I just read Nancy's blog about the memorial service. I am thinking this fall is symbolic in my life, as my very dear adopted mother is really struggling with her battle against cancer, and my best friend's father-in-law just died. Today I had a voicemail from another friend, having to cancel a date because her mom suddenly went in for open-heart surgery.
I have this picture of my dear Carole (the mom) by my computer, and I feel like crying every time I see it. It's of the two of us, looking so happy, holding my little son together when he was a few weeks old. That picture is so full of LIFE! And now, the leaves are turning brown, and falling all over, and I keep seeing funeral processions heading to Calverton, and I can't stand it...I don't want to think of this for Carole, or my dad, or my husband's aging relatives...
and then, there are the unexpected deaths, like the boy in Wading River who just committed suicide (there's a lot of that going on in that school. What is it over there? Something in the water, like the nest of breast cancer in Shoreham???)
I know death is a part of life, and all the religious and non-religious sentiments connected to it. But for me, I just don't want to deal with this. I just want LIFE.
3 comments:
Thanks for your good post. Death is not a happy subject, for sure. I want life, too! Another half would be wonderful.
For some reason, though, I always thought I would die young...
If my life ended imminently, what would it have been about? I actually asked myself that question today while waiting at someone's office. For the most part, the stories of my life are personal. The most complete record is probably in the possession of my therapist. (Maybe that's part of my problem.) If there was a memorial service for me, the words would be hard to find. Which is ironic since I'm always searching for words. I guess I'd like to think that other than the important tasks of marrying well and raising a family and making my own way in this crazy world, I may have given a few people some moments of recognition and truth and love through words.
Save that, Jean-Marie, in case someone's looking for some last minute material for my eulogy.
And by the way, I'm sorry for your troubles... It's always all about me, isn't it?! Holy crap.
When I first started this blog, I was nervous about letting people see into my soul too much. Now, it's oddly comforting to know people actually read my crap and find it even the tiniest bit meaningful. I am an enigma to myself...and yes, it's always all about me, to all of us.
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