under the water

Exhausted. It seems to be the natural state of affairs lately. Exhausted from what? I have no idea. Just exhausted. Maybe it is just the daily grind of life. Slowly being pulled under the wheels.

Idle chitchat. Where? No really? Then what? Fascinating. Meaningless chatter. Friend or foe? Fine line separates the two. Some move between the two more easily than others. Tale as old as time. What do you want from me? What do I want from you? No, seriously…go on…I am a captive audience. Really, I care. Or do I? It doesn’t matter…trust me…or don’t.

The nightmares returned with a vengeance last night. I dreamt that somehow my mom returned to us. She and I were driving in the car and she was telling me all about life on “the other side”. It sounded like the perfect world. I asked her why she came back if it was so incredible; she said she came back because she missed us. In a blink of an eye, we were driving the car across a lake and it was night. The darkest part of the night with only the moon above and the water like black glass. As we drove across the lake we suddenly crashed into a thick patch of trees sticking out of the water. Pine trees…tall, grand, ancient. As we crashed we quickly got out of the car and swam away as the car sank. We swam and swam, my mom having trouble swimming, until a boat came along. I swam up to the boat, holding on to my mom. The people in the boat reached over and tried to pull me up out of the water. I kept yelling at them to help my mom first. They said I was the only one there. There was no one else. I was the only one. I screamed they were lying because I was holding on to my mom…why couldn’t they see her? Then my mom slipped from my grip. I turned to grab her but the people in the boat grabbed me and started to pull me up. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t reach her. My mom just slowly sank in the water, looking at me…sinking deeper and deeper out of view…under the water.

Even though it was only a nightmare, I will never forget the look on her face as she sank under the water. I have been uneasy all day because of that dream.

It is nights like last night that make me never want to sleep again.

Four Words

I miss my mom. 4 words that sum up my entire life right now. I miss my mom.

Everything I do is overshadowed by the fact that my mom is gone and I feel disconnected from everyone and everything. I get through the day but it is mostly on autopilot. Going through the motions without emotion. My days are filled with distraction.

I went into the room where all her stuff is boxed up. The spare bedroom in the basement. The room that used to be my mom’s when she lived with my sister. My mom painted the room; she even stenciled flowers on the closet doors. Morning Glorys, she loved Morning Glorys. I just sat there for a little bit, in her old room…looking at the boxes. Horrified that this is what we are all reduced to in the end. Our prized possessions boxed away in someone’s basement. Makes you wonder what the point of anything is. But I just sat there…still. Then I cried. I looked over and the photo boards were on top of some boxes. The pictures still arranged on them from her wake and funeral. Everything still as is from when we moved her stuff. Nothing has been sorted. No one wants to do it yet. We all know once we start sorting, we also start letting go. Not ready yet. So I sat there looking at the boards with all her photos from moments through her life. A life cut too short.

I still cannot deal with the fact that she is gone. I lost my mom and my best-friend at once. A devastating blow. If someone would have told me years ago that I would be motherless at the age of 30, I would have told them they were absolutely insane. She was 21 years older than I. It is pretty common for people to live into their 80’s these days. I thought I would be in my 60’s before I would have to worry about her passing on. Guess I was off by thirty-some years.

I am slowly realizing that there really is no one in this world that can ease the pain. There is no one in this world that can make it better. There is no one in this world that can fill the void. There is no one in this world that can give me back what I lost. Slowly realizing…

Four words…
I miss my mom.

Four words…
I love my mom.

Fat Actor

319

For the love of God and all that is holy in this world…319.

Did you hear the scream? It was deafening.

oink

Tonight was a rude awakening. Very rude. I had to squeeze through the shower door to get into the shower. At first it did not seem real. I thought it was not possible for me to be too big to fit through the door. How could it be? Clearly something was wrong and it wasn’t me. Wrong. It was me. I tried getting into the shower in every possible angle and manner only to discover that I am simply fat. No jokes about it. Not big-boned. Not baby weight. Not chubby. But simply fat. It was very similar to the opening of Kirstie Alley’s “Fat Actress” where she weighs herself and has a nervous breakdown on the scale. Very similar indeed.

In all honesty this is the biggest I have ever been. I haven’t weighed myself yet. I have to first either work up a great deal of courage or be really, really, really drunk. I know this is the biggest I have ever been because I can feel it. I can feel the weight like never before. All my clothes don’t fit. Breathing makes me sweat. I look terrible. I have always been big, but since my mom’s death my weight has truly has spun out of control. The curse of being an emotional eater. I promised my mom that I would try to lose weight. I am not even failing because I have not tried at all. Always tomorrow. Well, the problem with that is that today adds up. It adds up quickly when you gain everyday.

