Maka is stepping up.
She recognized a void and stepped up to fill it.
When Max died that left Lakota as our lone pet. We kicked around the idea of a new cat but were not too serious about it. Until we were leaving the house for mirth and merriment one night.
As we walked out the sliding glass doors and looked back, Lakota was sitting in the middle of the living room staring at us. Immediately broke our hearts. We felt she was lonely. Made the immediate decision to get another cat.
That cat turned out to be Maka.
Now Maka is alone.
For a while after Lakota died we didn't discuss getting another cat at all, but the idea kind of hung in the air. Then recently Carol brought it up. She had been secretly browsing the SPCA website and she showed me a cat she found. The cat was perfect. Described as loving, happy to be around other cats, easy-natured. The cat was adorable.
But as we discussed it it became obvious the conversation was strained. We confronted it head on - do we really want another cat right now? We both admitted we did not.
Maka shows no signs of being lonely. Of course circumstances are bizarre right now and we are both home all day every day. So she gets all the attention and love she deserves. And she gives so much back.
But even before this fucking virus shattered our lives she was not alone a lot. Carol leaves for work at 9:30. I leave at 11:00 (on Mon Tues Wed). Carol gets home at 2:30. Not much of a gap there.
Thurs and Fri I leave at 5:30 but, really, there is still only 5 hours that Maka is alone. Not a bad deal.
Lakota was my sweetheart. She destroyed my bladder. She spent time in the box in the kitchen, she slept under the bed in the spare room, but when she got ready to settle in at night she would curl up on my left thigh and stay there.
I would have to take a piss at 8 o'clock and I would decide to wait until 8:30. Then 8:45. And, if possible, 9 o'clock. I wouldn't get up until it was emergency time. When I was done Lakota would come right back and settle on my thigh for the next sleep/love session.
And we had Maka, who would also curl up in my lap. So I was virtually guaranteed to have at least one cat in my lap at all times.
Maka is more independent. She warms my lap but she gets up five or six times a night. To eat. To drink. And likes to sleep on the footstool and at the end of the couch and sometimes in Carol's lap.
So there are stretches every night with no cat in my lap.
I don't like this. I need it. I have to have someone to give my love to. But it is what it is.
But Maka has a big personality. A gentle, loving personality. She is also insane and funny.
She fills the house with love. We don't feel like we are missing anything.
Me being me, I worry about down the road. We are not sure how old Maka is, but we have had her for 14 years.
When she goes I will have to get at least one other cat. I have to have a living thing to give my love to in a direct and physical way. Cannot survive without it.
Of course there is a possibility we will decide to get another cat while Maka is around.
There are options. Decisions to be made.
Right now Maka is Queen Cat. My little one. the little doll, cutie pie. Those are my nicknames for her.
Lakota was sweetheart and pretty girl.
Maka is doing the job. Bringing the love. Keeping us happy.
She really has stepped up.
Thursday, April 9, 2020
Sunday, April 5, 2020
2020
We did not celebrate my 66th birthday.
Lakota died on January 31.
Carol went into surgery on February 5th. 8 a.m. Came out at midnight. Fucking midnight.
We got to the hospital that morning at 5 a.m. So fucking early they wouldn't let us check in. Did that at 5:30. I sat in two different waiting rooms during the day. Started with a trickle of people, then a flood, then by around 6 or 7 at night I was alone. Alone. Even the administrative people went home.
As it got later and later, at one point, because of stress and fatigue, I began to think that Carol might die. I experienced that thought intellectually and emotionally. Especially emotionally. I felt so empty, so alone, so lost, thinking about life without Carol. I was devastated. And how would I tell my sons?
She went back into surgery on February 6. Five more hours.
Finally got her home on February 10. Her speech has improved but her face is still swollen and lopsided. Still. This is what this surgery was supposed to do. Get her back to normal. Hasn't happened. Breaks my heart every single day.
We did not celebrate our 42nd wedding anniversary. We did not celebrate Valentine's Day.
Now we have the coronavirus. We may not see our sons and their women face to face for 6 months or longer. Keith's 40th birthday is coming up on May 3. We won't be able to celebrate that. We have not even met Keith's woman, Krista. Plans were to do that after Carol bounced back from surgery. Not gonna happen for a while now. I feel like I have a member of my family that I have not even met.
Can you guess how I feel about 2020?
