It was November of 2014 when Peter and I moved in to Chateau PM, our happy, beautiful lofty little place in the City of Tonawanda. It was one of the coldest winters in recorded history, but we didn't mind that so much. 
We carefully shopped for and curated our little place with items old and new, thrift and antique shopping, and filling in with eclectic little finds along the way. Artwork, furniture, or measuring cups, we picked it our together and found its place in our little home. 
We made great warm and beautiful dinners together. Well, mostly he cooked, and I set a beautiful table, picked the music, and cleaned up. We both felt like we won the lottery as we talked for hours on end about everything and nothing, many times late in to the night. 
On the snowiest nights we would just start walking and see what groovy little places we would find in our charming little neighborhood. Even in the winter, the City Of Tonawanda has some amazing scenic water views. It also has an eclectic mix of restaurants, shops, and lots of fun to be discovered if you only look for it. 
Some nights we might stumble upon and old pub filled with characters, or a great band playing. Some nights we would eat in beautiful restaurants, often getting to know the owners or other diners. 
We would walk home enjoying the softly falling snow and the moon and the water views. Usually holding hands and talking about our experiences of that day or night. 
We had friends over for great parties, brunches, small dinners. We both loved when our friends would play music on our piano and or guitar. A few times we even sat down and jammed (poorly) together. We had a blast. 
When the spring came we planted vegetables and flowers in pots , and got involved in our community garden. We went to hear local and national bands. We went to see show and plays. We had picnics, and rode our bikes to watch the sunset almost every night. Then we would sit on our little stoop porch among the plants and flowers and look up at the stars, sometimes sipping wine and always sharing stories.We talked about books and movies and politics and told the stories or our lives. We made all kinds of plans for the future.  
We enjoyed great times with our family, friends, and even strangers. 
Our home was bright with color and with spirit. We had figured it out. We felt almost like we were getting away with something that others hadnt figured out. We were madly and crazy in love. We thought that we had discovered the secrets of the Universe.  
This is "The Middle," and all I feel like talking about today. There is much more to our story, including our fun and crazy start, our incredibly strong love through all kinds of obstacles we could not have foreseen, and where that led us and what it taught us. 
This is what I felt like thinking about and sharing today. 