The other night I was tagging along with a couple of friends who were clothes shopping. I hate clothes shopping. Most fat people do. They are skinny guys…so of course everything they picked up would fit perfectly. I don’t think that has ever happened to me. I remember shopping for Husky Jeans in the fourth grade. Husky. A polite way of saying fat, I guess. Later that night a tiny car passed by us. A smurf mobile of sorts. I looked at the car and made a joke about needing the jaws of life to get me out of it. My friend looked at me and said “I know a guy who is seriously bigger than you and he has a car like that.” Seriously bigger than you. Seriously bigger than you. Seriously bigger than you. What am I? The eighth world wonder. I am now a tool of measurement and comparison for other fat people in the world. Seriously bigger than me. Ugh. This is the same friend that years ago called me one night while he was drunk to let me know that I was fat. Thanks. I had not noticed. Note to self: You are fat. Got it. Point taken. I am fat. Glad that I was woken up out of a deep sleep for that newsflash. Funny how moments like that stay with one for many years. He doesn’t remember it. Probably because he was drunk, I would imagine. But, I remember it vividly…probably because I was sober and very insulted. Anyways…I don’t think I will go shopping with them again. Ever.

I brushed my teeth. I have this weird thing where I won’t eat after I brush my teeth before bed. I have to go to bed with clean teeth and I am too lazy to brush them again. Insane. I know. But, it is true. I have gone to bed starving because I had already brushed my teeth. I think I will brush my teeth all day tomorrow so I won’t eat. Lord knows I don’t have any self control.

I don’t understand fully why I have never been able to get a grasp on my weight. So many other aspects of my life I simply make up my mind and that is that. But with my weight it is a whole other story.

In all honesty, as ridiculous as it sounds, I am kind of scared to be thin. I think I hide behind my weight a great deal. It is easier to be the fat guy on the sidelines than the skinny guy in the center of the field. I also worry about losing myself with the loss of weight. For as long as I can remember, I have been overweight. It is all I know. Everything else is foreign to me. Bizarre, but true. It is like how people freak out about changing their hair color; well imagine changing your entire body.

I am going to bed. If the phone rings I am not answering it. I already know I am fat. He can leave a message.

Hindsight 20/20

A year ago today I was laid off from my job. At the time it was a horrible thing to happen. I was in a state of shock. Even though I was laid off, I felt like I was being fired. I had never been fired from a job in my life. I could not believe it. My mom had been diagnosed with cancer five months prior and now I was losing my job. In my mind 2004 was the worst year ever.

Hindsight is 20/20.

Now, I realize it was the best thing to happen to me. That weekend I pretty much unofficially moved home even though I still had my apartment in the cities. Everything truly does happen for a reason. My being laid off gave me time to return home and be with my mom for her last 10 months of life on this Earth. Had I known her time was so limited, I would have quit my job and returned home the day she was diagnosed. We all thought the cancer could be beat. We were all wrong. We were all wrong on so many things. 2005 is the worst year ever. It is the year my mom died.

random people, random events, random thoughts

Déjà vu. I have been here before.

At the store today a woman, whom I used to work for years ago, came bounding down the aisle and let out a huge “Hi Jason! How’s your mom doing?”. Once again the world stopped and I stood there and thought to myself…”not again”. So I told her that my mom passed away back in April and she was mortified and felt terrible. She said she had no idea. I know she meant no harm but I could have done without that whole incident. I still have moments where it doesn’t feel real. Then reality hits and it feels like you are being swallowed by the earth. I think of her every day. I miss her every day. I still cry every day.

Later at another store another bizarre encounter. I was passing a man and he looked at me and smiled and said “Well, Mr. Schommer…how have you been?” I looked at him and did not recognize him at all. I honestly don’t think I have ever seen him before in my life. I just looked at him and politely said “fine thanks, yourself?” and quickly walked away.

And Superman was out on the street corner by the Dairy Queen again. Yes, I said Superman. No lie. This guy (who has got to have more than a few screws loose) dresses up as Superman and stands on the street corner with an American flag. Honest. He has done it ever since September 11, 2001. I wish I was making it up, but I am not. One of my friends did not believe me and once when he was out I happened to have my camera. So I had to circle the block a few times to get a good picture. He gave me thumbs up. He is probably in his 40’s, very overweight and, I think, mentally a few fries short of a happy meal. I often wonder what he does for a job given all the hours he logs in standing on the street corner. Oh well..to each their own, I guess. Maybe someday I will finally mentally snap too and dress up as Batman and stand kitty-corner from him. We could join forces and protect the intersection from evil-doers.

My aunt and uncle stopped by for a visit. My mom’s brother. It is hard to see them because it makes it even more apparent that my mom is gone. It’s not as if I could ever forget…but it just makes it much more vivid. There is a family reunion this August. I doubt I will go. It would be awkward in every sense of the word. You can pick your friends but you can’t pick your family. Just a square peg in a land populated by circles.

This evening I went out to supper with a couple of friends and to the movie “Bewitched”. I enjoyed the movie as did Tyler. Bob fell asleep. So far I do not have a good track record with picking out movies with Bob. The last one we saw as “Monster-In-Law” and I am still living that one down. By the way…why is Jennifer Lopez famous? A question I will never be able to answer.