In the midst of all this, during this surreal break from reality, I am trying to find a new approach to life. One that will allow me to find happiness.
I have been exploring philosophies. Approaches to life. I found one yesterday that I am excited about.
I cannot handle the pie in the sky cliched bullshit that usually passes for self help. This is not like that. It offers advice about how to approach life in a way that will change the way you think. It does not sound phony to me; it seems practical.
My mind is my worst enemy. I don't think healthy thoughts. My self-image is destructive, not constructive. I am going to explore this thoroughly in the next few days to see if it fits. If it does, then thank fucking christ. If not, I will move on.
So what have I learned from 2020?
Man, you cannot take anything for granted. It can all be taken away from you in a heartbeat and the evil can come in a million different disguises.
When this is over my family is going to celebrate. One big celebration to celebrate all the things that did not get celebrated in 2020. To celebrate the magic that is this family.
A massive barbecue, maybe go out together to a great restaurant. I don't care what form it takes but it has to be special. I don't have to orchestrate the fun and the love because that is what my family is. When we finally get together it will happen naturally.
Maybe when we get together they will all think "Hey, Dad seems different. He seems happy. He seems confident and comfortable in his own skin."
That would be nice. But if I am not there yet I hope I am still continuing to explore. Still hungering for change. Still trying.
2020 has sucked royally. Worst year of our lives. I was born in 1954. That's a lot of fucking years. And we have had some tough ones too. Real downers.
1998 when our business went down the tubes and we almost lost everything. 2014 when Jonathan died. When Sarge died. 2015 when Kevin died.
There have been many deaths in my family and Carol's family.
We have had a lot of great years too. 1978, 1980, 1983 come to mind immediately. Many others.
We will celebrate again.
And it will mean more than it ever has before.
Lakota died on January 31.
Carol went into surgery on February 5th. 8 a.m. Came out at midnight. Fucking midnight.
We got to the hospital that morning at 5 a.m. So fucking early they wouldn't let us check in. Did that at 5:30. I sat in two different waiting rooms during the day. Started with a trickle of people, then a flood, then by around 6 or 7 at night I was alone. Alone. Even the administrative people went home.
As it got later and later, at one point, because of stress and fatigue, I began to think that Carol might die. I experienced that thought intellectually and emotionally. Especially emotionally. I felt so empty, so alone, so lost, thinking about life without Carol. I was devastated. And how would I tell my sons?
She went back into surgery on February 6. Five more hours.
Finally got her home on February 10. Her speech has improved but her face is still swollen and lopsided. Still. This is what this surgery was supposed to do. Get her back to normal. Hasn't happened. Breaks my heart every single day.
We did not celebrate our 42nd wedding anniversary. We did not celebrate Valentine's Day.
Now we have the coronavirus. We may not see our sons and their women face to face for 6 months or longer. Keith's 40th birthday is coming up on May 3. We won't be able to celebrate that. We have not even met Keith's woman, Krista. Plans were to do that after Carol bounced back from surgery. Not gonna happen for a while now. I feel like I have a member of my family that I have not even met.
Can you guess how I feel about 2020?
In the midst of all this, during this surreal break from reality, I am trying to find a new approach to life. One that will allow me to find happiness.
I have been exploring philosophies. Approaches to life. I found one yesterday that I am excited about.
I cannot handle the pie in the sky cliched bullshit that usually passes for self help. This is not like that. It offers advice about how to approach life in a way that will change the way you think. It does not sound phony to me; it seems practical.
My mind is my worst enemy. I don't think healthy thoughts. My self-image is destructive, not constructive. I am going to explore this thoroughly in the next few days to see if it fits. If it does, then thank fucking christ. If not, I will move on.
So what have I learned from 2020?
Man, you cannot take anything for granted. It can all be taken away from you in a heartbeat and the evil can come in a million different disguises.
When this is over my family is going to celebrate. One big celebration to celebrate all the things that did not get celebrated in 2020. To celebrate the magic that is this family.
A massive barbecue, maybe go out together to a great restaurant. I don't care what form it takes but it has to be special. I don't have to orchestrate the fun and the love because that is what my family is. When we finally get together it will happen naturally.
Maybe when we get together they will all think "Hey, Dad seems different. He seems happy. He seems confident and comfortable in his own skin."
That would be nice. But if I am not there yet I hope I am still continuing to explore. Still hungering for change. Still trying.
