Post-it Oct 25th

The few nights ago, my mother went over to my aunt and uncle's for dinner.  Uncle had surgery on his hip. Anyways, my aunt sent back this massive pan with the left overs. My mother finished everything off finally, and my cousin came to pick up the roasting pan.
I went outside for a few minutes with him while he had a smoke.

Walsh-:"Thought you went home?"

Me-:"I did. Came back on the weekend. Going back home tomorrow."

My cousin shook his head with this grin on his face. "What went wrong?"

Me-:"Nothing really, just found my place too quiet. Like horror film too quiet. Just came back for a few days."

Walsh-:"So you're leg is doing better then? You look like you're walking better."

Me-:"Yes my leg is as good as it's going to get. Just had a bit of a panic cause of the stairs and stop laughing. I don't know what I'm going to do about that, seriously. How am I suppose to live there when I can't even carry my purse myself up and down the stairs with me? Have to use a cane just to get up and down them. Changing subject now. How's everything with you?"

He shrugged and tossed the cigarette, pulling his hood up cause it was raining still. Had been half the day.

Walsh-:"Fine."     His sister is in rehab again, and his wife just started a new job that it sounds like she won't be keeping because her best friend is already talking about quitting.  His life is still more interesting then mine is.  "You know what I don't understand, why you put up with it?"

Me-:"You lost me there dear. Put up with...?"

Walsh-:"Mr. Scratchy never wishing you get well in all this."

Me-:"Ah. I see. None of the wrestlers who read me did either so..." my turn to shrug.  I know this had nothing really to do with me, he was upset about his sister.It looks like she may need a liver transplant once she's sober enough.  He said nothing just put his hands in his pockets and let out a deep breath.  "When I was in hospital after this happened, I was there what, five days; totally unable to get around, not able to get online. On the night before I came home, the right side of my body exploded with itchiness. So Mr. Scratchy was thinking of me, like constantly. I must have looked like a freak with the scratching. Anyways, when I got home after that five days, and logged online, I saw that there were major hits to the works I do, and some to a spot on the internet that I don't think Mr. Scratchy or my wrestlers read. But, it looks like they had in that last two days I was in hospital. And I mean like in a panic, cause they knew I wrote every day on the one spot. And they sort of went looking for me.  So, I know I was missed. Would I have liked a get well from some of these guys, yes but you know..." 

I sort of didn't know what to say or do. My cousin has always been the rock in the family that everyone else depends on. I haven't seen him undone since our grandmother died over a decade ago.

Walsh-:"And?"

Me-:"They worried. He worried. What do you want me to say?  Just because Mr. Scratchy or The Celebrity or The Other Guy or whomever else in the industry didn't say hi yet, doesn't mean they want me dead. Okay, maybe The Celebrity wants to duct tape my mouth shut but..." 

We talked a bit more about his sister, and then he got a call from his kids asking him to pick up some ice cream on the way home. He is not the same guy he was a year ago. He worries more.