At the ATM machine…acts of rage. I could not remember my pin number. Not at all. Once I realized I did not remember my pin I felt nothing but panic. Every number combination that I had to learn in my life came flooding back. I could remember my gym locker combination from the 6th grade. I could remember my bike lock combination from 1984. I could remember the entire multiplication table. But, I could not remember a simple series of 4 numbers for anything in the world. Finally I remembered after it was too late. A series of numbers so simple, how could anyone forget? Ugh. And for the record, I hate the fact that I have to pay money to get my money. How much crap is that? Seriously. Every time I am in a pinch and have to use an ATM machine that is not my bank’s ATM I just want to drop my pants and bend over while entering my pin and scream to everyone passing me by “I am being screwed!”

Sometimes I feel like I am standing the eye of the storm of crazies. There are lunatics swirling all around me.

I have been contemplating a return to stand up comedy. Not sure if I am brave enough. Or more importantly…if I am funny enough.

Little moments. Small chunks of time spent doing trivial things that eventually ends up to being a day. At the end of the day sitting and realizing that you really did nothing of any great importance at all. Tomorrow off to the cities. More of nothing.

It has been hard to write lately. Very difficult. I feel like changes need to be made. I feel like I am at a crossroads of sorts. There are moments of clarity. Brief. Then the fog rolls in again. I have questions that need answers. I have answers that don’t make sense because I never fully understood the question. I need to find peace in the chaos. I need to find the good in those I hate or just let them go completely. I need to be quiet and listen. I need to move forward. I need to remember my goals and dreams. I need to figure out who I am. I need to find myself again. The soul is restless.

A single thought keeps going through my mind. “Are you proud of what you have become?” The answer truthfully is no. Absolutely not. A few years ago I was watching an interview with Ricky Martin. (yes…yes…I know…Ricky Martin…no comment) Anyways, he said something very profound for being the one who gave the world “She Bangs”. When asked if he was proud of what he accomplished he said…”You have to look inward. You have to go back to that five year old version of yourself. The version that thinks they can do anything in the world…and you ask that five year old version of yourself, are you proud of what you have become?”

That thought has always stayed with me. I know for a fact that the five year old version of me would most definitely not be proud. That is a tough pill to swallow. Changes need to be made. I hate change. Maybe that is the first thing I need to work on.

the grass grows

the drum beats out of time...

she was buried two months ago today.

No Title

Lately everything feels like a test. I am sorry to say I think I am failing.

click your heels three times...

Today is Father’s Day. All in all a typical Father’s Day for our family. We had a bar-b-que at my sister’s house. My dad came down for it. Just an afternoon of talking and eating. It was much like all the other Father’s Days in so many ways, yet very different at the same time. Even though it was a day to celebrate fathers, we all had one thought going through our minds today and that thought was the memory of our Mom. It felt weird to be celebrating anything when she has only been gone for two months now.

When shopping this morning for a gift for my dad I decided to also get my niece, Isabella, a gift. I found a pair of little ruby shoes just like the ones Dorothy wore in The Wizard of Oz at Marshall Fields. I had to get them. The made me laugh hard. Of course Isabella loved them. She had to wear them right away. It was quite a sight to see little Isabella, only 18 months old, running around the house in ruby shoes. Just click your heels three times and you will be home again. Nice thought, isn’t it.

This evening Isabella was looking at her little photo album. She has some pictures of her and her Grandma (my mom). She always kisses the pictures. This is strange given the fact that Isabella never kisses anyone…except her little friend Alex, who is 6 months older than her. Isabella doesn’t even kiss her parents much at all. But, she kisses her pictures of Grandma. Melissa asked me if I had the big 8 X 10 picture of our Mom here. I did. It was in my room downstairs. I went and got it and Melissa showed Isabella. Isabella immediately lit up. She smiled ear from ear and grabbed the picture and kissed it. She must have kissed it a hundred times. She just kept looking at it and kissing it. It was such a precious moment yet also tragic beyond words. I just sat there and cried. My sister cried as well.

I just wish we could all click our heels three times and be home again.

Kindness From A Child

Yesterday I had gone back to my apartment with the intention of getting some things done. Did not happen. I pretty much sat on the couch and thought of all the stuff I needed to be doing but decided against.

I think it was because it was the day that marked two months since my mom’s death that left me drained physically and emotionally. Each day is a blessing and curse. A blessing because it is a day closer to seeing her again. A curse because it is another day without her.

So I did nothing of any great accomplishment.

I watched Oprah. I hardly watch Oprah. I like her; I just never watch the show much. But, there I sat…watching Oprah. Oprah said something that I thought was so simple yet so profound. They were discussing forgiveness and the concept of it. And how when you forgive someone, it is not about the other person but rather about you. You are allowing yourself to let go of the anger and allowing yourself to move on with your life. It is not about welcoming the other person back into your life. It is not about letting the other person off the hook. It is not about them. It is about you. Oprah said “Forgiveness is letting go of the hope that the past could be different.” Interesting. I had never thought of forgiveness in that light before.

My roommate’s niece was up visiting. I think she is 8 or so…somewhere in there. The first thing she said to me was “I am sorry about your mom.” I just looked at her and said “thank you.” Here is this child, whom I met once before and she had the kindness to acknowledge my loss, when there are so many others who just choose to ignore it. I am left speechless when I think about how I actually have friends who have never acknowledged my mom’s death. Speechless. It is wrong beyond words. So wrong. Yet it is also a sad truth. People can be such a huge disappointment. They really can.

