not resting in peace

In happier times, as they always say when they don't know exactly when a pic was taken.

Two of the three a year ago this week, overlooking Yankee Stadium, Bronx, June 2013

I went up to the Bronx knowing that it was almost exactly a year since I was last there. Elaine's birthday was coming up—it's on Saturday—and she was planning to go on a country retreat. Barb and I were alarmed by her obvious jaundice, but only Barb was brave enough to call her on it. I hid in sleep. Elaine got mad. "I have eyes," she told Barb. "Do you think I can't see?"
   What should we have done?  Probably by that time, nothing. The last time I saw Elaine was in September. I know because it's on my blog. Goodbye New York/Goodbye friends/Goodbye conversation that never ends.
   Well, that conversation ended. A month later I was on the Amtrak train home when Barb called, hysterical, to say she had found Elaine's body. I wrote this obit.
   I love Elaine, but I was mad at her. I guess I'm over it, though, because I recently dreamt that she and Barb and I were going out to dinner. "Elaine," I said. "I thought you were dead!!"
  Happy birthday, Elaine. Miss you mucho.