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She is upstairs, watching a chic-flick. I am downstairs, watching women’s college softball. We had a pretty good day together, had lunch, went to a thrift shop, and found a cool book on the collections in the Hermitage Gallery near St Petersburg. Then home. And a nap. And waking up. Then the dread emptiness I feel that we have no passion, an old age approaching with a void, waiting to die.

I texted with #2 son. His birthday is next Friday and he will be 30. Neither of my sons are her children. So I feel like there is very little glue to my “family”. The sons have different mothers. #2 son’s mom is deceased. The bond comes from my sister who is incredibly close to her nephews. The family gatherings at her house are special to me.

MrsCorC?, I fear, likes this jumble and junkpile of a house. It keeps my children away from her. She wants me for herself. And there is no energy, unless we are going somewhere. anywhere.