July 16, 1991
Tuesday afternoon

The doctor gives Paul another two days or so. His Mom and brother are coming in from LA and his sister from Maine to drive Mark crazy. Whenever I answer the phone in the room and it's one of them they can't thank me enough for staying with Paul. I know they mean well but I can't help thinking what they really mean to add is "considering what you are."

Paul made plans to be cremated and put up at Trinity overlooking the Hudson. I'm sure his mother knows nothing of that will make a fuss -- "Our family has always been buried at Forest Lawn! ever since we walked all that way across Siberia to get here!"

I think I'll just cop out and go to the beach tomorrow and let them all be alone together. His father has never even called, the creep. He's on demerol so doesn't know much of what is going on. He keeps pointing at something and babbling. I turn on his favorite soap, "All My Children" but even Erica couldn't rouse him.