of flowers to hide his bald spot. Although I do remain in contact with the prospective groom, that relationship ain’t going nowhere.
But here is a personal touch. Yesterday I found shoved under my door several pieces of paper, taken from the scratch pad of this Inn. They were penned by an admirer by the name of Leo – they are precious beyond belief. Some shall be photographed and attached to this blog. I showed my package of delight to some of the staff and they were charmed as well.
I think of the Rolling Stone song You Can’t Always Get What You Want
.
I saw her today at the reception
A glass of wine in her hand
I knew she would meet her connection
At her feet was her footloose man
No, you can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometime you find
You get what you need
I saw her today at the reception
A glass of wine in her hand
I knew she was gonna meet her connection
At her feet was her footloose man
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you might find
You get what you need
The song plays in the background as I write, straight from YouTube to me. I am sobbing convulsively thinking of all the people, places and things that are lost to me. But there is no joy without sorrow. The relationships were doomed to failure, the London one and the impossible marriage. My family relationships were toxic and irremediable. A wise man asked of the family:
He: Do you miss them?
Me: No actually I do not. I did not realize that until you asked that question. You are so good at what you do!
If I was surrounded by family members, I would not be getting love notes shoved under my door, which was just what I need, come to think of it!
It is breakfast time, a buffet with many guests. There is a carnival like atmosphere at the Inn this weekend as a wedding is taking place at nearby Marin Art and Garden Centre and the families are staying here. I met the bride and the groom last night but it was not a bride and a groom – it was a groom and a groom. I am so happy for them as they are surrounded by those they love who are happy for them. In the next few days you will be hearing of a situation that is not as joyous as this. But I shall be there to cheer and do my best to bring joy to the occasion.
