Jules hated 6 p.m. After Violet, something changed in him when the sun went down. In July, it was about 7:30. After dinner, he’d often enjoy the sunset from his back deck. With a glass of his whiskey iced tea. The sun falling out of the sky was achingly beautiful and the whiskey added layers to the spectrum of colors that filled his vision. But then the colors faded, the sky became ominous, and he’d hear the hoo-hoo of the great horned owl family that inhabited the redwood above him.
Heading back inside, Jules was left with a few hours before sleep. He dreaded those hours in the summer and fall. During the winter and spring months, he’d fill the hours with his Sixers on television or watching films. During the summer, he yearned for companionship, waiting for the next family visit from Reva or the girls. He was careful to filter that desperate need when talking with Reva. She had her busy and rewarding life back East. His granddaughters reached out to him frequently, but he didn’t want to burden them with his sadness. He wanted to laugh with their stories and listen to them describe their passions, their classes, boyfriends and girlfriends. He didn’t seem to have as much to tell them about his life anymore.
He’d suddenly become a stationary object like a buoy near a beach, at the edge of the swimmable area, bobbing in the ocean as a kind of warning of old age, waiting to be discovered.
Jules felt that tug of desperation, that nightly sinking sensation as he waited for his wonderful granddaughter Becca, who sat in godawful traffic, crawling northward, probably near Ventura now.
He found the list of affirmations again.
15. I enjoy doing this.
“I enjoy doing what?” Jules wondered.
Reading this list of ways to convince yourself you can find happiness? Jules’ longtime pal Howard, who taught literature at Haverford for decades, who was now living in a facility somewhere in Florida with his wife. Howard loved Camus. One night, Howard explained that Camus decided that even Sisyphus, cursed to push that enormous boulder up the mountain over and over again, that even Sisyphus could find happiness in the effort. There was truth in the lesson that working your body freed your mind… but how hard did you have to work your body?
Jules wished his body still allowed him to find that freedom.
Jules thoughts kept tumbling around in his mind like clothes in a dryer. “I enjoy this solitude, I just wish it didn’t turn into loneliness so often. This quiet agony occasionally upended by joy and laughter. I will try to enjoy this.”
16. I let go of control and focus on joy.
Control was always a problem. I let go of control. How does one steer without control? How do I unravel my genetic tendency toward anxiety? How do I undo my upbringing and the hard-wiring it’d done on my mind?
Most Jews had to have control, or be medicated, or talk through their control-issues. Jewish mothers usually love their children, squeezing them so long and hard that their children have to push them away in order to become adults.
Focus on joy. That was possible. The glass in front of Jules, with lemon iced-tea and melting ice cubes and a splash of Maker’s Mark… it was half-full, even if the smudges on the glass were obvious. Even if the condensation left a puddle on the table under the glass. Even if the glass would shatter into 100 shards if he dropped it from the back deck. It was half-full.
Becca called again. Jules found the phone in time and put on his glasses. He answered.
“Hey Grandpa! I’m finally passed Ventura. My GPS says 35 minutes.” Becca said.
“Don’t worry, honey,” Jules replied.
“I’ve got our sandwiches. If you need to eat, go ahead.” Becca said.
“I had some olives, I can wait. See you soon, love you,” Jules replied.
“Okay, Grandpa! Love you, too.” Becca hung up.
17. I let go of all negative emotions, especially fear.
Jules spent 80 years trying to let go of negative emotions. They were like peanut butter. Once they came out, they stuck on everything. He’d found he could shift his focus from dark to light, but it was always temporary.
Being with Reva helped. When she was so tiny, that little creature snuggling on his chest, negative emotions seemed to evaporate. But after a doze, when Reva woke up crying and hungry, his mind would fill with tomorrow’s problems. With work obligations and grocery runs. With shoveling the driveway. Fears of the future.
Being with Violet had helped. Her energy defeated his dread. Her no-nonsense talk. She had no room for his neuroticism. She brought him into his body. Making love became as natural as it always might have been. Then Violet was killed. His last phase of life, the one they’d planned together, was now a solitary phase.
I let go of all negative emotions. Jules went back outside, to the deck. He held his drink and leaned on the railing. He listened to the owls and found the moon up there. I let go of all negative emotions, he thought. Then he finished his drink and dropped the glass down onto the craggy hillside below, waiting for it to shatter. It hit the dry dirt without a sound.
He looked down. It hadn’t broken.