Jennie, Saucy and The Big Dog

I spoke with my Mother today.  It was nice to hear her voice.  We have not spoken for ages and it tends to be like that-months of no contact then a flurry of emails and phone calls.  I must admit that I have been keeping my distance from her during the past few weeks as the Sex Rehab show airs.  Hearing her voice brings up a great deal of…a great deal of…a great deal.  She sounded happy about the show.  Apparently my brother had seen it and all is well.

Whenever I write I wonder what my Mother might think and then that begins to get in the way of the writing.   I have to write freely and honestly and without shame.  I can’t do that with me imagining my mother looking over my shoulder shaking her head.

Relationships are complicated when you are me.  Perhaps I over complicate them.

I received an email today from some stray reader who suggested I was being passive aggressive with Jennie about our relationship.  I have not been reading what she writes about me but I can guess.

When we were in rehab we were pretty much inseparable but rehab is not real life.  We really helped each other in there.  I could not have done it without her.  When we left rehab we moved into the same building and see each other most days, when we don’t see each other we talk to each other and when we don’t talk we text.

There was a golden moment when we were best friends but then something happened that was totally beyond our control.

A couple of months after we left rehab my darling Big Dog was hit by a truck in the street immediately outside of the building where we live.  I saw her pretty much torn to pieces in front of me.  She lay on the sidewalk hanging onto life.  I ran upstairs and woke Jennie; she drove my truck to the local pet hospital with The Big Dog and me in the back of the truck.  She stayed with me as they put her to sleep.  I begged them to help her live but they could not save her.

The following day I buried her in the garden in Malibu.

One might think that this would have brought Jennie and I together in a deeper way than we had been previously but actually the opposite was true.

I simply could not bear to be near any of the people who had seen so destroyed by grief, as I was that day and the ghastly days after.  In many ways the tears I shed were not just for The Big Dog but also for every time I had not cried when I really should have.   I could give you a million examples but it is just too painful to list them.

For relationships that ended badly, for ungrieved deaths, for lost love, for a shattered childhood, for injustice.  I sobbed uncontrollably for a week.

So Jennie saw me like that and afterwards I couldn’t look her in the eye.   Every time I pass the place where my darling Big Dog was killed I am flushed with the same feelings.  Every time I see her I remember that day.  I revisit the same emotions and it is too overwhelming for me.  Can you understand that?  It’s not fair on her but it’s the truth.

Time passes and the memories fade but not that one.  It stays as fresh in my mind as if it happened yesterday.  I think about it every day and it tempers my relationship with Jennie, Eric and Hillary.   But it is Jennie who is most hurt by my distance and inability to connect.

Personally, I think we have a good relationship.  It is not without it’s complications and petty rivalries but we are close in a way that say an ex husband and ex wife are.  We have shared a remarkable experience and a tragedy.  It’s not her fault that I reacted so badly.  I just did.

I don’t want any of you to think that I don’t love her because I do and I am so proud of her achievements and her courage to step away from porn and the money she made and forge a life beyond that cesspool.  I have written here in this blog how much she means to me and how sorry I am that I can’t, at this moment, give her more than I do.