2020 has sucked royally. Worst year of our lives. I was born in 1954. That's a lot of fucking years. And we have had some tough ones too. Real downers.
1998 when our business went down the tubes and we almost lost everything. 2014 when Jonathan died. When Sarge died. 2015 when Kevin died.
There have been many deaths in my family and Carol's family.
We have had a lot of great years too. 1978, 1980, 1983 come to mind immediately. Many others.
We will celebrate again.
And it will mean more than it ever has before.
Saturday, April 4, 2020
Not Dark Yet
Great song by Bob Dylan.
The line goes "it's not dark yet, but it's getting there"
Popped into my head in Market Basket this week. The change in atmosphere was dramatic from last week to this week. I could feel it.
Suddenly there were signs in the aisles cautioning people to stay six feet apart. It was obvious that people were maintaining some distance. Some people were wearing masks. Once I came around a corner and came face to face with someone and we both froze. It was so fucking obvious.
We froze.
There was a running commentary over the loudspeakers. "Please stay six feet apart, please maintain some distance, we are getting shipments in as fast as we can, we are out of toilet paper but there will be a shipment later in the week, some shelves are empty or low - please understand that we are working as quickly as we can."
Tape on the floor at the registers indicating where you should stand.
Felt like a war zone. Felt like an emergency.
When the lyric came into my head I immediately decided it was inappropriate - it is dark. The more I thought about it the more I realized the lyric is dead on. It is bad, very bad, but it is going to get even worse. Much worse.
We are getting there. Getting to a world we cannot understand. A world consumed with fear.
Every time I leave the house I am afraid. Initially I felt a false sense of security because I live in the boonies. Now I know at least one person in Henniker has been infected. In fucking Henniker.
You cannot stay away from people if you have to get food. Period. You have to go to the store.
This past week I was out in public three times. Playing Russian Roulette with my life.
I had to pop into work briefly on Monday and Wednesday so I went by Market Basket looking for toilet paper. Struck out Monday, scored Wednesday. I'll tell you about it later.
Last night I popped into the liquor store and then picked up a pizza. I have good friends in the Hillsboro liquor store. I have worked with them. I don't go there often but when I do I get hugs. We shoot the shit. They were wearing gloves but not masks. There was tape on the floor at the registers indicating where you should stand.
My friend hugged me when I walked in; she always does. She caught me off guard - I was uncomfortable. I was talking to another friend who was working the register. I put my booze on the counter and stepped back to talk to her. Awkward, but they wait on many people during the day. They are being exposed all the time. She told me they are paying her $2.00 more per hour to keep working.
Sound like a fair trade-off? Not to me. I told her, as I have said to Carol a few times already, that I love my whiskey but I have no problem with the liquor stores shutting down.
They should shut down.
As I was leaving my other friend wanted to hug me again. I said no.
Over 7,000 people have died in the United States. And that is the tip of the iceberg. When we are done the number of deaths will be staggering.
I can't visit my sons and their women. It could very well be six months or more - probably more - before I get to be with them again. That has never happened to us in our lifetimes.
Absolutely breaks my heart to think that.
I don't want to die from Covid-19. What a stupid way to die. A heart attack would make sense, maybe a stroke. Cancer is looming - melanoma and prostate. The mine field has been laid.
But Covid-19? Fuck that. What a ridiculous way to go.
7,000 and counting.
It's not dark yet, but it's getting there.
It's right around the corner.
The line goes "it's not dark yet, but it's getting there"
Popped into my head in Market Basket this week. The change in atmosphere was dramatic from last week to this week. I could feel it.
Suddenly there were signs in the aisles cautioning people to stay six feet apart. It was obvious that people were maintaining some distance. Some people were wearing masks. Once I came around a corner and came face to face with someone and we both froze. It was so fucking obvious.
We froze.
There was a running commentary over the loudspeakers. "Please stay six feet apart, please maintain some distance, we are getting shipments in as fast as we can, we are out of toilet paper but there will be a shipment later in the week, some shelves are empty or low - please understand that we are working as quickly as we can."
Tape on the floor at the registers indicating where you should stand.
Felt like a war zone. Felt like an emergency.
When the lyric came into my head I immediately decided it was inappropriate - it is dark. The more I thought about it the more I realized the lyric is dead on. It is bad, very bad, but it is going to get even worse. Much worse.
