What Am I Doing Here?
The People Who Miss Me, I Feel Far Away From
And those I miss most, I feel far away from.
Amy texts me today, out of the blue: “Happy New Year dear Anita. Miss you. Hope I can see you in 2025.”
I do not miss her. Why does she miss me?
I am a person, stuck in a socket. Of love. I have so much love. It’s hidden. Or misplaced.
Especially when it comes to my search for a partner. Which matters to me the most. If I could find “the one,” wouldn’t all of this be easier?
But. Every. Single. Time. It does not fit.
The timing is wrong.
Or the person is wrong.
That’s more like it.
Do you feel me?
Friday afternoon, day off. Slept in too late. But needed it. I still have a chance to get outside. And yet, here I am, missing the brightest time of day, by being inside. Somehow, when the sun shone at two, I was at my kitchen sink, doing dishes.
I stayed in. I knew, ‘Anita, get out. Run!’
I continued to do dishes. Pulled in by the zen. Of paralysis.
I text people. Do laundry. Occupy myself with tasks that are dumb and dutiful. And yet somehow, there is a placid mercy in doing the indoor rituals. Processing my entire week.
Now it’s 3:45, and I write.
I will yet get out.
The fires burn in Los Angeles. I think of those who are there. I think of those in Palestine.
I am closer to the Palestinians, as a whole. With the exception of my one friend in L.A., David.
I have followed Palestinians, carried them in my heart, for fifteen months. I have befriended Alaa, a nurse in Palestine. He is twenty-six years old, trying to get out. He’s had two birthday’s on 12/12 in Palestine, since the start of the genoicde. His neice, Hanah, who is now three, and has had two December’s birthday’s in Palestine, since October 7. His elderly parents (Alaa is the youngest of five) have atrial fibrillation and kidney disease, along with other serious health conditions. I have donated one thousand three hundred dollars to Alaa’s GoFundMe account in the last year, in addition to six thousand dollars to aid organizations for Palestine. I am not bragging. I am showing you where my heart is. Palestinians have suffered assaults and fires for 15 months, with magnitudes of less help than the citizens of Los Angeles.
Both places deserve love.
Where does the United States give help? It has given 17.9 billion to Israel in military aid since October 7. The State Department on January 2, 2025, informed Congress of an additional $8 billion weapons sale to Israel that will occur before Biden leaves office.
Why does the world consider some lives more important than others? I will never understand this.
But, I do. Not in human terms. In geopolitical terms. White people matter more. US hegemony is king. The United States demands resources and protection. The rest of the world pays.
This will not last fovever.
Meanwhile, I take comfort in my cat. I know that the comforts of home are not a given.
I text my friend David, in L.A. He is a screenwriter. He has a nineteen year-old and ten year-old daughter. I met David when I moved to Los Angles in 2011, brandishing my brief attempt at pivotting from doctor to screenwriter. This did not work out. My friendship with David did. I still visit him, from time to time. He is always funny. And he is the one who turned me on to Nate Bargatze, a game-changer, in my fixing dinner routine. “Alexa, play Nate Bargatze.”
Today, after accepting I have missed the sun, and settling in to a time of reflection, I send David this picture and text.
“Whenever my cat approximates herself to me, I feel as if I’ve had a windfall of a rare blessing.
I will call you later.
The comforts of home are not a given. Everybody in Los Angeles is on my mind. I read a story about a lady who escaped her house in Alameda, and she had to leave her pitbull behind. His remains were found in her burned-down house. Aunt Cheri was this women’s name, 64 years old. Her cousin emplored her to leave, and she left at the last minute. Losing a dog can be harder than losing a human.
David, what people are going through is heart-wrenching.
You are often in my thoughts.”
He writes back, “Thank you, my dear buddy. I love you.”
“I love you too, booger.”
Life isn’t fair. None of us even “deserve” to be here. None of us “deserve” homes.
It’s all chance.
What we can do is care for each other on this rocky planet. It’s a miracle to be here. No matter the hardships.
“There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” — Albert Einstein
