His extinction changes the face of life for me
Dear friends,
When I come home after I’ve gone out (not that often), especially when I’ve had a few happy moments elsewhere, I just want to sit down and cry. There seems no reason to come home, no one here waiting for me, nothing to do worth doing, nothing to look forward to for real. Oh yes I’ve bought a ticket for a play at the Kennedy Center on Sunday, for next Saturday the HD-opera performance of La Boheme, I’ve my books here, films, cats, sometimes Yvette is here.
But he’s not and never will be here again.
If I don’t sit and just cry for hours, it’s because it feels so useless and hopeless and yet more desolating. It’s spring and I hate it. That the light is soft and days longer is awful to me, more time and prompting to remember that he’s extinct. I dread summer. We used to do so many pleasant things: go to plays, operas outside, concerts, drives. Even if I got up the courage to drive to Wolf Trap alone, now I can’t. A long hot desolate time ahead. That’s why I wanted that GMU course.
At home this morning good talk on line with friends about Trollope’s Claverings, about the “rage against women” as seen in ritual repeated humiliation and women beating scenes in films that win awards (and the women who enact them given prizes), about Austen’s last letter to Cassandra, screenplays. Then I look at the DMV letter and discover the two pages of forms I am commanded to make the doctor fill out “fully” (or dire consequences will result – and he tends to refuse to fill out these boxes fully and repetitively as they demand) are questions about my medical condition, demands that the doctor again (as he did before) he assert I had no seizures in the last six months, do not have seizures regularly, and such like questions, all of which ignore the reports that told them there was proof or incidence or occurrence of a seizure. They also ignored my statement — the female lawyer’s wry response was “it didn’t help you.” This reminds me of the papers on rape in the 18th century world I heard this past weekend. Whatever was put into the record is it supported the woman was ignored; what she wrote was treated as worthless or a lie, and the authorities went on to punish or shame or hurt her in whatever way they could if it was no trouble to them or they gained some benefit from it (the DMV people get a salary).
How can I move I ask myself? What will I eventually do with that $17,000 Prius sitting out there?
A married couple drove me home today so it did not take two hours back from AU. I did become so absorbed in Pride and Prejudice on the way to AU I actually missed my stop on the train! Luckily the trains in the Northwest come frequently and I just had to hop on a train across the platform and was back where I needed to be in 5 minutes. The few moments of happiness I have known in the past couple of months have come either from reading an Austen book or watching an Austen movie or watching some costume drama late at night where I am induced to forget that Jim is dead and is not in the back bedroom sleeping or half-sleeping, waiting for me to join him.
I did still make it in time to be part of the curriculum committees and proposed for next fall to teach a course in “Anthony Trollope and Travel.” I would do either two medium-length books, one a traditional Barsetshire book (say Dr Thorne) and the other a modern iconoclasic almost Henry-James like book (say The Claverings), along with a book of his short stories about being an editor, travels around the world, colonialism and the abridged version of his North America, a masterpiece of a travel book where his trip occurred during the civil war. The idea seemed to be liked. I also volunteered to get involved in a project about environment impacts that are devastating: I’m willing to do something about the cancer epidemic and other sickness and death from the spread of polluted water and land.
The two hours with my 8 students seemed to go well. I hope it did. I enjoyed it so much and felt like crying at the end. I learned that Ambrose, the young man I thought attached to the church, is actually an OLLI tech person so I can ask him to help me a lot over showing DVDs of films. I have a lot to say about films that adapt the books I can assign and the students took a real interest in brief excerpts. They asked me to bring the Andrew Davies’s 2009 S&S next week — this week I showed a brief except of 2010 From Prada to Nada where Nora and Mary are thrown out of the Dashwood mansion in West L.A. and travel to East L.A. and meet the Brandon handyman-artist who replies to Mary’s query, “Are you homeless,?”, “No, are you?”; and a longer one from the 1995 Ang Lee & Emma Thompson S&S where Marianne wildly walks across a vast green landscape to Willoughby’s house in the pouring rain and becomes very sick, nearly dying, and Elinor’s deep grieving. Still much of the 2 hours we talked of Austen, her era and S&S and anticipated P&P for next week.
Here alone in the silence again. Pusscat Ian does nuzzle my shoulder and comes onto my lap, and Clarycat settles down near me on her grey pillow.
Susan Herbert, Pre-Raphaelite Cats: from Home from Sea, after Arthur Hughes
3/28: 9:20 am: Better news this morning: my lawyer called; she contacted the DMV but they have not replied so she has told them she will request as hearing this coming Tuesday if they have not replied by then.
Sylvia
Under the Sign of Sylvia II 
I’m so glad you’re enjoying your course, and the Trollope and Travel sounds wonderful. I’m sure your students love you! And it’s a good sign you can read Austen on the Metro.
It is difficult to live alone, but you have a full life and you’re really doing very well. So sad that you miss Jim.
I know all those forms for the DMV are driving you mad, but it has to come to an end sometime, right? You don’t have seizures!
I don’t have a full life. What made my life meaningful is gone; there’s nothing there outside of books and watching films. I do get some sense of personal fulfillment from the teaching and to some extent going to the conference felt the same at times during the conference.
