benjamin wilson webber--born 5:32am on wednesday, september 9th. i think of the thousands of times he’ll say the date throughout his life: nine nine twenty. nine nine twenty twenty is more fun, no question, but he’ll probably say nine nine twenty more often.
following his first visit to the pediatrician, sarah found a bench in columbus park across from the kings county supreme court while i walked down to the shake shack to get us lunch. benjamin’s weight was a little under where the doctor wanted, so we scheduled a return appointment for later in the week. every baby drops from their birth weight, no biggie there; he just wanted to make sure benjamin was getting enough milk.
they don’t have the peanut butter, i texted sarah, knowing she’d be disappointed. after so many months of controlled dieting, she was looking forward to the shake even more than the fries. i did my best to convince her that strawberry was the way to go--that i, in fact, might have opted for strawberry out of the gate. when i returned with the food, benjamin was asleep in his car seat beside sarah on the bench.
as we passed the shake back and forth, i reminisced about when we first started dating. perhaps because it was a monday. for years monday was our date night. sitting there together, it felt just like those first mondays: perfect, the perfect way to start a week.
when we ran out of ketchup, <quote-01>we dipped our fries in the shake<quote-01>.
monday, august 24th: the day after i posted my previous letter and three weeks before the shake in the park, casey is in <quote-02>woodstock<quote-02> enjoying a similarly perfect afternoon. his family used to vacation there--they had relatives upstate--so he is familiar with the area. he went up with grace for a much-needed couple days off at the insistence of his business partner. <quote-03>they've bought up<quote-03> a few bars that were going under during the pandemic in hopes of coming out ahead on the other end of all of this. while grace lazes back at the hotel, casey explores a creek he used to frequent as a teenager. he spots the rock across the way where he used to sit and play guitar. he marvels at how that teenager never considered his older self, the one now looking on downstream some quarter century <quote-04>later<quote-04>.
back at the hotel, he sees he’s missed multiple calls from his mother. he calls her back. she’s hysterical. casey’s father is dead.
bob and helen did not get on. <quote-05>i’d say they shouldn’t have stayed together, but who’s to say what folks should or shouldn’t have done<quote-05>. bob felt off the night before and told helen he thought they should call an ambulance. she balked; he won out. the ambulance came. the medics found nothing wrong with bob--point helen. bob continued to feel like something was wrong and, after a sleepless night, insisted on checking himself into the hospital the following morning. they’d keep him under observation for a day or two and try to figure out what was going on. a couple hours later he had a massive heart attack--<quote-06>point, bob<quote-06>--and they were unable to revive him. a push: no one wins.
<quote-07>tuesday, august 25th<quote-07>: back in brooklyn, casey calls me and asks if i can come walk around with him for a bit. my therapist says that i should hang out with you, casey tells me. he’s on vacation, said i could call if i needed, and i figured this qualified. / oh, for sure. mine is away as well. he told me the same thing. / must be a liability thing. / yeah, probably.
he tells me how aware he was of his body as he crossed the creek to where he used to play guitar, precariously from stone to stone. i tell him how i’ve noticed people seem to walk faster down the sidewalk than they used to. could be my gait has slowed; could be i’m simply clocking others more than i have before. casey is exhausted, says he’s been crying most of the day. he doesn’t do any crying on our walk. i wonder if he would have asked me to take a walk with him if his therapist hadn’t told him to. i don’t know. either way, <quote-08>i’m happy to be with him<quote-08>.
<quote-09>wednesday, august 26th<quote-09>: casey and grace fly down to florida to be with helen and his siblings. they decide to get a hotel rather than stay at the house with everyone. i’d go with him if not for the upcoming birth, possibly sarah and i both. bob is cremated; there isn’t a funeral. <quote-10>he doesn’t really have any friends<quote-10>, far as casey knows.
