After my last visit to see Debbie (see here and here) she commented several times how much she had enjoyed my visit, and that I was welcome to come back. So I took that as a hint. This week I am back in Sticksville for another training class, so I flew in on Saturday and spent the weekend with Debbie instead.
As usual, it was a quiet weekend … last time I called it a "Sabbath" and that's not wrong. We visited with her daughter and son-in-law and their son (now about one-and-a-half years old). We meditated together. We went to church on Sunday. It's too cold to work in the garden and anyway she says the season is over: they've already gotten the first frost. We cooked. And (as always) we didn't fuck. We didn't even kiss, because Debbie had a cold and didn't want to give it to me.
And then we watched a movie on Netflix, one she called "one of the sweetest movies she has seen lately": "Our Souls at Night" with Robert Redford and Jane Fonda. (See this article here for one review.) She's right. It is a sweet movie -- about a man and a woman around the age of 80, who are neighbors and who finally discover each other at a deeper level after living across the street for 40 years. And I'm left wondering … is she trying to say something?
You remember that during my last visit we read aloud Walt Whitman poems to each other. This time we watch Robert Redford and Jane Fonda slowly falling for each other on-screen. But she made no move to cuddle with me on the sofa as we watched, and she was careful to put me in the same guest bedroom where I have always slept. So … is there a deeper meaning to these things? Or maybe not? It's hard for me to say.
And perhaps I don't need to know. But it is always pleasant to visit with her, and she always seems to feel the same way. It's all good.
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