Someday I might forgive you for letting me down so greatly in my darkest days. But not today and probably not tomorrow. Hopefully someday though. But forget? Never. I will never forget.

From a child an offering of kindness. From adults an act of coldness.

2 Months

It feels like an eternity.

one step forward, two steps back

Terrible night. Really terrible. Emotional break of sorts. Death is a force to be reckoned with. That is a fact. People are different. Some clearly move on quicker. Others find it hard to move at all. I think I am in the latter group. Friday marks two months. Two long months. Looking forward…it all seems impossible. Then again, two months ago today seemed impossible. But here I am. There were many days I did not think I would make it this far. Skewed perspective to say the least.

After this evenings practice…a long, difficult practice…one of those practices where I question why I even do theatre, I missed my mom greatly. I did not know what to do, so I drove out to the cemetery. I figured the gates would be locked. They weren’t. I sat in the cemetery, by myself, in the dark for a very long time. If you knew me, you would never believe it. But, it is true. I just sat there, looking at her tombstone, trying to make some sense out of it all. Dare to do the impossible. Finding Bigfoot. Communicating with Aliens. Petting the Loch Ness Monster. All those things seem easier to do than to try and make sense out of death. Death. Natural. Fact of life. It is going to happen to all us at some point. Yet it remains one of life’s greatest mysteries.

In the dark…one thought kept going through my mind over and over and over. In my mom’s final few days she was seeing her mom who had passed away 20 years ago this year. One afternoon my mom saw her mother in the room and her mother told her that it would soon be her time and she would be back to get her. My mom looked at me and told me this. I knew it was true. My mom was a sensible woman. She never had seen her mom around before. She wasn’t confused. I knew every word of it was true. I broke down. Shattered into a million pieces. I knew the end was near. I could feel it. I was crying so hard I really thought I was going to pass out. My mom grabbed my hand and told me that when it is my time to go she will come for me. She promised me.

Two months. It is not getting easier. It is getting harder. I am not alone. My sister is in the same boat and we have lost the oars. Just drifting. I don’t know why it is getting harder, I really don’t. Maybe because it is becoming more real. As if it was not real enough to begin with. I was there. I saw it with my own two eyes. There is no denying it. Holding on to someone as they literally die is a moment that stays with you.

A year ago today my mom bought me a ticket to Madonna’s Reinvention Tour. It was an early birthday present. It was for the concert that was on Sunday, July 11…exactly one week before my birthday. I remember June 15, 2004 vividly. A year from now, I hope that today is a blur. I do not want to remember June 15, 2005. I don’t want to remember much of 2005 at all.

My friend who lost her brother nine years ago understands. She is a senior member of the club. We are card carrying members against our will, like all the others. She is sane. Very sane. When I feel crazy she lets me know that I am not. I find hope in her strength. A light in the dark. She gets it. She is up ahead on this path we are traveling. This path with no end. She is one of the very few who truly understand the process. There are others who should understand…but don’t. They have been where I stand now. But, they are too caught up in themselves. Fine. Whatever gets you through your day. Denial is a wonderful coping tool, they have mastered it and have come far. An accomplishment most impressive. I give you a round of applause. But, I hope you are somewhere safe when it catches up to you…it won’t be pretty. Run. Run. Run. Run as fast as you can. But, unfortunately, sooner or later you’ll need to stop and catch your breath. Sooner or later…

I don’t have the strength to run. Sometimes I am just proud that I am even standing.

Radio: Signs From Above

Note: To understand this post, you must read yesterdays post first.

I listened to Spirit 92.9 as much as I possibly could today. I listened to the radio station while driving around town doing errands. I listened to all the way to Little Falls for play practice and back home again. I listened to it a lot. I heard a lot of different songs. I also heard some songs over and over and over. I even heard a song with the word “Tabernacle” in it. And incase you were wondering the song structure did not have a rhyming word with it. I know, I know, I know…I too was disappointed. Not too many words leap to mind when trying to rhyme “Tabernacle”. Anyways…the point being….I did not hear “Testify to Love” or “I Can Only Imagine” a single time. Not once. They are not on the regular play list. So yes, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I do think it was some sort of sign from my mom that I happened to hear them, back to back, last night while driving past the CentraCare Cancer Center. I really do.

Signs. Signs. Everywhere are signs. Open your eyes. Open your ears. Open your heart. You will find them when you least expect it, but when you need them the most. Signs.

Back on the Horse

I spent the weekend in my apartment this weekend. The first time I spent a night there in over two and a half months. I went back not really because I wanted to, but rather because I felt I should. Another attempt at getting back into the full swing of life met with moderate success.

Friday night I caught up with an old friend for dinner. It was nice to catch up. I had not talked to him since my mom’s funeral. It is strange, he is one of the few people who will ask how I am doing and actually mean it. It doesn’t seem to bother him for me to talk about my mom. Others are too uncomfortable with it. They won’t ask, they can’t ask, they don’t ask. But, he does. Afterwards while driving home I was overcome with this enormous sense of loss. I just started to cry and could not stop. Everything just seemed so pointless. Hard to explain, but it really felt like nothing really mattered anymore. I just wanted to get back to the apartment and sleep.

