Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck....

No one can find Giselle. No one.

Giselle is a family friend. She is the one who only had one child, a son, who recently, like a few months ago, fell over dead at breakfast one day. I wrote about that...

Giselle is unbelievably nice, and has so many quirks, she could be hilarious. For many years, she came to all our dinners at the high holidays, and there were only two rules. She would only eat fowl. And the corfee had better be heart-stopping strong, or else.

I once mentioned the fowl thing to a cousin of mine, saying, 'she will eat anything that flies', and got back the question, 'even a Boeing 747?' Cracked me up.

People in my family can be so flip.

And she was always a fixture at Christmas. She loved her some pretty trees, believe me.

She always played one-upmanship with Peter's aunt. 'Well YOU weren't here when...' and so on and so on. It was like schoolgirl rivalry. 'And he made you FISH for the first course, but he made ME a chicken salad!' (So there... so to speak...) I usually had to run to the kitchen and just fall apart laughing. Deadly duels, they were... and hilarious.

Whatever, when I left Peter's house... she had become ill, and has more or less been bed ridden for the last 8 years, her son took care of her, and he died, and he was somewhat younger than me.

Peter and his aunt have always been in contact with her, and she always, ALWAYS sends me her greetings and admonitions to take care of myself, and cares.

I was astounded that when her son died, she did not call Peter or Charlotte. She called me. I had to be brave on that call, and not burst into tears for her. I did that afterward.

And all of a sudden, hey... she can't get to the phone. Which is just outside the room she occupies. She has people from social services who see to her every day. So first I thought, 'ok, she's back in the eye clinic, because her retinas get detached, and they keep trying to fix it.' Her son used to inform us, and we would know all was as ok as it could be... but he is no longer among us.

So Charlotte mailed me today, and told me how worried she was that she couldn't reach 'Gisi', as she calls her. (Her real first name is Gisela, and Peter's mother used to call her Giselle, thus the confusion here. For me, she was Giselle.)

So I assumed she was in the eye clinic again. And got the info at the state hospital, and asked if she were a patient there, explaining that a nearly ninety year old lady couldn't be reached, and we were wondering if she had been put into the hospital. And no. There is no patient of that name anywhere on their records.

That sort of fucks my mind.

So... tomorrow morning, I am going to bus out to her hilly area, and try to find out what has happened.

As optimistic pessimist... oh, I don't want to go there.

But hoping that at best, she couldn't cope any more, and is in a home... at worst? I do not want to go there.

I DO know that I will go there with fear in my heart.

People who are kind should live forever, you know?

I hope it is a false alarm.