Trovatore Take 2, and Other Things

Today was the second (and final) Trovatore rehearsal.  We started from the top and included the narration.  I didn't feel that I sang as well as last time (although I was much more secure with rhythms, tempi, etc.) but that may have been because I was being more self critical. Mostly I wasn't happy with the last B flat at the end - it went straight - although my teacher said it was good, just not as good as I can sing at my best.

I will do a small amount of practicing tomorrow, then have a lesson Thursday (I am not going to choir practice) and then mostly rest.

My partner is not well.  Whatever she has is nonspecific, which is the problem.  It is not a worsening of her core illnesses, COPD and a-fib.  It is an overwhelming fatigue combined with her existence in a state that is always sort of halfway between being asleep and being awake.

A nurse is coming tomorrow to evaluate her.  I will do what I can but I really need Sunday and Monday to be blackout dates with no stress.  Whatever she has is not life threatening.  The best thing in the world would be if she could be in a rehab for several weeks where she was fed and exercised.  She does not do these things on her own.  She is also now constantly guilt tripping me about not being there.  Yes, if I seriously think about it the most important thing in my life is to cherish her for as long as possible, but if I don't throw my all into singing now, the window of opportunity will be past.

After the Trovatore performance I suppose I should have a moratorium on planning anything big (other than looking for an Advent/Christmas/Epiphany choir solo) until whatever is going on with her is sorted.

And on top of all this, I got a letter from LC.  Several months ago, I deleted a post in which I said I hated her because hate was too strong a word.  No, I do hate her.  I rarely hate people.  There were periods when I hated my mother, but really that has been it, certainly as an adult.  She wrote to thank me for a page I had made for a memory book for her 80th birthday before she slammed the door on me (and no, she does not have dementia, that is not what is driving any of this) saying in a  very high-handed way that as most of our 66 years of interaction have been good, she was going to keep it.  After hand writing (with my hands shaking) three really cruel letters to her and then tearing them up, I sat down and typed something measured and reasonable, but still filled with rage.  And I asked her not to write to me again.  Her initial smarmy "last note" email said she would "appreciate it if I did not respond in any way", but apparently she thinks that it's OK for her to write when she feels like it, which is just not on and needs to be stopped.  I had even given her an out several months ago by thanking her for the birthday flowers and offering to apologize if I had said anything offensive but she just repeated her statement that the correspondence "was not working for her" and wanted to leave it at that so that she didn't say something hurtful.  But then she thought it was OK to write again. My therapist said that the two emails she wrote sounded like childish passive aggressive breakup texts of the kind that millennials send.

I really can't think of anything I could have said that would have been so offensive for her to enjoin me not to communicate with her.  One thing I said in my letter was that she does not have the moral high ground, that dumping a friendship in the trash is much more morally reprehensible than talking about your personal problems when there's been a mass shooting somewhere.

Was I also responsible for the hideous end of this friendship?  I suppose in a way.  I thought she was the kind of friend (do these exist?) whom I could speak to (or write to) about anything I was thinking or feeling unless it was personally offensive.  It was her idea to have this type of correspondence - where we delved deeply into things.  I suppose that's always a minefield.  Next time if someone wants that kind of interaction I will be wary.  Or I just won't share things.  I will save those for a therapist or for these pages.  I suppose I hate her because I feel betrayed.  She got me to open up and then hung me out to dry.  I hope she sits with that letter I wrote and has a serious think about who was the really selfish one in this interaction.  And (LOL!) a masterful touch - I had bought a book of stamps called "pets".  I was quite startled to see that one of them was a snake.  So I used that stamp on the letter to LC.  Perfect!  Her behavior to me was just like a rattlesnake attacking me by surprise from under a rock.

Oh, and one last thing about Trovatore.  I realized that October is the perfect month for it, because with all the witches and curses and ghosts, it's a great Hallowe'en piece.