My roommate had a friend visiting for the weekend. I met her on Saturday. She was quite a bit of fun and the morning and early afternoon was spent talking and laughing. Laughing a lot. She has a quick wit, which I enjoy. After they left for sightseeing, I spent the majority of the day unpacking boxes of my mom’s belongings. I came across a box of old videotapes. One of the tapes was of my sister’s wedding. Nine years ago. I was curious and put in the tape and started to watch it. I saw my mom. I started to cry. There she was…walking, talking, laughing. Memories of the day of my sister’s wedding came flooding back. I just kept crying. After the wedding the footage was of the reception. After a little bit it showed my mom and I dancing together. I could not believe it. I am so thrilled to have it, but it is still too raw. Catch 22 once again. I had to stop the tape I was crying too much. I was nearing a breakdown. I at least had enough wits about me to stop the tape before I had a complete and total meltdown. Someday I will watch the rest of the tape. After that, I just went to bed. I did not even want to be conscious anymore. That night I had dreams that my mom was still alive. That it had all been a mistake. I am sure that the dreams were brought on by the discovery of the tape. It was a rather long night.

Sunday I did nothing but unpack more boxes and lay on my bed.

There it was…my first weekend back at my apartment. Baby steps.

I just kept feeling a sense of aimlessness all weekend. I felt like I should be somewhere else, doing something else…even though I had no where to really be or anything else to do. I was beyond antsy. It didn’t feel right. I think that it is because that pretty much the past year and half has been so concentrated on my mom that I have trouble getting back to my life. She was the focus and now she is gone. I don’t really know how to go about living for me again. I don’t know how to do shift the focus back to me and my goals and my dreams. I start to panic when I think about August coming around and the play being done. What then? What next? What? What? What?

Death of a loved one changes people. It truly does. I am not a completely different person, but there have been some drastic changes. People may not notice, but I do. Changes in my thoughts and thinking. Changes in my personality. Changes in my outlook and perspective. I look the same on the outside, but on the inside I am different. One of the worse changes is my lack of patience with people. Not that I was a terribly patient person to begin with…but it is much worse now. I look at some people and the only conclusion I come to is that they truly are a test from God. Often times, I fail the test. Crash and burn.

Strange event of the day.

After play practice I was driving my friend home that I had picked up for practice. After I drop him off at his place I was heading to my sisters and I turned up the radio. The song that was being played I was unfamiliar with…as in never heard before in my life, so I decided to wait and see if the next song would be any good. I started to think about my mom and was getting angry once again that she died and was only 51. I started to debate in my mind the eternal battle of “is this all a grand plan” or “is it truly just a series of random events”. All of a sudden the next song starts and I recognize it immediately. It is Testify to Love. So I immediately look down and realize that my radio is on the Christian music station Spirit 92.9. Now I have nothing against Christian music or anything, I just hardly listen to it…ever. Apparently I must have had the radio on scan on my way to practice and when I shut it off it stopped on this station. I had not changed stations at all on the way home, but had it turned down…which is why I never noticed what it was on. Strange thing…Testify to Love was the song used as the finale at my mom’s benefit in April 2004 and was also used at her funeral this April 2005. So I start thinking that this is really odd. As soon as the song ends, the next one begins. It is “I Can Only Imagine” which was also sung at my mom’s funeral. I had never heard the song until I was picking out music for the funeral with Terri and she asked if I was familiar with it. She played it for me, the lyrics and music were great and I decided to include it in the funeral.

It was very strange how thing worked out for me to hear those two songs at the very moment. Had Bob not been riding with me tonight, I would have never waited so long to turn up the radio. I would have probably been listening to a tape. Had we not finished rehearsal early we would not have been to his house so early and I would not have turned up the radio until after they had been played. It was weird that those two specific songs were played back to back and they both have very specific meanings to me. There were 10 songs played at my mom’s funeral. Angel, Scarbourgh Fair, Any Dream Will Do, Testify to Love, I Can Only Imagine, Into the West, Thy Word, Song of Farewell, Agnus Dei, and City of God. Tonight in a span of 7 minutes, I heard two of them…back to back after I started thinking about her while driving down Highway 15 as I was passing the cancer center.

A sign? Not a sign? It really doesn’t matter. The truth is…it made me remember her in a loving way and I did find comfort…if only for a moment.

You have to admit though…regardless of what you believe in this world. It does take an awful lot of things happening just right to be in the right place at the right time to have something like this happen. Had anything been different…driving alone, practice not getting out early, the radio not on scan hours before, a different route home…anything been different, I would have missed it. True story.

iNSaNiTy

Still trying to figure it all out. A map without a legend. A legend without a map. Useless. Throw it away. Not knowing where to begin. Not sure I would even recognize the end. One step forward, two steps back. Swing, swing, swing…pendulum swings. Signs. Here, there, everywhere. Signs. Are they signs or is just desperation or wishful thinking. Answers. Where are they? Not here. Not there. Where? Maybe over there…if only I could get there. “I am sorry; you can’t get there from here.” Time. Goes fast. Time. Goes slow. Time goes…tick, tock, tick, tock…over and over…tick, tock, tick, tock…until it makes you crazy. In time we all go crazy. It is just a matter of time. We will all end up in the land of Looney, sooner or later. Save me a seat if you get there before me. It will be fun, I promise. Just wear comfortable shoes.