I have been in a relationship with my boyfriend for somewhere between two and three years. Nobody really knows exactly how long. We came together as: we were just supposed to be fun, friends,no-big-deal thing. At some point we realized we never had enough time to talk, even if we talked all night. And we had pretty much ten lifetimes of adventures that we wanted to do together. Eventually we moved in together. For about two years, we had the best relationship that we, or anybody else, could imagine. Every day an adventure. Talk every little thing over. Find new and amazing things to do every single day. We made our friends sick with how happy we were. We both brought life, joy, and color to each others' lives. 
A few months ago, Peter started acting differently than the person I knew. He didn't want to do anything, vs up for anything. Where he used to be a huge sweetheart, he was mean. I don't mean abusively mean, I mean: "here was this amazing guy, and now hes kind of a dink." All he wanted to do was sit on the couch. He didnt want to have our talks. He wanted to be alone. Period.  Where we had beautiful meals together every night, he didn't want to sit with me and eat. Eventually, he didn't even want to eat. I very seriously pondered moving on. I had no idea that he was sick until it was impossible to ignore. I am so glad that I didn't "move on!"
Once I finally realized that he was sick,it took my every trick that I had in my book to get him to the hospital. Jaundiced, exhausted, and as far as the doctors told us, close to death, he insisted on going to work for a solid week after everyone around him knew that he was sick. Stubborn Irishman. 
When we finally got to the hospital, the doctors said that he very nearly died and that he, by their numbers, should not be alive. They worked to stabilize him. Three times, they told me to say goodbye to him. Three times, I said, " thank you for telling me all of the possibilities. " And then I told him, in his ear, " you are not ready to go yet. If you see a white light, run the other way. If you see Danny, ( his brother who died recently of a similar disease) tell him you cant be with him yet. Run, and fight, and with all of your strength, go the other way. Be with your family a while. Be with me. Be with Jessica (his niece and goddaughter.) " I did tell the one doctor that kept telling me that he was going to die to eff off. Not much of a swearer, but I did that. I did. 
Peter came out of the hospital with the knowledge that he needs a liver transplant. Two days out of the hospital, he checked in to his employer. He was up to doing light duty. They fired him. That is all that I will say about that. 
We spend our days making sure that he is OK. My mother hangs with him when I am at work.  Unemployment, disability, we have received $0 so far. He was fired on 4/25. His copays keep coming in. We still have normal living expenses, ie: rent, utilities, food, copays for all of his stuff. I am not writing this to complain about money. We have a huge support system of our families if we need it. Not the point. Two, above average intelligence humans navigating the system of insurance and the medical community=at our wits end. 
As far as Peter goes, he is brave. He fights hard every day to get himself better. He has moments when he is confused. He wakes up in the middle of most nights in states ranging from foggy to frighteningly confused. We are told that this is standard with his disease. He comes out of confusion, every single time, plotting about something nice that he can do for a family member or friend. He adores his family and wants to reconnect with his best friends in a more meaningful way. That is his focus. He loves his plants, he loves our dog. He wants to leave his mark on this planet for doing good. He quotes St Francis; "make me an instrument of your peace," every day. 
Where our days were filled with bikerides, walks, going to hear endless bands, culinary adventures, etc., our life is making sure that he is ok and that we cover all of our bases medically, nutritionally, and to make sure he is happy and entertained a bit. Days off are doctors' appointments. He has an entire team looking after him. 
Lessons learned: 
1) Its tough to be this sick. Its horrible.
2) Its tough to watch somebody be this sick. Its horrible. 
3) Its tough to navigate the medical community, insurance companies, and help for 'displaced' workers
4) Its all kind of horrible. I do not recommend it. 
At the same time:
1)We appreciate small moments of beauty, like a meal prepared and eaten, or a sunset, or a doggy cuddle. We REALLY appreciate my mother. BIGTIME. 
2)We have seen unbelievable help and support from our friends and families. We have both become closer to the closest people in our lives. 
3) We both better understand what our friends who have survived grave illnesses have faced and can better support them. 
4) There are beautiful moments where he feels strong. In those moments, he is at his best. Smart, imaginative, loving, and wanting to save the world. Beautiful. 
I didnt think that I would write about this. It seemed too grave for a very long time. I have decided that we are not the first, wont be the last people who are facing this. Others facing similar circumstances might need a kindred spirit in writing or in life. 

In a rare moment of unplanned splendor, I made no plans for my day off. Except, I was planning on going to this estate sale and walking my dog.
I couldn't find the information for the estate sale on my computer, and only remembered that it was on Goundry. Well, thats easy. Goundry isnt that long of a street, Ill just drive on Goundry. I saw all the cars, , and parked mine. In an odd twist of fate I had parked in front of my first ever apartment! This was a beautiful place in an old mansion.It looks pretty much the same! I lived on the third floor. It had a purple clawfoot bathtub and bright yellow cupboards back then. Made me think of the old Barenaked Ladies song, "The Old Apartment. "

So I walked the couple of blocks to the estate sale, only to find out there was a line out in the cold. I have been to many estate sales, but I have apparently never been there on the first day when they open. Anyway, I decided to wait. I quickly made friends with my "line-mates" and it wasn't so bad. 
When I saw the ad for the estate sale, I was drawn in by the great photos of the "mother-load" of vintage finds. What I did not anticipate: seeing how much 'stuff' this woman had accumulated made me want to purge, not purchase. Still. I enjoyed walking around, seeing the beautiful clothes, decor, and housewares. I decided that would be my entertainment whether I purchased anything or not. 
Turns out, I found a few cool things and bought them:

This ring was my cup of tea and coffee. Yes, it went home on my finger. 

This painting. How could I not buy this?

This vintage tablecloth in kind of a Beverly HIlls Hotel vibe. 

And, finally, this ashtray. No I do not smoke. I love the look of this, the beautiful ballerina,how she is sitting at the edge of the pool. I feel like I can use it for jewelry at my bedside or something else fun. 

Next, I stopped at Squires for lunch. Squires is a place that looks like you could have walked in during the 1960s and it would not have been all that different. The food is simple, as my dad would say, "gin mill" food. Still, they have a veggie burger there. And the bartender, Elaine, builds a beautiful cocktail and is lovely. 