We are getting there. Getting to a world we cannot understand. A world consumed with fear.
Every time I leave the house I am afraid. Initially I felt a false sense of security because I live in the boonies. Now I know at least one person in Henniker has been infected. In fucking Henniker.
You cannot stay away from people if you have to get food. Period. You have to go to the store.
This past week I was out in public three times. Playing Russian Roulette with my life.
I had to pop into work briefly on Monday and Wednesday so I went by Market Basket looking for toilet paper. Struck out Monday, scored Wednesday. I'll tell you about it later.
Last night I popped into the liquor store and then picked up a pizza. I have good friends in the Hillsboro liquor store. I have worked with them. I don't go there often but when I do I get hugs. We shoot the shit. They were wearing gloves but not masks. There was tape on the floor at the registers indicating where you should stand.
My friend hugged me when I walked in; she always does. She caught me off guard - I was uncomfortable. I was talking to another friend who was working the register. I put my booze on the counter and stepped back to talk to her. Awkward, but they wait on many people during the day. They are being exposed all the time. She told me they are paying her $2.00 more per hour to keep working.
Sound like a fair trade-off? Not to me. I told her, as I have said to Carol a few times already, that I love my whiskey but I have no problem with the liquor stores shutting down.
They should shut down.
As I was leaving my other friend wanted to hug me again. I said no.
Over 7,000 people have died in the United States. And that is the tip of the iceberg. When we are done the number of deaths will be staggering.
I can't visit my sons and their women. It could very well be six months or more - probably more - before I get to be with them again. That has never happened to us in our lifetimes.
Absolutely breaks my heart to think that.
I don't want to die from Covid-19. What a stupid way to die. A heart attack would make sense, maybe a stroke. Cancer is looming - melanoma and prostate. The mine field has been laid.
But Covid-19? Fuck that. What a ridiculous way to go.
7,000 and counting.
It's not dark yet, but it's getting there.
It's right around the corner.
Score!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I scored 18 rolls of toilet paper on Wednesday.
I had an orgasm.
I picked up a bottle of champagne and me and Carol partied until 4 a.m.
I wandered into Market Basket on Monday and struck out. Wandered back in on Wednesday in the middle of the afternoon and they were stocking the toilet paper shelf. How fucking random.
One six pack per customer.
I decided to turn on the charm. I can be quite charming when I want to be. Chicks dig me; it's a natural fact. I held the package in my hand and said to the woman who was stocking the shelf "One package per customer?" She said yes. I asked in my most innocent voice "What happens if I walk up to the register with two?"
She said "They won't ring it up".
Apparently I am not as charming as I used to be.
Flushed with success I decided to stop into Harvester Market in Henniker on my way home.
They had 12 packs on the shelf. Holy shit. I grabbed one and tap danced my way to the register.
I am a mighty hunter. I am capable of taking care of my family. Putting food on the table and a roof over their heads.
And buying toilet paper.
Fucking toilet paper.
I had an orgasm.
I picked up a bottle of champagne and me and Carol partied until 4 a.m.
I wandered into Market Basket on Monday and struck out. Wandered back in on Wednesday in the middle of the afternoon and they were stocking the toilet paper shelf. How fucking random.
One six pack per customer.
I decided to turn on the charm. I can be quite charming when I want to be. Chicks dig me; it's a natural fact. I held the package in my hand and said to the woman who was stocking the shelf "One package per customer?" She said yes. I asked in my most innocent voice "What happens if I walk up to the register with two?"
She said "They won't ring it up".
Apparently I am not as charming as I used to be.
Flushed with success I decided to stop into Harvester Market in Henniker on my way home.
They had 12 packs on the shelf. Holy shit. I grabbed one and tap danced my way to the register.
I am a mighty hunter. I am capable of taking care of my family. Putting food on the table and a roof over their heads.
And buying toilet paper.
Fucking toilet paper.
Thursday, April 2, 2020
I Could Be Wrong, But I'm Not. No I'm Not.
I am reading a book written by Judd Apatow called "Sick in the Head - Conversations About Life and Comedy".
Apatow has been interviewing comedians for his entire life. He started as a teenager, interviewing people like Jerry Seinfeld, Garry Shandling, Jay Leno. Imagine the balls it takes for a teenager to pull that off?
Anyway I am picking up interesting philosophies and quotes.
Jeff Garlin.