Up, down, up, down. The roller coaster gains speed. Sadness, anger, hurt, happiness, sorrow, serenity, hope, despair, angst, calm, rage, joy all rolled up into each second of the day. Emotions like a lottery. Each ball an emotion. Pop, pop, pop…never know which one it will be until if pops out of the basket. Move on, move forward, move back. Just move. Keep moving. But…when you move, you can’t be found. Catch 22. Is anyone even looking? Call off the search party. No use. Always on the move. Noise. Too much noise. The crowd sings the chorus of “poor me”. I just want to say “enjoy what you have before it is too late”. I also want to say “it doesn’t matter, it just simply doesn’t matter”. I also want to say “I don’t care. Trust me, I don’t.” But, I don’t say anything other than “uh huh”. Noise. Chatter. Racket. Noise. Never ending noise. Can you hear the people sing?

Pulled down. Deeper and deeper. No air. No light. No sound. Deeper down. Cracked. Torn. Ripped. Falling. Falling. Falling. No net. Falling. Waves rush in. Swept away by the tide. Currents catch and pull. The flood comes. Who will save me? Save yourself. Swim, swim, swim. Swim for your life. Swim and live. When all else fails…float. Tears. Float. Hope floats…or does it? Doubtful. Shadows. Figures move in the dark. Watch out. Leave the light on. Never turn off the light. In the light, there can be no darkness. Or so we are lead to believe.

Connected. Woven. Joined. You. Them. Me. All together. Together it is called “we”. We are all connected. Some how, some way. All for one, one for all. Until one falls out of favor. Gone. Kicked out. You were…now your not. Goodbye, Hello. Revolving door. Watch the world, our world, from the outside. Outside looking in. Never ending story. “So good to see you, it has been too long.” Not really. Just something to say. Have to be polite. If not polite, what are we? Better to be polite than to be real. Real is rude. No one is real anymore.

Forgiveness. Given more easily than received. Forgive and forget? Never. Forgive and remember. If it happens once, shame on you. If it happens twice, shame on me. Quotes. Famous people’s legacy. Quotes. Words. Meaningful. Words. Empty. Depends on who is saying them. From them, words carry such weight. From you, words mean nothing. Where were you when I needed you most? Nevermind, I know. Probably looking in the mirror. You were always your most favorite subject. Habits die hard. Not that you would notice, or care. When I see you again. If I see you again. Beware. Touch. Beware. You might catch it. Emotional leprosy. Loss of control. You stand over there. Safe. Just ignore. Like you always do…unless it is about you. Your favorite words consist of only “me”. Does every sentence of yours truly start with “I”? Does the word “you” even exist in your world? You are such a good friend. Really you are. Trust me. Would I lie to YOU?

World. Universe. Sun, Moon, Stars, Earth. Heaven. Hell. Anything in between? Words of the prophecy. Behold, I am coming soon.

More than this? Maybe. Hopefully. Better be. If not, best to find out after it is too late. Too late. Again, the clock ticks. Missed opportunities. Second chances? Do they exist? Do they really come around again? Pray they do. Could be a long wait. Wait. Nothing else to do. Aren’t we all waiting for something? Waiting for love. Waiting for a second chance. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for something more than this. Waiting. Just take a number and wait. Waiting in line. Always a line. A fine line between love and hate. Or so I have heard. Not really sure, myself. There are no lines…only a blurry fade. Fade to black. Black as night. Can’t find the path, can’t find the way. Which way is up? Which way is down? North, East, South or West. Which way is home? Home…haven’t been there since she died. Home…destroyed to the foundation. Home…doesn’t exist anymore. Home is where the heart is. Not easy to find when the heart is broken. Nomad. Loose in the world. Roaming. Wandering. Seeking. Searching, but never finding. Pieces of me.

The ones remain. Not the same.

We meet again. My old nemesis and I. Silence. I look at him and I just want to say…Get behind me Satan. But, I don’t. I know it would disappoint the one who is gone but still means more to me than anyone else in the world. Because of her, I simply don’t say…

random

Today I called my step-dad to see if he had heard from the granite works about my mom’s tombstone. He did. They called this morning. He did not think it was important to relay any sort of message to us, her kids, apparently. He said that they were going to hope to have the tombstone out to the grave by Friday. I don’t know why I felt the urge to call him and ask. I was cleaning my room and the idea popped into my mind and I could not shake it.