<quote-11>friday, august 28th<quote-11>: sarah sleeps in. you’ve yet to post, hoke, so i check the doc for additional comments before getting up to take cooper out. halfway around the block my back starts to seize up. remember the psychosomatic pain from pre-lockdown? it’s back.
is this because we’re a day away from the due date? we’ve been told first-born labors start 8 days late on average, so we still got plenty of time. besides, the house is spotless, the freezer is stocked, and all the laundry is done. there’s plenty of room left on the bookshelves to boot. haven’t i done everything i can to prepare for this child? what am i missing? <quote-12>what is my body telling me that my mind is ignoring?<quote-12>
back at the house i unleash cooper and try to focus on making breakfast. there’s a pot of oatmeal on the stove from the night before. steel cut oats have been a breakfast staple of ours throughout the pregnancy; they don’t spike sarah’s blood sugar, and, unlike me, she tires of eggs. the recipe is simple enough: heat half a cup of oats, a cup and half of water, and a good pinch of salt on the stove top. soon as it reaches a boil, turn the heat off, put the lid on, and let it sit overnight. the following morning it’s a quick reheat with another half a cup of water, cinnamon, honey, a couple heaping spoonfuls of peanut butter, and a handful of frozen blueberries. i don’t know where sarah got the idea to put <quote-13>peanut butter<quote-13> in oatmeal, but it works, let me tell you.
luckily, my back pain doesn’t reach the intensity it did earlier in the year. by the time the oatmeal is ready, the pain is gone.
<quote-14>saturday, august 29th<quote-14>: the due date. the pain is back, this time in crippling full force, and it’s not going away.
i text my therapist to see if he can chat, and i make a virtual appointment with a gastroenterologist for later in the afternoon. you can talk to a gastro if you want, my therapist says, but this type of pain is as common as it gets. stress manifests itself in the back, in the gut, in the head, and in the teeth. i did have a bit of a toothache the other night, i think to myself. i’m pacing the bedroom, barely holding on. rice in china, he says. so what am i supposed to do? i ask. nothing you can do, <quote-15>he says<quote-15>. you’re terrified. things might just suck for a while. / i get it, but the pain is real, man. / i understand. / and what about the birth? what if i can’t be there for the birth? / what can you do but your best? talk to a gastro if you want, it’s the adult thing to do, but i’m telling you, you’re just going to have to wait this one out.
the gastroenterologist advises me to go to the emergency room. without examining me in person, he can’t diagnose.
from 10am to 10pm i writhe. i take some tylenol that does fuckall. we don’t have any heavy-hitting pain killers around the house; <quote-16>i hate pills anyways<quote-16>. the best i can manage is to lie down on the bed, shut my eyes, go deep inside, deep as I can, and try to embrace it. there is no falling asleep, but if i remain still and focus entirely on the experience of the pain itself, i am able to dampen the suffering a bit. soon as i start to move around, thinking i can get more comfortable, forget about it.
finally, i decide to go to the emergency room. i have to be proactive, i tell myself. not only is the birth on my mind, but the weeks of postpartum as well. if i can’t show up for sarah, i’m in for a world of self-loathing. <quote-17>sarah insists on accompanying me to the hospital<quote-17>. i’m close to calling an ambulance, but we elect to try to get me into an uber first. somehow we do, lord knows how.
<quote-18>it takes multiple doses of morphine to set me straight<quote-18>. you ever injected morphine? it’s a ride, <quote-19>let me tell you<quote-19>.
