“ meow meow , ciao ciao “
Man .
I have known Ms camellia since 2004.
I ve met her a year after I moved in this area , she was 3 roads parallel to mine at the neighborhood , I met her while I was walking Marco and Lucía .
She was an energetic high 60s , blue hair grandma Moses indeed , driving an old but shiny Ford , and she had a husband that I barely met up until he died . He was retired Air Force officer , Ms camellia was a stay home wife all her life .
She was a gardener and a drinker . What a great combination , Ms camellia through the years will be working on her front yard w a bottle of something next to her , and she was very generous to offer me a glass always . I have had the worst wine at her front garden , and the worse vodka ever ♥️
When we first met , Lucía left her a good poop on her front grass , and this asshole here almost never carries bags . Well , both dogs , just like the ones I share my life now , they weight 10 lbs combined . Lucía was a 4 lbs of bones , a tiny italian greyhound , and I ve seen bigger rat’s poop.
Ok . Maybe I am also lazy . That’s fine and judge me , that’s fine
Ms camellia run out of her house that day , w her cat on her arms , and told me very clearly where I need to shove that piece of poop . And I was like , ok , no problem grandma , no worries .
I took my phone out of its case , used the case to scoop the problem , and asked her for a bag .
For the next 3 years Ms camellia and I shared a friendship that made me happy and made her laugh . I have never stepped a foot inside her house those 3 yrs , she never invited me . And she had never accepted my invitations to mine .
I will leave her street for the end of my walk w the kids , and will sit at her front lawn and porch and shoot the shit about pretty much everything .
She had one son that was in the navy , and in Japan at that time . She had 3 cats , and she will bring a different one every x outside w her to visit . It’s my understanding through r friendship that her husband was a major asshole , she was a major fun , and a major mouse . Meaning , she spend a life time “ sir “ this and “ sir “ that , and a life time as much as possible away from him . She was adopted child in her family , a charity case , and she knew . She was living in the area practically alone . Well . Alone w wine . Ms camellia could drink , I can tell u that much , but I never seen her drunk .
Her biggest fear was that she won’t be able to do for her self as she gets older . And her bigger smile was every x her husband was going to meet his military buddies , once a week . These nights Ms camellia will not be available , but I will still do my walk and I could hear music coming from her house . The old guy did not like me . I met him only twice , he wanted to know where my accent is from , I was 34 and more smart ass than now , and I told him I am from Mars . He did not laugh and I did not give a fuck , so
I said my goodbyes to Ms camellia on 2007 when we moved to Miami . Little I knew a divorce will happen less than 6 months later , and my behind will be back in this area . Life . Hilarious .
For the last 13 yrs that I live alone and 20 mnts away from my old house and life , I have visited Ms camellia almost twice a month . Her husband died at 2008 , and that was the year that I actually thought to check on her and let her know that i am alive and actually back in the area .
She was free , she wasn’t mourning at all , she had got 5 more cats , and better hair color ♥️
Her son was back in states and living in CT , and she was volunteering at CHKD . She also got to meet another group of grandmas and she was playing cards once a week .
I was still not invited in the house .
In 2014 on one of my visits I saw the cats on the front roaming , and strange people in and out , and big ass suv at the front . Ms camellia had a fall and broke her left hip .
I met the son and his wife , not impressed , but ok . Wife was bitching about the filth and the cats . I will like to mention that I am a huge asshole ( like u don’t know ), and zipping my lip is not always my forte . So I told her , “ and where the fuck u have been the last 10 yr to clean that filth or the cats . Maam ? “. Yeah . That’s me . I was asked to leave . But the son gave me his number and told me to call him .
I did . Ms camellia returned at her house 2 months later . She had some hired help once a week . Driving was out of the question .
From 2014 to 3 weeks ago , I visited “ meow meow “ almost 4 x a month . Inside the house , I have cleaned everything through the years , and mostly , meow meow and I have cleaned r guts , or it feels like
We have talked about everything inside and out , man , women we can sure talk . The last two years Ms camellia was totally incontinent and will pee the bed , and she will be so uptight about it . I told her is better than pee on the sand box?
Also the last two years she will not leave the recliner . I did most of her shopping , and I will get take out bcz my ass does not cook . She wasn’t eating much and breakfast was her biggest meal , w French toast been her favorite . Hello bakers crust and thank u for been open . She was happy w one week old French toast , until the next visit , and her tea .
Tea my ass . We had wine , her son forbid that , and I made sure meow meow had it ♥️. She was able to walk to bathroom to change her depends until a month ago , and she called that “ happiness “. I agree .
W covid , I took 8 weeks back in March b4 I seen meow meow . Me working at covid icu and wards it wasn’t the best scenario. The whole last 11 months I ve seen her maybe 11 x , but I bought her a tablet back in august and she got to face time me w her cats and also face time her son . Every time I seen her I will go covered head to toes , so fearful in case I kill her , in case I carry that shit and not aware .
She was also afraid that I will get sick , and r joke was “ bad cats don’t die “. I was bad cat . I was bad cat bcz “ u are 50 now . What r u waiting for ? A prince ? Find a good man , not an asshole like mine , meow meow !!! “
And every time Ms camellia will say “ meow meow”, I will say ciao ciao , ciao ciao Bella and change the subject .
Normally will give me that f talk when I ll be ready to leave , like something to remember until next visit , my job was to find a good man to “ meow meow “. ♥️♥️♥️
Man . I am gonna miss her .
I went yesterday to check on her , I haven’t heard from her since last Tuesday , and house was empty of cats and her . Nobody thought to give me a call .
