Just when I thought Bob got my letter and would reply soon, it was returned to me. It was marked ‘refused’ and I first thought, why would he refuse it? He wouldn’t refuse it unless he went senile. But then when Tom had me peel off the barcode sticker they put on to return it, I could clearly see that they’d written ‘deceased’ underneath it.

I’m not usually a compassionate person (at least I try not to be), yet I couldn’t help but shed some tears. Tom agreed it’s a sad case. What a waste his last decade was; losing Sandy to cancer, falling in love with the wrong person, then being railroaded by the system. I wonder if the bitch that got him into prison knows he’s dead and if she’s happy. I know deep down, no matter what anyone says, that his worst crime was allowing minors to have alcohol simply because he was too nice to say no. He was just a harmless old guy. And very generous too, with the way he gave me rides and all that. He may have been your typical male in that he’d get it on with just about anyone who wanted to do so with him, but he’d never force himself on anyone.

I knew he’d never get out of prison. I just had no idea he’d last this long. I really thought he’d be shanked or something in the first year or two if he didn’t kill himself. His last letter to me was in early March and my last one to him that didn’t get returned was in late April, so he was alive at least till then. He probably died between May and the first of this month.

I wonder if he’s with Sandy, allowing her to boss him around as Art would with Doe? If he is, I’m sure he’s more than happy to jump to her every beck and call than to be in prison! At least that much is good; that he’s out of there. And he got out in time to beat another winter.

I’m not sure anymore as to what to think happens to us after death. If the soul separates from our physical bodies, then how can our soul have any conscious thoughts or feelings since our 5 basic senses are a part of our physical beings? How can the soul think or feel any sensations like cold and hot? I don’t know if I buy the reincarnation theory only because the population keeps fluctuating. If 10 people die and 5 are born, then does this mean only half of the people who died are reincarnated? And if so, what happens to the half that wasn’t reincarnated?

I just hope that if he can have any positive influence over us, he will. If anything, he’s the most likely to do so out of anyone I’ve known well enough who’s died. My grandparents would’ve been too much against me than for me since I was always so different. They were one of those who were only for those who were like them, like Doe and Art. Nana especially would be up there saying, “Tom’s not Jewish so I don’t care that he makes Jodi happy.” Nervous probably would be too jealous of Tom to do us much good, and so that leaves Bob. Good old, accepting, tolerant Bob.

He had no close relatives that I know of. The only person who was writing or seeing him, in the end, was his old landlady. No one else seemed to give a shit. I guess he’d be buried wherever Sandy is, and I think that would be either in the Greenfield area or somewhere in New York.

Again, I don’t know if things turned around for us because of him, the prayers, my spells, the lucky bamboo plant we got shortly after moving here, or the horseshoe above the front door that’s said to bring good luck so long as you don’t turn it the other way. Well, it must’ve been turned the other way or just a silly superstition for the couple that last lived here, considering that they ended up splitting. I try to keep an open mind, though God is the hardest one to be that open to. After all the shit I’ve gone through in my life, and after seeing so many people die in cases like Hurricane Katrina, it makes me wonder why he’d care about Jodi S. What’s so special about me?

I’m just going to enjoy the good times while they last because I know better than to assume they will last. All good things must come to an end, and good things do end rather quickly for us.

I couldn’t get the bamboo clipping to grow roots, but the area I snipped it from is growing back. Instead of trying to grow roots from clippings, we went down to get a bigger one that curls, but it was after 5:00 so she had closed.

Instead, I got a beta fish. He’s sitting by my computer now watching me type. He and his food were just under $5, so that wasn’t much. He’s mostly royal blue with shades of red in the tips of his fins. He seems pretty active and doesn’t just sit there at the bottom of the clear vase I’ve got him in.

We should be receiving our cash card and our deposit anytime now, and this is day 4 of no teeth pain. At least none bad enough to have to take some ibuprofen.

The only two things shadowing the enjoyment of having things go better for us after so much misery for so long is the prospect of having the house next door sell. I think the Brady bunch and their dogs will move in on November 1st.