I stopped to see my girls, Julie Ann and Meagan, at one of my favorite haunts, Cats Like Us, and got the socks that I had been coveting: Raining Cats and Dogs socks!

I then came home, and walked my beautiful pup around a winter wonderland. The water views in the City of Tonawanda and North Tonawanda are just incredible all year 'round.

And then came home to read more of the book I have been reading, and am completely fascinated with,and prepare for a fun evening with my love. 

The day isn't even half over, and I have seized it. Clearly, I need to "not make any plans," more often! 

Every once in a while, I feel sorry for myself. My marriage didn't work out, I went from a house to an apartment, I had to figure some stuff out. Blah blah blah. 
Now, OK. Sometimes I am disappointed about the past. At the same time, I am in a place close to the water. Where I have always wanted to be. With someone who genuinely loves me. And loves me well. A brilliant, complicated, hilarious man. Who loves talking and listening. And being with me. I have a beautiful and amazing dog. I am making plans for all kinds of stuff that I had given up any hope for. And there is a lot of stuff!! Wait til you hear all of it! 
My life is so different now. In the summer, we walk to the water and hear music. In the winter, we take the pup to the dog park and then maybe walk around town, hear music, visit with our friends. Our apartment is in bright blissful color.We host brunches, dinner parties, cocktail parties.  He welcomes not only my family and friends, but embraces people from my past who most people would forbid or eyeroll/reject. 
Everything, and I mean: everything, in the world is possible now. Everything. 
So, Universe, I don't know why you had to put me through all that, because it was fantastic, then it was excruciating, then I moved on. But OK. As Hannah Marcotti would say, #ilovethislifenow. 

I am not going to address my two year hiatus from writing. Well, I will. But in little stories that come out here and there. I am not going to write a long "catch up," or update. It will be pretty clear from my writing that things have changed an awful lot in the last couple of years. A move. A love. A puppy. Lots of new friends. And lots and lots of adventures. I haven't been "sleeping at life" during my hiatus from writing. Rather, I have probably lived more adventures in these last two years than I have at any other point in my life. But I don't have to tell them all at once. 

The brilliant Peter Kelleher+me.                   Bridge at Canalfest photo by Richard Gleason              KD Puppy

The format of this blog is not going to change. Its going to be me writing about whatever I feel like writing about, whenever I feel like writing. I hope you will join me in jumping back in the water. I love to swim, and I hate to swim alone. 

I started the book. 

I have had the bones of it in my head since midsummer.  But then incredibly interesting stuff just kept happening. Stories that just had to be in there.  I knew that I could go on like this forever. The voice in my head kept saying,” FORTHELOVEOFGOD. Just write it.  You can write another book with this additional material.”  But it felt related, all part of one continuous story. 

The book is about my incredible Alice in Wonderland type journey over the last year or so.  How I kind of lost myself, found myself again, and the amazing cast of characters that I encountered along the way. Adventures I never could have imagined. People and situations I could not possibly have dreamed up if I wanted to.  

I kept thinking that at some point there would be a pause or a logical stopping point. And suddenly, I knew. Today is the day.  I started.  It flowed.  I put a lot down.  I really, really, got started.  And now, I can’t wait to write more. 
 

I put this as my status update on Facebook: “I started the book.  Some of you are in it.” 

I laughed a bit as I typed it.  I wondered how many people would wonder whether or not they were going in the book.  Mostly, people who have crossed my path over the last year were pretty amazing, in the best possible way. I can also imagine just a couple of people turning white as a ghost upon reading that sentence.  I must admit I am human enough to relish the thought just a tiny bit. I will paraphrase a quote that I read somewhere:   "If you wanted to look better in the book, you should have been nicer to me.”  (*Side note: I was unsuccessful in finding the author of this quote, so if you know, please tell me) The good news about this past year is that the people who treated me poorly in any way are only minor or incidental characters to my story.  They may or may not make the cut.  They certainly did not make the cut remaining in my “real life.”

The truth?  I only know for certain that two specific people are going to be in the book.  Those two people are spectacular humans. The rest will reveal itself as I write it.  I am feeling wildly curious to see who makes an appearance! This is going to be the adventure of a lifetime.  I can't wait to take you all with me.