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.