I hope that the DMV stuff will come to an end. Now this new lawyer didn’t return my phone call. I’m beginning to think the Kremlin is nothing to the DMV and worry I’ve thrown out a retainer fee on top of the price of the car. Why do they torture me? if they have no intention of allowing me to drive because they are determined to believe I am this danger on the road, why not revoke the license? why play such cruel games? I would not have hired a lawyer if I knew for sure it’s hopeless.
I am really beginning to find myself unable to work at projects and reading for periods of time. Most of my life I could stave off the depression, get out of it, by working, but this is so bad if I don’t sit and cry I sit and think about crying and my mind goes back and forth with worry, loneliness, grief, frustration. I ask myself, can I sell this house and move to where there is public transportation? DC is the only place in this area — and I have now observed public transportation in Northwest Washington (very expensive place) is good; NYC I would be even more locally alone than I am here. I have some contacts here, two daughters (one lives with me for now) and now this volunteer job.
The endless repetitive filling out of forms reminds me of when Dave was applying for disability. I’m incredulous when I hear about the abuse of disability benefits. It took a good two years of endless filling out of the same forms, again and again, and getting his doctors to also fill them out, again and again. It was solely because Dave knew the doctors, they filled them out; they were friends. What do doctors have to gain by this tiresome, repetitive, and tedious form-filling? I honestly don’t know how anyone gets disability. A friend of his also applied for disability last year; he thought he should get disability because he had cancer and had radiation for it. The difference is that this friend is still able to perform his job, in spite of the fact that he also has friends who are willing to take on the form-filling. It frankly makes me angry because there are so many people who give up in despair (who deserve disability); they don’t have friends who are willing to fill out forms again and again. Some doctors (and I’m sure, attorneys) even charge for having to fill out the same forms repetitively; it’s time consuming and someone has to be paid for it. Other attorneys only do this for a percentage of the disability payments, something doctors never do. Disability attorneys get $500 an hour! Insurance companies count on the fact that people will eventually give up in despair.
This friend has money and doesn’t need the disability payments. He wanted to retire, and the disability would be a nice addition to his income.
Well public transportation in my area is very poor — although I do have on foot access to many needed things and once I get to the Metro of whatever I need to get it is genuinely near it I can reach it. And the Metro is extending itself. But I am not young and walking is not that easy any more as I have arthritis in one of my knees and a bad lower back.
And cannot get to Kaiser without walking across highways if I take a Metro, cannot get to the Pen Fed bank without a high fee to a cab.
I did think that they wanted me to give up. The first set of forms was astounding — that I did it all was remarkable and due to my being in an HMO with all the doctors and tests in one building. I have only two sheets of forms this time but the demand they be filled out “fully” and what I see of this doctor’s unwillingness to do this kind of endless repetition is a deliberately set up obstacle.
Honestly I have no wanderlust as you know. It’s that I am so shattered by the loss of Jim and so lonely to be so immobilized on top of that. I can’t get to the support group except by expensive cab.
On traveling what I really want only is to visit friends and do things with friends.
I know about the impossibility of getting disability payments from someone where they are needed. Yvette has a category but all that has been done is giving us a Schedule A letter: all else is pretense (they do not help with getting a job, there is no support income for her). It reminds me of Dickens’s Circumlocution Office. They are there to get a salary and lie and lie and lie to justify the salary.
The criteria of need is a distraction. Most disabled people are not in dire need — most of them are not homeless so that means someone can afford to keep them. But often the money is needed for genuine living for the person not hanging on in the way an adult with no money coming in will if they are living with someone else. A very tiny threshold is given so that only a very few qualify.
DMV people who did this to me might not be glad to be told I am dead as then they would not have anyone to harass as an excuse for their salary.
Better news: the lawyer contacted me and said she has tried to contact the DMV but they do not reply (they are stonewalling) so she had told them she will file for a hearing as of Tuesday if there is no reply. She will tell them I had to give up a position at GMU this summer (which would have been paid) and have real trouble getting to AU and have been offered a position in the fall. That Yvette has not gone to the doctor after her one trip by cab to the Burke branch and then her work cost her $140.
P.S. The quoted sentence was written by Henry James after his brother William died.
Tyler: “Keep us posted, Ellen. I hope it all works out. I find it ridiculous
that one incident should cause so much trouble.”
Me: This real life story brings home what a lack of public transportation (which the DMV is well aware of) means, what it results in. The clue or key to all the stories of the DMV’s stonewalling, punitive attitudes and so in is they are well aware of how in so many areas of the US there is no decent public transportation.
Ellen, as usual you are right on the money with your take on DMV, cancer politics, lack of public transport, rape and overall misogyny – global – against women, the sense of extinction of the person you once loved and shared a long life with and had no intention of ever stopping – your Jim like my poor Larry. My hats off to you. Keep ’em coming. These blogs of yours are truly great writing and reading. Inspirational. Thank you.
I just wanted to say that with comments like Christina’s being left that any doubts you have about your the value of your work in regard to those things mentioned above should be expunged. Keep up the good work, someone needs to say this stuff, Ellen.