SUBJECT: Following up after your appointment
Dear Sybil,
It was great to see you yesterday, although as I said, the drops are not sustaining your vision as well as I’d hoped and the loss is happening more rapidly than we had hoped it would. Unfortunately, that’s the nature of the beast. It can putter along for years, and then all of a sudden a fast decline. The gnats you see will get worse or stay stable, but it’s unlikely they will go away, and the vision may begin to go in and out. Some days you may experience a dramatic vision loss in one or both eyes, and then the next day it could come back. It’s no fun. I want to reiterate the point I made about my concerns with your living alone and the fact that you have not made your son and daughter aware of the situation. It won’t be very much longer that I can, in good conscience, allow you to continue to drive, either. The last time you fell it was a bad result with your broken wrist, etc., but what if it’s worse in the future? Stairs, a sidewalk curb? I wonder, could you hire some kind of companion or nurse for even some part of the days? I’m afraid with this sort of thing, one doesn’t even always know the toll it is taking while the trouble is underway. The headaches you mentioned, too, are undoubtedly related to the strain on your eyes when you read and write, though I know you well enough by now to know you won’t quit with that.
I really think you should contact the organization I mentioned, the Baltimore Services for the Blind. They’ve got good people and tons of resources for all the stages of this.
Also wanted to say thank you for the coffee table book of golf courses. It was very thoughtful of you, and completely unnecessary. You’ve given me a project—how many can I play? I’m forty-one. What’s your bet?
Dr. Jameson
Sybil Van Antwerp
17 Farney Rd.
Arnold, MD 21012
USA
July 21, 2016
Sybil, we just got off the line and I’m sitting here chatting to Stew about the whole thing. As I think more about the matter of your little Miss Henrietta, I just can’t help but think that it would be a shame if you knew you had a blood relation and you never contacted her—what a waste. And it wasn’t her who gave you up, was it? She wasn’t even born. You’ve uncovered a treasure! You can’t just leave it flung out there.
Felix
FROM: [email protected]
DATE: Aug 19, 2016 8:23 AM
SUBJECT: Canceling visit
Greetings Mick, I’m writing with disappointing news. I will have to go back on my word after all and cancel next week’s trip to Houston. A very dear friend is in something of a crisis at the moment and his teenage son is going to be staying with me here at the house for a little while. I’m not certain if it will be a few weeks or more, but certainly I will let you know. I’ve known the boy for years; his father is the honorable Judge James Landy, as a matter of fact. Did you ever cross paths? He’s a lovely man, if a bit uptight and clinging to this modern Republicanism I’ve grown to despise. Anyway, I am sorry. I hope you can get your money back for the plane tickets. Of course as soon as I can, I’ll be in touch. I am disappointed to miss the shooting.
Warm regards,
Sybil
Rosalie Van Antwerp
33 Orange Lane
Goshen, CT 06756
October 1, 2016
Dear Rosalie,
Harry has been here for just over two weeks. He got here looking awful, as gaunt as can be and dark circles under his eyes, his hair looking like he’d run a stick of butter through it, pimples all over his face. When James brought him to the door I nearly gasped. He’s huge, as tall as Daan, but lean as a pole. It’s painfully obvious the child is in need of a mother. He was about as limp as old lettuce and I could see James was holding his breath, hoping I wouldn’t change my mind. James is positively thriving in his career, but wretched in the way of his family going to absolute shit. To hell in a handbasket, as they say. What a mess. There were tears in his eyes. He’s blaming himself for the whole thing, and you know I don’t blame him for all of it, but one does have to do a bit of self-reflection.
The boy is sullen for the main, and he does sleep a good deal, though James said this has to do with his medication and he used to run on five hours a night. He’s got his schoolwork, but he stays on top of that on his own and I don’t have to make him. He is funny about eating and he doesn’t talk to me much. From his letters I’d assumed he would be more talkative, but either these past months have killed off something in him or all along he was finding confidence behind the veil of ink on the page, as many people do. He spends a lot of time upstairs in the bedroom. I think he is doing puzzles or reading (child loves puzzles and reading; he is obsessed with fantasy and science fiction) or he’s on his computer a good deal. He plays World of Warcraft, which is a game about magic and battles. He also does coding, which he tried to explain to me, an exercise in futility. He goesout for a walk sometimes—I failed to mention he’s brought his dog, a massive creature called Thor shedding hair I’m having to vacuum twice daily. He drives himself to therapy twice a week (Harry, not the dog). I don’t think he’s suicidal now. We have conversations about it. I ask him outright at least every other day. ‘You won’t try to kill yourself, then?’ I want to make sure everything is very cut-and-dried, and he says he won’t try it again and I believe him. He’s a quirky child, but truthful. Very practical. I can usually get him to play a game or two with me in the evenings. He’s sharp as a tack with cards and things. He’s teaching me mah-jongg. We are watching a documentary series on a man who free-climbs steep rock faces. I’m trying to get a sense of what will motivate him. He’s flat as a pancake. I’m glad he’s here, though. You know, it makes me happy knowing he’s here, and I guess that about answers your inquiry on how things are going.
It’s hard to find time to write with a child in the house again, but I’ll do my best. I’m still readingThe Round House(Louise Erdrich).
Sybil
