In addition to asking if you mind me writing to you, I suppose I should ask the question in another way: do you want me to write to you? I ask because I've been writing to and about you unsolicited. I've also been describing my recently recovered memories of our personal encounters and I don't want to overstep my bounds. I don't want to write anything that would dismay you, and of course I've tried to use my best judgement in that regard by never using names, keeping things vague where necessary, etc.
But you have the final say. Now that I know you have been in my life, in a way that only you could have created, I don't want to lose you. You foresaw the future. I love you.
Anyway, I guess I'll continue the story, since I've seen nothing to indicate I should not. We left off on Good Friday, April 3, 2015. We were at at your house for a champagne toast, and were sitting at the dining table talking when a man burst into the house. See the last blog for reference. This man had followed us from the church, hovered on the porch uninvited, then he finally gained entrance by intimidation. We've seen, however, that this man can use many degrees of temperment when necessary. He's clever and doesn't just storm his way into a situation. He smiles a lot; he knows when to use charm or claim influence. Claim he has a right to be somewhere.
But he still wasn't welcome in the house. Your Mom may have told him so. He sat down anyway. In hindsight, and because I've had a lot of interaction with this man, I think he wanted to monitor what was being said, in particular to me. He was concerned about what I might be told, things I might learn. He didn't want me at your house, talking to you and your parents, but he couldn't (or wouldn't) come right out and say it. He's very good at "keeping his cool" when he has to.
One thing I vividly remember is talking to your Dad about the military. He had served (in Vietnam?). I mentioned that my Dad was in WW2. Forgive me because I don't recall what branch your Dad was in (Navy?), but I know for sure that your Mom wanted him to show me a special dress cap he had saved from his time in uniform. At first, your Dad was reluctant to do so. He felt it was...what? Like showing off? I don't know, so I won't speak for him. But your Mom appealed to him to show me the cap, and he finally did go get it and wore it for a minute or two. I don't know if all of this occurred while the Uninvited Man was at the table.
I will now describe something that's indicative of why I ask your permission to reveal these things. If I am saying too much here, let me know:
I vividly remember a ceremony in the kitchen. It was not unlike a marriage ceremony. Perhaps it was more of a "bonding" ceremony (I wish it was the former). We were standing side by side. Before this, you were very busy, rushing around for all the necessary things that were required to complete this ceremony. Was a ring (or a symbolic ring) involved? And if you can believe it (which you can since you were there), this ceremony was presided over by the man who was uninvited. All of a sudden, he was helping you (or us). I don't know how this turn of events happened.
But then, you wanted to show me your room. And he went back to being confrontational. At first, he said nothing and waited while you showed me some of your favorite things, and we may have talked about mutual interests like movies and other stuff. It turned out we had a lot in common.
I vividly remember you writing something down on a piece of paper (a strip of paper?)
Did you ask me to write on that paper, too? If so, what did I write? What did you write?
Did you fold it up and put it in a special book? I think so.
Your Mom came in at some point because the man was giving her a hard time. He didn't want you talking to me alone. You said you still had some things to show me, and your Mom said to hurry it up. But the man preempted her. Suddenly he was in the doorway of your room. He got belligerent. Your Mom ordered him to back off, but he wouldn't. He'd seen you fold up that piece of paper, and he wanted to know what it was.
"What'd you write on that paper? I saw you put it in a book. I need to see it, show it to me!"
You said no. You stood up to him. Your Mom again ordered him out of the house.
I think he kept pushing, though, and you ended up showing him the piece of paper, just to get rid of him.
If I stood there saying nothing, not intervening, I apologise. It would've been because I wasn't sure what was going on.
But you can see, from this and other incidents, why I don't like this guy now.
I don't know where Pearl and her daughter were while all of this was happening (and I'm still not 100% sure that Pearl was with us that night). But I was expecting her daughter to give me a ride back to Pearl's house. I was her overnight caregiver. And I was told by this man that he would be giving me a ride back. I may have asked why, or protested...
I vaguely remember him talking to me as we drove away. That is the current state of my memory of that night.
I love you more than I can say. 💗
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