Apatow asks him if it's important to him that his kids are smart. Garlin says: "No. I mean yes, I hope they're smart and self reliant so they can enjoy life - but they'll probably be more miserable if they're smart. If they're stupid, they're going to have a great time. Because really, everything is created for stupid people. Books, movies, TV shows for the most part - they're for stupid people. So, they would be much happier if they were stupid. But I think both my boys are going to be miserable like their father."
Apatow: "So they'll be smart and miserable."
Garlin: "Well, they go hand in hand."
So happens that I believe in this philosophy. I have always believed I am miserable because I am smart. That's why I hate phony optimism and suck it up philosophies. If you run around with a perpetual smile on your face I am a more honest person than you will ever be.
Jimmy Fallon on being a parent:
"You invented this human, so you're like, I made the best human I can make. This is my Sistine Chapel, and I should be able to appreciate this."
Another philosophy I agree with.
Apatow has been interviewing comedians for his entire life. He started as a teenager, interviewing people like Jerry Seinfeld, Garry Shandling, Jay Leno. Imagine the balls it takes for a teenager to pull that off?
Anyway I am picking up interesting philosophies and quotes.
Jeff Garlin.
Apatow asks him if it's important to him that his kids are smart. Garlin says: "No. I mean yes, I hope they're smart and self reliant so they can enjoy life - but they'll probably be more miserable if they're smart. If they're stupid, they're going to have a great time. Because really, everything is created for stupid people. Books, movies, TV shows for the most part - they're for stupid people. So, they would be much happier if they were stupid. But I think both my boys are going to be miserable like their father."
Apatow: "So they'll be smart and miserable."
Garlin: "Well, they go hand in hand."
So happens that I believe in this philosophy. I have always believed I am miserable because I am smart. That's why I hate phony optimism and suck it up philosophies. If you run around with a perpetual smile on your face I am a more honest person than you will ever be.
Jimmy Fallon on being a parent:
"You invented this human, so you're like, I made the best human I can make. This is my Sistine Chapel, and I should be able to appreciate this."
Another philosophy I agree with.
Tuesday, March 31, 2020
Can't Keep It Inside Anymore
The first thing I want to say is addressed to all you fucking jerk-offs with 300 rolls of toilet paper stashed away at home.
Fuck off and drop dead.
My first impulse is to pray you get Corvid-19 and die a horrible, lonely death. But I think I have a better solution.
I hope you develop a case of explosive diarrhea. So much so that all you can do is shit. Spending 24 hours a day sitting on your toilet, unable to wipe your ass at all. Shitting until you collapse and die from dehydration.
Then I'm gonna come over and take your toilet paper.
The soft hearted keep saying "Remember, we are all in this together. We gotta take care of each other". We don't live in that world anymore (if we ever did). The world we live in is filled with hatred and the imminent threat of violence.
Simply put - if we were all in this together there would be toilet paper on the shelves.
Instead we all crawl around like fucking bugs desperately fighting to find tp. Because all the selfish pricks - and there are millions of them - care only about themselves. Period. They do not give a fuck about anyone else; they do not give a fuck if other people die; they do not give a fuck if other people have access to simple life necessities.
I had to pick up equipment at work yesterday so I can work at home. While I was in Concord I popped into Market Basket for food and ...............tp. No fucking tp. Again. And again and again.
I also popped into Rite Aid. No fucking tp.
I have been to two different Market Baskets, Shaw's, Rite Aid, Target, Harvester Market.
This is easily the 10th, 12th or 15th time I have gone looking for tp. I have only scored twice. I check online multiple times a day. Nothing.
I got sage advice telling me that I gotta make an early morning run if I want a chance, which is obviously what I am going to have to do. But if I get up at 5 or 6 to connect with early morning hours and there is no TP, someone is gonna die. If I see someone walking out of the store with TP I will bash their legs with a baseball bat and steal the precious goods. Even if it is a 93 year old woman.
I gotta get up early to score TP? Fuck you fuck you fuck you.
Next: Wanna know what trump supporters do when they are stuck at home? They ride 4 wheelers endlessly around their yard and fire guns in the back yard.
I have a trump supporter next door. A real brainless motherfucker. He owns some bizarre military vehicle - a big goddamn thing in camouflage colors. Probably not even legal. He rides it up and down the street from time to time. Complete with a full size trump flag in the back.
