Thursday, April 7, 2016

In which Primo finds the "farewell" note that I had seen on Doris' computer five months ago and reads it so I do not have to die of curiosity

When Primo and I were on vacation last summer, right after Sly died, he had his mom's MacBook with him. I was using it and saw all of Doris' files - not because I went nosing around her directory but because there were dozens of files on her desktop and how can you not see something titled "Stephanie and Goldie - why?" or "Farewell note."

Doris and Sly drafted their emails in word and then copied them into their email.

I had opened the one with my name on it with almost no hesitation and shared it with you guys.

But I did not open the note called "Farewell note." It seemed like an invasion of her privacy, although now of course I completely regret not having taken the opportunity when I had it. Can the privacy of dead people be invaded?

I had asked Primo to read it - we thought it might have been a suicide note (she threatened suicide occasionally) - but he had not. I thought all was lost once he gave the computer to Jack.

I mentioned it the other day and he - thank goodness for his compulsive hoarding engineer mind - said, "Yeah, but I copied all of her files to my computer."

I asked him to read the note.

He did and it turned out to be a little farewell speech to some organization where Doris had volunteered. So nothing dramatic.

However, when Primo was looking for the file, he came across another note: "Email for Primo."

Curious, he opened it.

It was a note that Doris had never sent - perhaps she realized there should be some boundaries between a mother and her child? - about Sly.

But it was a terribly sad note. She wrote that Sly still demanded sex twice a week and that he was becoming meaner and was angry at her because she did not want to watch porn. He had specifically wanted her to watch a movie about a brother and a sister who meet this guy and proceed to have incestuous three ways and she had specifically resisted, telling Sly that was really not to her taste.

My gosh. The woman was 75 years old, had COPD and could hardly breathe, was a malnourished 110 pounds on a 5'10" frame.

All she wanted - all she deserved - was for someone to be nice to her.

And Sly could not even do that.


  1. I'm so sorry Primo saw this. Abusers have no boundaries. Unfortunately this is one of those instances where saying the deceased is in a better place really rings true.

  2. I remember you saying you always thought he would go first and she would finally get some peace and it makes me sad.

  3. Thank you for spelling "curious" correctly! Now if I could just start a war on Oxford commas...

    1. Well except in the title anyway.

    2. Oops! Blogger does not have spellcheck and I am a bad speller.

      You will take the Oxford comma from my cold, dead, and rotting hands.

    3. The Oxford comma is my preference. Those who prefer not to use it generally don't bother me. But it makes some sentences clear(er).


    4. (P.S. "Curiosity" and "curious" are both spelled correctly--[?])


    5. Comma abuse! Comma abuse!

  4. Poor,poor Doris. I wish she had had time.

  5. May she finally rest in peace.

  6. May she finally rest in peace.


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