Tonight before practice I stopped out at the cemetery. The tombstone was there. Apparently in some people’s world there is not difference between Wednesday and Friday. I was not prepared to see it. I wish I had been. It was heartbreaking. Another visible piece of evidence that she is gone. I was crying before I even got to it. I could see it in the distance. I cried and cried and cried. It was really difficult to see for the first time. Her picture is on it. It doesn’t seem right, she was so young still. Only 51. Never going to be older. Ever. But, like everything I guess you deal with it somehow and move on. Not necessarily forward, but on. Muster all your strength and move on.

I did not call my step-dad to tell him that the tombstone was there already. Important messages can be lost on both sides of the fence. Clearly.

This morning I woke up early so I could tape Madonna’s appearance on The View. It was listed wrong online so I actually got up an hour earlier than I needed to. I was so tired. I did not fall asleep until almost 4 AM the night before. I knew that if I went back to bed, I would probably miss it. So I decided to just watch another show until The View came on. I surfed through some channels and came across The Montel Williams Show. My mom used to watch his show all the time, so I stopped for a minute to watch. His guest was the psychic Sylvia Browne. My mom loved it when Sylvia was on. She believed that there was something real about her and her abilities. My mom would have me watch it with her. I found it odd that I was up at this time, the wrong time, and Montel happened to be on with Sylvia. Was it just a random chance or not? Who knows? But, I watched it. I found some comfort in it. Sylvia was talking to people about their loved ones they have lost and how they are still with them. She talked to some people who’s loved ones were murdered or missing…offering them hope for the answers they were seeking. She answered people’s questions about love, careers, health, and so on. Most were thrilled with their answers, others were not so happy. Almost all were impressed with the knowledge she had about their situations. Almost all believed; you could see it in their expressions, their reactions and their tears. My mom often talked about having a reading and that I should do it too. I have been thinking about it a great deal. Especially lately. I think I might do it. I might get answers I want, I might not get anything at all. I guess I don’t really even know what I want to know. I just want to know something. Anything. A leap of faith, I guess.

Tonight after rehearsal, a kid in the show who has some disabilities came up to me and asked if I wanted to look at his ideas for a movie he wants to make. I sat there, looking at all of his drawings and rough sketches for storyboards that he was so proud to show me, thinking how bad I felt for him. I could not imagine what it would be like to be in his world. I had no idea who he was before the play started. He auditioned one day and even though I knew he had certain challenges, I thought it would be good for him to be a part of the show. But, if you would have told me two months ago that I would be sitting at play rehearsal and looking at the sketches of some kid who has learning difficulties, I would have said you were insane. Two months ago my mom was in her final days and I did not think I would survive myself. The pain too much. The loss too great. The sorrow too raw. Another random moment in the day.

It seems so random sometimes how people float in and out of our lives. It seems so random sometimes how things turn out despite our intentions. It seems so random sometimes how we somehow end up in the right place at the right time.

So random. Or is it?

"How's your mom doing?"

Tonight after rehearsal a cast member of the show I am directing asked me how my mom was doing. I just stopped for a moment and thought to myself “is this really happening again”. After a moment I said that she passed away in April. She was quiet and said that she was really sorry. I told her it was ok and not to worry about it. I know she meant no harm and was being sincere. But, how many times is this going to happen? How is it even possible at this point to know me personally and not know that my mom has passed away? I just don’t get it. I really don’t.

Life continues in the twilight zone, it just gets weirder and weirder.

Tale as old as time...

It began tonight. The tale as old as time. “Beauty and the Beast” rehearsals officially kicked off this evening. I can tell already this is going to be one for the record books. Community theatre is such an interesting creature. It really is. So many wildly different personalities, egos and temperaments coming together for a single project. They do it because they love theatre. No other reason. No one gets rich in community theatre. No on gets famous in community theatre. No one gets even thanked in community theatre. It is a labor of love…beginning to end.

So tonight it all began…again. I have done this a hundred times. This is my 15th summer with this group. 15 years. Literally half of my life. This summer will be my last with this group. The only thing that kept me in my hometown was my mom. Now that she is gone, there is nothing keeping me there at all…except a promise that was made on her deathbed. A promise I am keeping. Once it has been kept and all is done, I will be moving on. The end has begun. Tonight the final chapter has started. Soon this book will close, it’s story reaching the final conclusion and an new book will be opened in a new world with brand new characters starring in a new story.

Everything feels different so far. I was nervous tonight. I have such high expectations for this show and the people in it and myself. The bar has been raised high. Very high. I hope I am not a disappointment or vice-versa.

Time will tell…in this tale as old time.

