DAY III

I called Barbara Harris. She was not feeling well. I ended up stopping by for a half hour. I begin to understand that she’s going through a lot. I sat on the ground and just held space for her under the “confidence comes from belonging” note. She asked me if I wanted to have children. I didn’t know. She did. And still, she probably saw through me, didn’t she? It’s not that it wasn’t true. I left her so she could have her own space. I went to Two Sisters because she told me to get that dress or else. So, I did. I remember having a brief exchange with the woman that knew her. Or, maybe I didn’t. I got the dress. Later, I got a phone call around 11 PM. She was upset about her tooth, and it was a little hard to follow, but not really. She wasn’t in any pain, it seemed. She had to go to the dentist, and she called him at that hour. I would most definitely take her the next day. I didn’t know how to feel about being there sitting on my bed. I don’t know why I thought about it, but I had read that she wrote the monologue in Who is Harry Kellerman and Why is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me from 1971. I don’t necessarily believe everything I hear and read, regardless. Apparently, she woke up in the middle of the night and delivered it. I asked her and she said that she didn’t. But who knows? It came with the territory.