1. Steve died. Yes, yes, I've talked about it a few times. And sadly I'll never be able to put in words the things I felt for that man. He was like a mentor, a friend, and a parent wrapped up into one legend of a human being. He was all things rational, beautiful, and disfuctional. My relationship with him showed me so many things without ever being spoken. Through him, I learned what a good wife is. I also learned how to formulate a proper rebellion. Through him I learned love and hate and pain and apathy and most vital and gentle of all, I learned how one hides all those things. The thing that always, and will always bruise and scar me over Steve's death is that I was TOLD he was dying, and yet I foolishly thought that if I didn't reach out, he couldn't die. That is how I thought we were linked. He was my Dumbledore; I didn't go into a world of wizardry, I went into a world where I wasn't defined by things my parents did... which for me, was just as magical. I hope that if his children are reading this that they don't judge me too harshly. I know he failed in ways. I realize his imperfections.... that's a lie. I know some facts, but they don't sway me from truly believing that if it wasn't for him... My God... I can't fathom it. All I can see is work and pain and responsibility. He told me I didn't have to conform. He didn't know what I'd do with it.... but he was the first one to say I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to. So, I feel guilt about not calling him when I was instructed to do so. I found out he died standing on a rock; the sun blinding me as I cried.
2. Dawn died. She wasn't my closest friend. I sometimes she was full of shit. But she loved her children and absolute chance took her from them. Steve's death was beautifully orchestrated. Maybe it wasn't, but he's my big fish. Dawn is the anomally. Her death made me want to get married. Which, maybe is irrational, but my thoughts were: Why wait for anything? Why pause? Money doesn't matter, Time doesn't really matter, and details don't really matter. I knew that I wanted to marry Brian. I knew that I wanted children. And so I began to fight hard for what I wanted. Her death gave me an urgency in life.
3. Nana. For those who know me... for those who have known me, this will be the most mundane thing I ever write, but her death has ruined me. I hate how people asked me why I didn't cry at her funeral. I hate that some of my family members are angry with me over how I handled her death. Now that the immature feelings have been shared.. I'll try to be a little more descriptive. There were times in my life that I felt only loved by my grandmother. There were times that I felt like she was the only one ony my team. I didn't realize it until today, but her death was like death, the being, gripped my gooey, thumping heart and stopped its beating in a closed fist... and all this time I've been walking around without a thud. And it's been this way since the day she died. It feels like my squishy, slippery little heart was transformed into a mechanical little thing that is only concerned with in, and out. My little metal heart is only doing half of it's job. A heart feels and breaks and swells and thuds and pounds and flitters and dances and explodes. But my heart, like hers once did, just ticks like clockwork. Of course I want to call her and tell her my news or my upsets.... but its only now I see how much work it is listening to someone else's life. I miss her opinions; I miss vehemently disagreeing with them. I look back at when I started Chiropractic school and I wonder just how insane I was. In retrospect I feel down right maniacal. I wonder if this is the new me, or if I'll heal over one day and my heart will catch up to its soft and light behavior. What has been done can't be undone. I miss them so much. Just knowing they were on the same planet as me made the world a safer place. I feel like the Circus ring master and the entertainment schedule is starting to run together. It's that awful moment in a live performance when the audience starts to wonder if the scene is intentionally frantic. Things are out of order and performances are bleeding together.
So mourning is a messy business. My brain and mechanical heart are making what sense of it they can. I fear for the damage I've done to my current friendships. I feel like the people who know me best are the ones I've been avoiding... but they too have had their own sort of... lapse in universal organization. I think Nana would be proud in my ability to 'keep on keepin' on'... but at a certain point I do hope my love heart returns... so I can live a bit more than tick...tick...tick...tick....
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