Monday, May 13, 2019

On Death and Dying

On Death and Dying
Image from: http://wisdomquotes.com/
I would love to say that this past week outshone the week before that what with cars breaking down and black licorice taffy, but sadly, that isn't the case. The reality is that it's been such a rollercoaster that a part of me is screaming, "Please just let me off. I can't do this anymore."

I don't tell you that to scare you, but to be real with myself and with anyone who reads this. It's been a really rough week...and as the mechanic told me last Monday, "But, honey, it's only Monday."

Let's backtrack just a little bit. I want to tell you about my friend, Laura. Just over a week ago, I got a call from one of the few people on this planet that I trust with my everything. It sounds a bit odd to say that since before this call, I hadn't heard his voice in probably five years, but it's true. Anyway, it wasn't a happy call...he called to tell me that Laura had died. In that moment, I think I went numb and into some sort of denial. It wasn't possible. She was 53. She was this amazing, incredible woman who was loved by so many. Writing this now, almost two weeks later, the tears are finally there and I can't stop them.

Going to her funeral was only reliant on one thing..if the friend mentioned above would let me stay at his place. Once that was set, I move heaven and earth to get there. Of course, my car broke down on the way and there was a bit of drama trying to get it fixed/get a rental car, but I got there. The funeral, as far as funerals go, was lovely. The room was packed and I couldn't help but look around and wonder if anyone would come to mine if I died. Compared to this woman, I've done nothing with my life. What would they have to talk about in my death?

I came back home just two days ...not even two days really...after getting there. I left with mixed feelings: sadness over Laura, fear that it'd be another six years until I was back "home" again, a desire to prove myself to the world, and a need to see my children. Since then, I've pushed and pushed trying to be even a quarter of the woman she was. I've taken the youngest to rehearsal, attended his senior breakfast, took both boys for one last immunization, had lunch with an author friend who amazes me constantly with his skills and talents, worked on projects for clients...do you all see where this is heading?

At no point have I taken a moment to mourn or grieve or even breathe. Tonight though, I can't stop the tears. I can't stop the sobs that wrack my body. It's good that I'm alone because if I were with someone else, I'd try hard to be strong for them. I'd shove it all down. I wouldn't be able to say what I'm about to put here...

I feel guilty for being alive. The world needs Lauras. They need those amazing hearts matched with strength and determination. The outpouring of love and the number of people in that room showed that. I live in fear that when I die I will die forgotten. There will be nobody to even put together a funeral, let alone people who will travel from all over to share their stories of me or to help comfort those who grieve.

I want this post to have a happy ending. After all, that's what I do, right? I write these posts about my struggles but I always end them with some little ray of hope, some thought that keeps me going. Tonight, I don't have one of those. All I can think is...why me? Why am I still here but she isn't? The world needs Lauras.


Friday, May 3, 2019

Life is Fragile and Absurd

Life is Fragile and Absurd
As usual, I've been meaning to write this post for a week, but things kept happening and I kept trying to process them but none of it ever made it here. This post is one big wrap up, I think, but we'll see where it goes.

Let's start with last week...

On Wednesday, I did the usual thing of taking the kid 90 minutes to his lesson and then jazz orchestra rehearsal. On the drive there, we didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, but on the way back was a different story. The car was vibrating loudly from the back and of course, not being mechanics, we had no idea why, but we agreed it was probably bad. Once I dropped Roger off, it started making a series of new sounds so I decided to take it to our "shady" mechanic the next morning. Thursday dawned bright and early and I headed in once I realized that the power was now out at the house for an undetermined amount of time. Except, I didn't get very far. Three miles from home, the car jerked and started making a very loud ka-thump ka-thump noise. I figured this was probably bad so I pulled over. I got out, saw that I still had four tires and all and got back in the car. I started it again and pulled away going maybe ten miles an hour...the ka-thump was so loud that I didn't go even a block before I pulled right back over. A friend called the shop where the owner said he hadn't had a mechanic since January. January?!? What?!? After a small meltdown, we agreed that I should have the car towed to the town I had to go to for Jazz Fest. Did I mention that it was day 1 of Jazz Fest and my youngest would be performing with 2 of his bands for the last time that day? Yeah... Anyway, we managed to find a shop who said they'd look at it, I got to ride in a super high tow truck for 20 miles, got the car dropped off and headed down to Jazz Fest. Did I mention that the shop was now going to "try to get an estimate done" that day. Oy! On the way down to the venue, I stopped at the General Store, thinking they sell General Store type items. Nope. Wrong. They sell...fru fru crafty stuff. Not cell phone chargers which I now knew I was going to need. Scratch that. They did try to sell me a car charger. I'm sure you can imagine my expression at this offer. No car, folks. They did offer me a taffy from their bowl on the counter and after getting to the venue, I eagerly unwrapped it. After all, something good had to happen, right? Wrong. I bit down...into black licorice flavored taffy! Then I tried to wash away the flavor with strawberry lemonade! Ugh! Yep. No winning there. Fast forward to the end of the day and I get word that my car did make it to get an estimate, but wouldn't be done before noon the next day. No worries, I could book a hotel room, right? Nope. Wrong. There are only two hotels and both were booked. My choices? Sleep on a bench in the park or call the ex-husband to see if I could sleep in my oldest kid's room since he was away to school. After much dramatic sighing (by him), he agreed and I spent the evening hanging out with my youngest.

The rest of the weekend wasn't too bad. I got my car back, got to listen to some great jazz, took some pictures of the youngest and his beautiful girlfriend before prom, and then spent Sunday recovering. There was drama, but other than one small breakdown, I weathered it. I'm kind of proud of myself for that.

This week hasn't been too terrible. I've managed to complete one major project and get a lot crossed off on my to do list. My youngest is off in Anaheim at the national competition for Business Professionals of America and I got to pick my oldest up from school yesterday and I'm spending some time hanging out with him. I miss the time I used to have with my boys, but I'm proud of the young men that they've become.

There was one real tragedy from this week though and it's one that I'm still trying to process. On Tuesday, one of my closest friends asked me if I had time for a call. I don't remember the last time we actually spoke on the phone because he's in Canada so it's an expensive call and our schedules don't often match up. I said absolutely because I miss him tons. Unfortunately, it wasn't a happy call. He called to tell me that a mutual friend had died. Part of me is still in shock. Like he said, she was our age and had been taking care of her health. It's terrifying.

So, it's been very much a mixed week and a near constant roller coaster of emotions. I'm a bit tired, but I'm pushing through. I'll be doing a whirlwind trip to Canada to attend her funeral...god, I don't know if there are enough Kleenex on the planet right now...and then back home to try to survive the last few weeks of my youngest's high school career. Final band concert, senior breakfast, awards night, commencement and then his open house. I'm not ready. I'm not even going to pretend that I am.

But, like always, I will keep trying to push forward the best ways that I know how....

And also, as always, take care of yourselves and each other. There is no greater gift on this planet than love.


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