His kid rides his 4 wheeler endlessly during the day. Last weekend dad was out in the back yard firing his gun, which does not happen often.
I guarantee you he wasn't sharpening his aim. I guarantee you he was sending a message to his neighbors. When he runs out of tp (300 rolls later) he will come over here, shoot me in the face, and take mine.
What he doesn't know is that he won't get away with it. I am an angry man. I hated my fucking life before I was reduced to scavenging for tp. I really hate my life now.
It will be like that scene in the movie, the scene that everybody loves. The quiet guy who never raises his fists until he is pushed too far. Then he beats the living shit out of someone, really destroys them physically, maybe kills them, continually smashing his fist into their face long after they have gone unconscious.
That is where I am at.
Just thought you should know.
Fuck off and drop dead.
My first impulse is to pray you get Corvid-19 and die a horrible, lonely death. But I think I have a better solution.
I hope you develop a case of explosive diarrhea. So much so that all you can do is shit. Spending 24 hours a day sitting on your toilet, unable to wipe your ass at all. Shitting until you collapse and die from dehydration.
Then I'm gonna come over and take your toilet paper.
The soft hearted keep saying "Remember, we are all in this together. We gotta take care of each other". We don't live in that world anymore (if we ever did). The world we live in is filled with hatred and the imminent threat of violence.
Simply put - if we were all in this together there would be toilet paper on the shelves.
Instead we all crawl around like fucking bugs desperately fighting to find tp. Because all the selfish pricks - and there are millions of them - care only about themselves. Period. They do not give a fuck about anyone else; they do not give a fuck if other people die; they do not give a fuck if other people have access to simple life necessities.
I had to pick up equipment at work yesterday so I can work at home. While I was in Concord I popped into Market Basket for food and ...............tp. No fucking tp. Again. And again and again.
I also popped into Rite Aid. No fucking tp.
I have been to two different Market Baskets, Shaw's, Rite Aid, Target, Harvester Market.
This is easily the 10th, 12th or 15th time I have gone looking for tp. I have only scored twice. I check online multiple times a day. Nothing.
I got sage advice telling me that I gotta make an early morning run if I want a chance, which is obviously what I am going to have to do. But if I get up at 5 or 6 to connect with early morning hours and there is no TP, someone is gonna die. If I see someone walking out of the store with TP I will bash their legs with a baseball bat and steal the precious goods. Even if it is a 93 year old woman.
I gotta get up early to score TP? Fuck you fuck you fuck you.
Next: Wanna know what trump supporters do when they are stuck at home? They ride 4 wheelers endlessly around their yard and fire guns in the back yard.
I have a trump supporter next door. A real brainless motherfucker. He owns some bizarre military vehicle - a big goddamn thing in camouflage colors. Probably not even legal. He rides it up and down the street from time to time. Complete with a full size trump flag in the back.
His kid rides his 4 wheeler endlessly during the day. Last weekend dad was out in the back yard firing his gun, which does not happen often.
I guarantee you he wasn't sharpening his aim. I guarantee you he was sending a message to his neighbors. When he runs out of tp (300 rolls later) he will come over here, shoot me in the face, and take mine.
What he doesn't know is that he won't get away with it. I am an angry man. I hated my fucking life before I was reduced to scavenging for tp. I really hate my life now.
It will be like that scene in the movie, the scene that everybody loves. The quiet guy who never raises his fists until he is pushed too far. Then he beats the living shit out of someone, really destroys them physically, maybe kills them, continually smashing his fist into their face long after they have gone unconscious.
That is where I am at.
Just thought you should know.
Sunday, March 29, 2020
Quite Disquieting
I recently had a dream.
I was in a room with a woman I once worked with. I have no idea who it was, there was just a sense that I knew her, specifically that I had worked with her in the past.
She was busy doing something with her hands. Don't know what it was. She was leaning over moving things around; manipulating things.
I looked at her and said: "I am going to die soon".
She looked up and said: "I know".
There was no emotion in either statement; just a flat expression of fact.
I was in a room with a woman I once worked with. I have no idea who it was, there was just a sense that I knew her, specifically that I had worked with her in the past.
She was busy doing something with her hands. Don't know what it was. She was leaning over moving things around; manipulating things.
I looked at her and said: "I am going to die soon".
She looked up and said: "I know".
There was no emotion in either statement; just a flat expression of fact.
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