I could write pages about the days and weeks after my mom died, but I don't want to go back to that sad place. Even after this many years, I miss her every day. And I'll tell you the truth - she is always with me. You'll hear some great stories about that if you continue reading.
Suffice it to say, things did go on. I think my friends were as surprised as I was at her death. It was shocking enough to think she'd be gone in a year, but six weeks. Unreal. Yet, life did go on in the form of many game show tapings.
One of the first shows I worked upon returning from New York was - Name That Tune. There was Bruce - never to be heard from again - who told me how sorry he was to hear about my loss. My crush was on very, very low simmer.
The manly priority at that time was Chris. He'd "surprised" me upon my return with a diamond ring from Tiffany's. Oy! Marrying him was certainly not on my agenda. I doubt that I really even loved him and I certainly didn't trust him. One definitely true cliche - "marry a man who cheats on his wife and you marry a man who cheats on his wife". Same was true about live in girlfriends. We weren't even getting along. Although he did drive me to the emergency room one Saturday afternoon.
Yes, the emergency room. In those 70's days I used to smoke a little grass, turn up Barry Manilow and clean my apartment. I don't know which is the most embarrassing part of that last sentence. Well, I'd moved a wing back chair out from a corner and was cleaning around it. I forgot I'd moved the chair and as I turned I whacked my forehead solidly against the wall. Yet another reason not to clean - at least not when stoned. The bump on my head had grown from a golf ball into a soft ball by the time Chris arrived and he quickly transported me to St. Joe's, a Catholic hospital right across from NBC.
They took me in for an x-ray. St. Joe's was a Catholic hospital and the nun/nurse was in her habit - just like the nun/nurse at the hospital my mom had been in. I hadn't cried much since I'd returned from the funeral but when she asked me how I was I burst into tears and sobbed. She was kind, very kind. She patted my shoulder as I sputtered out my sad saga.
My head wasn't broken...but I believed my heart certainly was.
I wasn't ready to love anybody but I was ready to be mad...very mad.
Poor Chris!
Sunday, August 1, 2010
The Longest Flight
For the second time in ten days I was flying 3,000 miles. This time it was to go to my mother's funeral. Funeral...it made no sense. Three months ago she'd been alive, vibrant and, seemingly, just fine. And now she was gone forever.
I remember looking out the window of the plane and wondering "how can everything just keep going on without her?". I certainly didn't think I could. Perhaps at 28 I should have been a bit more prepared for losing someone. In fact, when I was home for Jody's graduation my mom and I had a long discussion about death. For some reason I felt a dread that someone close to me was going to die. I believed it would be my father, exploding in a puff of his own anger some day. I shared that with Emmy who had lost both her parents before she was 35. She said "when you lose someone and feel terrible you're just being selfish...for yourself, because you're going to miss them. But the truth is they're in a much better place. And, they will always be with you.". I understood why she had been worried about me. I wish I were as sure as she had been that I'd be all right without her.
What I remember most about her wake and funeral were the flowers. So, so many flowers. Everybody loved Emmy. She was a great friend, a funny friend and a well-loved friend. The first afternoon of the wake was somber...but when we returned from dinner for the evening "session" the room was filled with tens of flower arrangements that had been delivered during that afternoon. Strange to say, I felt like a kid at Christmas reading the cards. It was a wonderful tribute to a wonderful lady.
It was then that I truly believed in God. Someone with as much faith as my mom couldn't possibly get gypped!
I finally had faith but I surely felt terrible.
I remember looking out the window of the plane and wondering "how can everything just keep going on without her?". I certainly didn't think I could. Perhaps at 28 I should have been a bit more prepared for losing someone. In fact, when I was home for Jody's graduation my mom and I had a long discussion about death. For some reason I felt a dread that someone close to me was going to die. I believed it would be my father, exploding in a puff of his own anger some day. I shared that with Emmy who had lost both her parents before she was 35. She said "when you lose someone and feel terrible you're just being selfish...for yourself, because you're going to miss them. But the truth is they're in a much better place. And, they will always be with you.". I understood why she had been worried about me. I wish I were as sure as she had been that I'd be all right without her.
What I remember most about her wake and funeral were the flowers. So, so many flowers. Everybody loved Emmy. She was a great friend, a funny friend and a well-loved friend. The first afternoon of the wake was somber...but when we returned from dinner for the evening "session" the room was filled with tens of flower arrangements that had been delivered during that afternoon. Strange to say, I felt like a kid at Christmas reading the cards. It was a wonderful tribute to a wonderful lady.
It was then that I truly believed in God. Someone with as much faith as my mom couldn't possibly get gypped!
I finally had faith but I surely felt terrible.
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