<pull-quote>woodstock<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>How many small personal triumphs and tragedies have played out in Waco, Texas? Lexington and Concord, Massachusetts?<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>Last year, around this time, when I went to NY to visit the Bruderhof upstate, I took the train from Grand Central to Poughkeepsie (a rad little town of rust and yellow leaves), then my hosts picked me up and we drove through a sleepy little town he said was Woodstock. One pointed over a grassy hill to where a music festival got some news, years ago. Place looked charming.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>they've bought up<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>Where does this money come from? <p-comment>
<p-comment>Chris Taylor just doubled in two, by the way. Tom was quick with the flexed biceps emoji on the Thread.<p-comment>
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<avatar-wuck><avatar-wuck><author-name>Wuck<author-name>
<p-comment>i’m unsure how they work it.<p-comment>
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<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>Laundering money for the mob. Got it. Say no more. Say no more. Nod's as good as a wink to a blind man.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>later<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>Lovely.<p-comment>
<p-comment>Kershaw's first batter gets a fucking double on a squibber through the infield. Un-fucking-real.<p-comment>
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<pull-quote>i’d say they shouldn’t have stayed together, but who’s to say what folks should or shouldn’t have done<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>You can say it, bud.<p-comment>
<p-comment>After a stolen base, a slow groundball cashes in the squib double. Not a single ball hit hard. Dodgers go to the second up 2-1.<p-comment>
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<pull-quote>point, bob<pull-quote>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>Laughing out loud under the covers at this perfectly dark humor. I might have just woken Abram back up.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>tuesday, august 25th<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>In the name of all this simultaneity: Kristen and I stayed home for the first time in fourteen years on 8/25, our wedding anniversary. We ordered in from Spaggi's expecting great things. Letdown City.<p-comment>
<p-comment>The Dodgers followed suit later that night, giving up leads to the hated ones in the 9th, 10th, and 11th. Final score: Giants 10, Dodgers 8<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-wuck><avatar-wuck><author-name>Wuck<author-name>
<p-comment>ah, letdown city--all those small personal triumphs and tragedies.<p-comment>
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<pull-quote>i’m happy to be with him<pull-quote>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>Has Casey not wanted to take a walk with you, just hang out, in recent months?<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-wuck><avatar-wuck><author-name>Wuck<author-name>
<p-comment>we don’t hang out as much as we did when we lived together. between college and new york, we lived together for a decade. usually we’re playing music when we hang, but we can shoot the shit for hours as well.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>I'd love to learn more about this friendship that has held you for so long, on the opposite coast as the rest of us. And what the hopes--acting, music, albums--and accrued bonding--two decades now of adulting together--are that hold you there even now.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-wuck><avatar-wuck><author-name>Wuck<author-name>
<p-comment>well, i also met this woman a few years back...<p-comment>
<p-comment>but no, these are good questions. ones that i’ve been asking myself more and more the last few years.<p-comment>
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<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>If you attempt to answer them with your therapist instead of in these letters, you're borderline dead to me.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>wednesday, august 26th<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>The Dodger game that night was postponed right before first pitch in light of the Kenosha unrest: "If Mookie sits, we all sit."<p-comment>
<p-comment>Dodgers sweep a doubleheader--Games 32 and 33 of 60--the next day. Giants don't score a single run.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>he doesn’t really have any friends<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>Dr. Hoke can relate.<p-comment>
<p-comment>It's three-up-three-down for the Rockies against Kersh in both the 2nd and 3rd.<p-comment>
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<avatar-wuck><avatar-wuck><author-name>Wuck<author-name>
<p-comment>atta boy, kersh.<p-comment>
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<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>My dad has some friends scattered around the globe, he gets along quickly and fabulously with neighbors and tennis court regulars, and many colleagues he calls buddies. But a real steady friend, someone whose name I would know? No.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>friday, august 28th<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>The bullpen crumbles in the 7th. Dodgers lose Game 34 in Arlington 6-2.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>what is my body telling me that my mind is ignoring?<pull-quote>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>This feels familiar to the constant anxiety we learned in charismatic/renewal/pentecostal circles. Always some mysterious CONNECTION we're not discerning. Do you feel that, Wuck?<p-comment>
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<avatar-wuck><avatar-wuck><author-name>Wuck<author-name>