I talked to son today , but also talked to her home Health aide , she died Friday night on her sleep . Aid found her Saturday morning .
Aide took all 3 cats ( all she had left ), to animal shelter .
I told her son that I will like to give him the house key as soonest possible . He said he is not coming to town , there is not a funeral to be as per her wishes , and I can leave the key outside in designated area .
As much as I wanted to go back at the house and sit there for few , I am afraid to do , don’t want anyone to think I am visiting a dead lady’s house while full of crap inside . So I just drove back again to her house , I took Diego boy w me ( what a faithful boy ) and I placed her key at fake stone .
No cats , no camellia , no meow meow , only ciao ciao , and I made it back home thinking , fuck this . If that’s all is left after 17 yrs pretty much of a friendship , then fuck this . I am mad at her . For about 5 mnt. Cant be mad at Ms camellia .
Next day off , I am going to get a plant for my patio or my front door . I am going to name it meow meow and I am going to say ciao ciao to it daily .
What a life .
She needed you, and you stayed even though her husband and child made it clear you weren’t welcome. Thank you for standing by her side. I have a friend from Chile and her greeting to me is always ‘meow meow.’ I’ve never heard of anyone else saying that.
You never cease to impress me.
Thank you for sharing your touching story. You and those very few who share some of your admirable qualities make this a better world.
To an odd degree I feel your loss and can somewhat relate.
When I was younger, I found it easier to dedicate myself to helping others with significant emotional needs then face my own self-doubts.
I AM NOT SUGGESTING YOU ARE QUESTIONING/DOUBTING WHO/WHY YOU ARE WHO YOU ARE. The following is simply an abridge narrative of who I am.
I found caring for damaged people an easier path to self acceptance then close self-reflection but when one I cared for at enormous costs (and dedicated shy of a decade of years of my life to) When she (an RN then PA - was fun going through her (mostly psychological self help books) no longer became a part of my life, I was left with a empty space with the question as to where to place my heart. After some futile "Free Yahoo" long distance dating experiences One 400 mile detour home batshit crazy theist then two also long distance non batshit atheist women (the later two wanted me to save them but both had more baggage then acceptable) It took me a while but I found it necessary to go back to the beginning of my childhood and examine every input and output line and decode the logic that built the program; why I made the choices I made and what defined me as who I am - - why I later sacrificed the possibility of mutual happiness (somewhat different story) and select a relationship that I evaluated as likely slated to not provide a positive outcome for me at the expense of a different (not noted) relationship with a significant likelihood for positive longevity and mutual admiration.
Your narrative shines light on your rare, precious and kind heart.
I have only once before encountered a woman with this honorable attribute at such a significant depth . She was an RN and her experience closely parallels the story you shared above. Joyce. Yes. That was her name. Despite trying to recall her name for many years, your autobiographical work, like a great book, allowed me to journey through your experience and in this case returned to that place and time roughly thirty years ago. . . . That time right out of college, 1st or 2nd year teaching. We met in the community band and became very close on many levels. . . that short time before I stumbled into another woman (also in community band and orchestra) that desperately needed someone to help her deal with the aftermath of her traumatic childhood and (not a significant factor) recent divorce, so, in a futile eight year long attempt to help heal another who was deeply hurt, I hurt Joyce by not being there for her. It seems like yesterday when it became evident to Joyce we would not spend our lives together. Every attribute of this long-gone world is again painfully clear. Joyce's tears again burn my heart. Her tears established the (standard) of not hurting another (or be hurt) I could deeply care about as a significant factor that prevents me from expressing the depths of my feelings to those I would consider brining into my closest inner circle. For example: Over a decade ago before her ND job dried up, I decided not to express a desire to further a relationship with a desirable young scientist. We were close (not physical (can't remember even shaking her hand)) friends. As I helped her finish a 4 day cleaning and packing adventure and we placed the last of he goods in her U-Haul she asked me (after about two years of mouthy week-end meetings) if I wanted to leave the state with her. I told her my parents were getting old so I would likely be needed to help them. Before she left the state for a different job we had so much fun together. Laughter, happiness, late night and day adventures including long trips across the country. . . how we spoke of the future . . . what a great mother she would make. Time with her was magical. It felt like I was young (early 20's again). I was careful not to include myself in the painting with a caring significant other and children and I never told her I desired her physically or could (would be willing to) dedicate my life with her as I didn't want to create the possibility of hurting her or (more likely as the age difference put me and the disadvantage) being hurt the way I hurt Joyce. A classical reversal of roles. Joyce had over a dozen more years on the earth then I and I had roughly a dozen more years on the earth then the scientist. The scientist's backup plan for a man and kid/s combo was dogs. Yesterday she Facebook posted yet another photo of her old dog who is now on it's last days of life. Haven't IM'd her in many years although she did (only once in over a decade) say hello (Facebook) a few months ago.
So now I sit alone and type in one of the spare bedrooms I converted into an office. I have one (married with children) atheist (rather sure I am her only friend as there are no scant few atheist in these parts) RN friend in town and one aging mother that lives with my brother (he has nothing intellectual to contribute) (her house). Anyone else I consider worthy of my time lives over a thousand miles away and in one case, I am bound by my (standard) to never fully express my feelings so if I outlive my mother, my world will be dictated by stuff. A lot of nice stuff but just stuff. I can take care of stuff but stuff does not care and will not care.
This made me so sad to read . I understood the words .
Thanks for the deeply human story. You have my deepest sympathy for the loss of a significant friend. I hope you got vaccinated. This world needs heros like you to stay alive and tell their stories so we never forget what happened.
This is beautiful. The world needs more people like you.