I'll Tell You Why I'm Pissed

If you've been reading much you'd see that I'm not really all that Pissed Off.

So what is the origin of the Pissed Off Housewife?

AIDS

AIDS pissed me off.

In October of 2006 I realized that my beloved Steven was on his way out. I spent October and November in a rage, sometimes a blind rage and I was desperate to not raise my children in a home filled with anger.

Hiding the rage seemed so important to me.

And Blogging was a good outlet. It never occurred to me that I'd have actual readers, I just wanted to scream about neglect and bouncing and bedsores. I wanted to remind G-d that we still don't have a cure for AIDS and ask why has he forgotten us?

But I now realize that he's never forgotten me and Steven is lovingly wrapped in his arms.

During the slow and agonizing loss of Steven my Mother In Law was diagnosed with Lymphoma, she received the same treatment that my Father had just a few years before.

The Cancer Club. It's a shitty group to belong to.

These last few months have given me hope and strength and joy and love.

When I cried so often that the tears just dried up Kenn sent me emails that made me believe in goodness and I softened and stopped wishing plagues upon the nurses. It amazes me how much those letters touched my life. There are two currently in my purse.

And when the bedsores festered the outrage you all expressed along with me was like a life raft to sanity.

Because no one else could see it all as being wrong and bad.

And in 2007 I'm emerging from a lifetime punctuated in black and white and for the first time ever I'm seeing it in shades of gray. Not everyone is good or bad, many of us (myself included) are both. This is strange for me and new.

When I walked the hallways of Cedars Sinai and demanded that they provide adequate care for a man I loved my husband would remind me on my way out that "A Pissed Off Housewife is most dangerous animal on the planet. You have time and resources to get the job done."

*curtsy*

And here I am. The Pissed Off Housewife, who really isn't all that angry anymore but I assure you it's not because I've accepted defeat.

Sometimes There are no Words

Kenn has lost his brother.

My heart aches for him.

Unchanged

Larry emails wondering if Steven could have possibly died of Hodgkin's Disease and the AIDS was a mistake.

Steven's partner calls because Jackie's being ripped off by the guy who bought Steven's business (no big surprise).

Heidi calls because she thinks Steven's partner needs help, "Steven trusted you with money you know." "Heidi, he was demented for the last two years, it was doomed." I tell her.

The dancing queens want to know if Eve wants a makeover for some E! show. I try being polite and then explain to them that Hubby would kick their collective asses if they tart her up. She's only 8, I explain, they're exasperated and think we're nuts.

I agree to have cocktails at Rage Thursday night.

I can't bring myself to call the family, the blood family.

I am utterly stunned that history is rewriting itself.

He had AIDS, his brain was gobbled up by a retrovirus. He was a good man but not a saint and he kept secrets from all of you because apparently the truth is too fucking much to handle.

I'm not answering my phone any more.

Kenn

When my heart was breaking into a million pieces Kenn stepped up with emails and support the likes of which no one else could have offered.

Please send him some love.

And prayers for his brother Craig.

Which automatically include prayers for his mother and his sisters too.

Every so often I read his words and I hope and pray I can be like his mother.

The world is better because of Kenn, read and you'll see a passionate man with surreal strength.