Before rehearsal I went out to my mom’s grave and left a rose for her. It was difficult. I broke down before I even drove into the cemetery. I have been thinking about my mom a lot today. More than I have been the past few days. I miss her a great deal. Words cannot express. The void left in her passing is vast and great. Every time I blink or my wanders for a second I have a flash of a memory of her. There she is…sitting on the couch, standing in the kitchen, riding in my car…I see her…as she was. I am beyond horrified at the thought of never talking to her again. The thought of it stops me dead in my tracks. I just can’t seem to get past it. Maybe enough time has not yet passed. Maybe it is doing the show and her not being part of it. Maybe I am just losing my mind. Maybe… Maybe… Maybe. A million different conclusions starting with maybe. I try to accept it. I just can’t though. It is too painful. It is too bizarre. It is too real. I just cannot even begin to phantom what it will be like to never talk to her again. If I live to be 80…that would be another 50 years without her being in my life. It just doesn’t seem possible. It honestly feels like she is just away on vacation or something. I find myself thinking about what needs to be done when she comes back. But she is not coming back. She isn’t ever coming back. My brain refuses to believe it. My heart refuses to believe it. My soul refuses to believe it. It is scary because the more I get back to real life; the more real it seems that she isn’t gone after all. The more I go about my daily routine, the more it seems that it has all been a huge mistake and she is still alive. The more I live, the more it seems she is alive as well. It is not in the “she will always be with you” way, but rather the “she is alive and well, just out of town” way. Denial rears it’s ugly head once again. I feel like I am setting myself up for the fall of a lifetime, but I can’t stop it. Oh God…

After practice I just sat in the car and cried. I can’t believe she is missing this. I really can’t. Normally I would be sitting up with her right now, talking about the show, the people, the ideas we have. Not this time. Now I am just sitting here alone. She wanted to do this show for so long, it just isn’t right that she is not here for it now. Just days before we found out she was dying she was telling me about her plans for the costumes and how excited she was about getting started on them. It simply isn’t right how it has turned out. It really isn’t.

Everything feels like a sick joke gone wrong. How is this possible? How? How. how.

just another day

This past weekend we had to move the remaining possessions of my mom’s from her house. Everything is now packed away in storage, my sister’s house or my car. Basically everything is stored where ever it would fit right now. Phase One: Removing Possessions accomplished. Now begins Phase Two: The Sorting. It makes me sick to my stomach every time I have to sort through my mom’s things and decide if it is to keep or to throw away. I want to keep everything. I don’t want to throw anything of hers away. I feel like I am losing her all over again. Life feels like the movie “Groundhog Day” once more. Every day is the same. I think part of it is knowing that once the sorting is finally done, it is really over. At least if I have her stuff and it isn’t sorted I know that it isn’t completely done…parts of her life still remain. I know…I know…crazy…I know.

It is just with each passing day I am moving further away from her. Hours have turned into days, days into weeks, and weeks into almost two months. In twelve days it will be two months since her death. Soon it will be two months since I saw her, spoke to her or spent time with her. It still doesn’t seem real.

While moving her things out of my step-father’s house I saw the hummingbirds. My mom loved hummingbirds. Hummingbirds were the only birds she enjoyed. Every year on Mother’s Day she would put out the hummingbird feeder right outside the window at the kitchen table. She would wait and like clockwork the hummingbirds would arrive on Mother’s Day. Rain or shine, the birds came. You could set your watch by it. This year she did not make it to Mother’s Day. She did not see the birds arrive. Neither did I. I saw them this weekend though, and it brought me to tears.

I just cannot believe she is gone. I still feel so lost. I feel like a paper sailboat floating downstream…slowing sinking as it goes.

Today I ran some errands. As I pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot, the Tim McGraw song “Live Like You Were Dying” came on the radio. Which was odd, since it wasn’t a country radio station. Tim’s father passed away not too long ago from cancer. My mom had given me the Reader’s Digest article about Tim, his father and their journey through cancer. The minute I heard the song it triggered the memory of my mom giving me the article to read. I cried. I cried and cried and cried. I just sat in my car and cried. I then shut off the car, took a deep breath and continued with the day. You never know when those moments will hit, and that is the scary part. All of sudden, like a tidal wave…everything comes crashing down around you. The moments are not as frequent, but they are just as intense.

Tomorrow I begin Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. I cannot believe it is starting already. I feel overwhelmed, good thing I have a pretty solid poker face. My mom made me promise that I would still direct the show when we found out she was dying. I tried to get out of it, but she would not let me. She told me she would be greatly disappointed if I did not do it. So I am. Part of me understands now why she made me promise her I would. It is forcing me to get back on the horse so to say. If I wasn’t doing this show…I don’t know if I ever would do one again. I like to think I would, but I honestly doubt it. I would probably just lay in the bed and wait until it was my time to meet my maker. But…now…tomorrow night I will be working back onstage with a cast of nearly a hundred. The promise is making me rejoin the land of the living. In my heart I am thankful for that.

I am tired…I know already that tomorrow is going to be a long day.

sounds like...

The noise in my mind is back and louder than ever. Constant. Relentless. Ferocious. Noise. No words. No thoughts. No nothing. Just noise. It sounds like when you turn on a TV and there is no cable…just that white, static, fuzz noise. It is so loud and unexpected that you panic.

Welcome to my mind.

I did not write yesterday because I could not really think. I tried but the noise was too loud. Same as today. Even now, at this hour…the house is quiet…dead quiet and I can’t think. Static noise louder than ever.

It won’t stop.

Signal scrambled.

It is like the roar of the crowd of millions. It is like the sound of a freight train in a tunnel. It is like the screech of nails on a chalkboard. It is the sound of hearing someone you love die.

It is a sound you never forget.

Sounds like...hell.

Noise.