J Segal Design- Design a Life

After more than 6 months I received a condolence card from Elaine Rusinko and a check for $20. It wasn’t really a sympathy card; more a snarky note blaming me for not personally informing her that Bob had died. Pretty much all Bob’s friends and family followed him on Facebook, where I posted daily updates. A few holdouts like the Rusinkos couldn’t be bothered to get on Facebook or at the least have a family member monitor it for them, so I guess they didn’t find out that Bob had died. I called Elaine a couple times, and subjected myself to her insulting interrogation and sanctimonious advice, as if she was some sort of expert or had any right to interject an opinion on Bob’s care. Mind you, She and her husband George were some of Bob’s oldest friends- I mean the relationship was long. They’re pretty fucking old, too, but I digress. And tho Bob often travelled 60 miles or so to visit them, they never took much interest in his same-sex partner; namely me. Heaven forfend. See, T...

I’ve been spending time with my big brother lately. To some, that might not seem like a big deal. But the dynamics of my family are complicated, and simply being in touch with this or that member at the wrong time can easily upset the delicate balance and unwittingly cause a war. Granted, each of us has plenty of emotional baggage. Luckily, I have a van. I missed the opportunity to bring my father back into my life, and botched another relationship I won’t mention. Another sibling wants nothing to do with me, and my mom is so difficult we’ll just never be close. Despite these poor odds, I might as well try to for a bond with my big bro. He and I have something in common. Each of us has ended up alone, suffered setbacks, and in our 50s must once again try to dust ourselves off and try again. I had a soft landing, all things considered. And I have plenty of free time to be sure. He is struggling to find a real job with a living wage but doesn’t have transportation to go job hunting...

Sometimes people just need a good dump. Nothing else will help. Holding it in only makes things worse. No, this isn’t a blog about bowel movements. I’m referring to people having problems in some area of life and trying not to be a burden by dumping their problems on somebody else. That person is me right now. I need a dump. I’ve had a few challenges lately. Big ones. And I’ve done pretty well, considering. I’ve managed things pretty well. I even surprised myself at times with my ability to just do the thing that needed done. But I’ve reached my limit. Hit the wall. Fell in the deep end. Tried to carry it all on my back. But I can’t carry it on my own anymore. Even now, I’m resisting the urge to list the problems I’ve had in the last year. Worse yet, I’m sitting in a booth at McDonalds writing this and every time the tears begin to well up, I stop and lower my head so nobody will see.  People often see me as strong, and in many ways I am. Problem is I’m incomplete. I’m ab...