October 4, a special day for my siblings and me. It’s our mother’s birthday who unfortunately is unable to spend the day or receive birthday wishes from us since she’s no longer with us. Her birthday was relatively special even though not much fanfare was involved since I’m sure plenty of times she had to make her own birthday cake. Add the fact that she was married to my father and if the day wasn’t about him as most of the year was all about him, there wasn’t much of a reason for my father to be interested in it.

That’s how it was on Riverview Avenue back then. I remember ‘borrowing’ money from my mother to buy her a present, maybe a crystal potato chip bowl with an attachment for dip from Modell’s or Two Guys, a bargain at 3.99. Or slippers. Or yet another housecoat. One never asked my father for money because there were usually too many questions involved and like I said, if it wasn’t a present for him, what was the point? My mom was great. She was a lot of fun and had a great sense of humor. I can almost feel her presence as I write this. She was well liked by a lot of people.

She was human, and she had her faults. She loved to read and that was ingrained in my brothers and my sister. I recall waking up as she puttered about the kitchen, smoking a Marlboro, in her house coat, making breakfast, or at least making sure we all had something to eat before we left the house for the day. I can almost hear her singing along to WNEW 1130AM, which was her favorite radio station. Ted Brown, Gene Klavin, and William B. Williams were her favorite deejays. She’d make coffee while listening to the ‘melodies that linger on’ from the 30’s, 40’s and occasional 50’s and sit at the table as we would scurry about trying to get out of the house before my father would make his mad dash for the train.

She was usually in the position between my brothers and my sister and our father, and would usually have to defer to his will while trying to smooth things out between warring factions. Still she always loved us unconditionally. She didn’t have it easy. She was the only girl brought up among 5 boys, a loving mother and an abusive alcoholic father in the Bronx. She was an attractive woman who always had plenty of friends around throughout her life. She loved movies like ‘Now Voyager’ and ‘Mrs. Miniver’. She didn’t like the singer Jo Stafford.

She did appreciate some of the pop music that we listened to. I still have a cassette tape I made for her in the seventies of easy listening pop songs by Linda Ronstadt. Paul McCartney and Elton John. One year she and my father had gotten into an argument and instead of everyone going to Lodi for her birthday, we all met at my brother Frank’s house in Garfield. My father was upset and didn’t come which was fine by just about everyone. It was a lovely time, no pretense. Such a lovely time and we were all so comfortable with each other that someone could’ve lit up a joint. Alas, she had to go home, back to my father.

I miss her. I am now forty four years old. My mother would’ve been 78 years old today. I learned a lot from my mother. She was great. I hope she’s having a good time out there in the universe.

I was very troubled by the killings in the Amish school in Pennsylvania, I found it weighing heavily on my mind. I first heard about it yesterday when the first reports came in. I had been out in Pennsylvania Dutch country in 1976 with my mother. It was a fun, informative trip. They seemed like nice people who only wanted to be left alone. Yesterday this psychopath comes in and shoots a bunch of Amish girls, killing five and wounding five. I just can’t get my mind around such brutality. Three school shootings in a week? What the fuck is going on in this country, or rather this world, since a shooting just occurred a week or so ago in Montreal.

I walked out of the apartment after doing the usual thing, shower, coffee, cereal and when I got to the street I thought it was too cold, and it would be cold when I got out of work at the end of the day. So I climbed up four flights and I got my denim jacket and also my cell phone which I didn’t even know I had forgotten. By the time I got back downstairs I was exhausted. Then I went to work this morning and with each passing moment felt worse and worse I walked to the Path train, feeling totally out of sorts. With each step I sweated and felt more and more tired. I slept really well, and didn’t have any difficulty waking up.

I had gotten to the Path station as a train was pulling in and wondered where everyone was. I thought it might’ve been a holiday but it wasn’t, I had gotten on the wrong train. The train that was about to leave was getting crowded so I got up and walked over and got in. I could only lean against the wall I was so fatigued. I got off at Ninth Street and walked down Sixth Avenue to work, bones achy and drenched in sweat. I texted Felicia that I wasn’t feeling so good and didn’t think I would last the day. She texted back that I should hang in there. I tried focusing on the computer screen to start organizing the day and couldn’t figure out where to start.

I was able to start up the office, talking to one or two people who remarked that I wasn’t looking so well. I took that to heart as I changed my t-shirt. I wandered around the office as if in a dream. One person that I work with Raige Piney, started asking me about conference rooms and I tried my best to help her, while trying to explain that most every room she wanted had been booked by someone else. She insisted that I move them around and I did my best despite the fact that the people who had originally booked the rooms were not in yet. Not that it mattered to her. She seems to get what she wants and it is my job to see that Raige, gets what she wants.

After appeasing Raige somewhat, I started fading fast. I told Felicia that I needed to go home and she wasn’t too keen on the idea, but I wasn’t going to be much good to anyone at work, in fact I would probably make things worse. Reluctantly she let me go and I grabbed my gear and split, riding back to Hoboken on a nearly empty Path train. Came home, called Bill and went to bed where I slept about 4 hours, after taking my temperature which turned out to be 96 degrees. I feel a little better now, not 100% but plan on going in to work tomorrow. I feel guilty about leaving work so early, but there was nothing I could do and no real reason for guilt. I hate being sick.