<p-comment>when i think of anxiety, i think of the debilitating generalized anxiety i experienced in college. attacks would hit me multiple times throughout the day without rhyme or reason. further describe for me this constant anxiety you see in the pentecostal circles.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>For example: If I have jaw pain . . . maybe I haven't forgiven my grandfather--who I didn't like, who had a jutting jaw and TMJ. So maybe I carry that tension and judgment in my own body. The jaw pain becomes a larger anxiety about the layers of meaning I need to sort out and address, beyond the physical pain. It became too much for me.<p-comment>
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<avatar-wuck><avatar-wuck><author-name>Wuck<author-name>
<p-comment>i’ll have to think more on this. there are certainly layers i’ve yet to unpack. as a student of literature, it’s hard not to find the revelations that pass for meaning making in pentecostal circles laughable, but as a child?<p-comment>
<p-comment>although, even this phrase, meaning making, reads different to me now than it did, say, earlier this year.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>If what you're saying is no more vaccines, sign me up.<p-comment>
<p-comment>Seriously, though, this sounds a bit like the stuff that has functioned to all but discredit Freud.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>peanut butter<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>I don't think I've ever had more than a bite of oatmeal at a time my whole life. This sounds good, though. I'd happily tuck into this.<p-comment>
<p-comment>Did Koontz feed you "oathmeal" when he inducted you into ComedySportz? You probably don't remember.<p-comment>
<p-comment>Another 1-2-3 for Kersh.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>Yeah, I'd try this combo here.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-wuck><avatar-wuck><author-name>Wuck<author-name>
<p-comment>nice, kersh.<p-comment>
<p-comment>i’ll make a batch for us when we are next together.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>Can't wait.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>saturday, august 29th<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>Dodgers top the Rangers 7-4. Jansen has an uneventful 9th for the save.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>he says<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>Have you fired him yet?<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>Yeah--did he publish an article on psychosomatics, or something?<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>i hate pills anyways<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>Don't even get me started on vaccines.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>Start, please.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>Well, as a dyed in the wool anti-vaxxer...<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-wuck><avatar-wuck><author-name>Wuck<author-name>
<p-comment>don’t bite, hoke. he’s yanking your wiener.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>Dang it. I always bite on these wiener yankings. Good lookin' out, Wuck.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>sarah insists on accompanying me to the hospital<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>Sarah gets my vote for MVP of this letter.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>it takes multiple doses of morphine to set me straight<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>Shit just got real.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>I too just did a double-take.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote>let me tell you<pull-quote>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>Um, ok. Tell us everything.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-wuck><avatar-wuck><author-name>Wuck<author-name>
<p-comment>the first shot was subtle, but intense. i could literally feel it coursing through my veins. you know that first deep hit of a cig when you haven’t smoked in months? how you feel it in your limbs? in your fingers? like that, but numbing. and warmer. i feel like grammar, reaching for temperature when i can’t do better. still, the first dose did nothing for the pain. the second dose did the trick. the pain simply disappeared.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>This is so helpful. To hear pure opiate experience described to me by my heroin-virgin childhood friend, with writing skills. Really helpful.<p-comment>
<p-comment>The "warm" is spot on. I've heard folks in recovery describe heroin as a big, warm blanket they can wrap themselves in and disappear.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>Good stuff.<p-comment>
<p-comment>These comments, I mean.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<pull-quote><pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment><p-comment>
<p-comment><p-comment>
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<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment><p-comment>
<p-comment><p-comment>
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<avatar-wuck><avatar-wuck><author-name>Wuck<author-name>
<p-comment><p-comment>
<p-comment><p-comment>
<p-comment><p-comment>
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<pull-quote><pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment><p-comment>
<p-comment><p-comment>
<p-comment><p-comment>
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<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment><p-comment>
<p-comment><p-comment>
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<avatar-wuck><avatar-wuck><author-name>Wuck<author-name>
<p-comment><p-comment>
<p-comment><p-comment>
<p-comment><p-comment>
<hr><hr>
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<pull-quote>we dipped our fries in the shake<pull-quote>
<avatar-murph><avatar-murph><author-name>Murph<author-name>
<p-comment>You have me literally swooning over here. It's like I'm there with you.<p-comment>
<p-comment>In case you're wondering what's going on Upland side, I've got the laptop set up in front of the big screen for Game 53 of 60. Kershaw is a few minutes from taking the mound in Denver.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>
<avatar-hoke><avatar-hoke><author-name>Hoke<author-name>
<p-comment>I am reading this letter on my phone while on the couch pullout bed with Abram, in the dark. He's really into this lately, since we saw Fred Rogers pull his couch bed out and use a flashlight in his darkened living room set.<p-comment>
<hr><hr>