Tag: #Mourning

  • Nothing Particular

    The domesticity of my life has taken precedence today. Meaning that I had to make a meal plan for the family, and then go grocery shopping. The chores that need to be accomplished for the stay at home parent. I’m not complaining about these tasks, but I was bad at planning them this week. Normally I make the plan and shopping list the night before, so that I can go take care of it as soon as I get done dropping the kid off at school. Thus, freeing up the rest of the day for things I want to do.

    So, I got a late start today, and as such, I am writing later than I was planning. Some days are like that. Some days are just go go go, and I don’t get what I want. It has to be delayed, because I’m a grown up, and that’s what life is sometimes like for a grown up.

    And as I ran my errands, walking through the Upper West Side to get to the Trader Joe’s, the pang of missing my mother hit me. Not crushing, but just that a pang because out of nowhere, I thought about her stuffed peppers that she used to make, and home the smell of those peppers cooking would permeate the entire house, and how I hated that smell as it informed me of a meal that I wouldn’t enjoy, but there was no sense in complaining. The rest of the family loved it, and I was the odd man out that would have to put up with it. And even if my mother magically came back and made stuffed peppers for me, I still would not eat it. That meal sucked.  

  • Losing a Best Friend

    Yesterday, my Uncle Arnie passed away. He was my godfather, and he was goofy, silly, and had a very original midwestern accent that I have never been able to replicate. He was a good uncle, a great father, a dedicated husband, and he was my dad’s best friend. They grew up together, and in a funny twist of fate, they ended up marrying sisters, which meant they legally became family to each other. They liked martinis, and in family gatherings, sometimes they had to be separated at the table, because they could be a little rowdy and obnoxious. You know, just like best friends do. My heart just breaks for my Aunt Margaret, who lost her best friend, too. He was a good man, and he will be missed greatly.

    Then the other day, a friend from high school posted that another classmate of ours had died. My friend wrote a very moving post in Facebook, talking about how close they were in school, and even when they followed different paths and lived in different places, they stayed in contact, and stayed close. You could feel through her words how devastated she was in his passing, that there was a hole in her heart now.

    So, best friends, old friends, have been on my mind this weekend. We all make friends, and then those friends end up becoming family. And I miss my friends. I think what I miss most is just listening to them tell me about their lives. Their loves and adventures and experiences. To make them laugh, and vice versa. It is a motley crew of people we choose to share our lives with. Some for a short while, some forever. A friendship really is one of the greatest gifts you can give to someone.

  • Thanks, Uncle Rene

    My uncle died this morning. It was my mom’s brother.

    He was the uncle who encouraged me to read books, write, go into theatre, and move to New York. When I graduated high school, he took me to a book store and told me to pick out whatever I wanted. And then he added other books he felt I should read. He was also the person who suggested that I get a subscription to The New Yorker. You could talk to him about anything because he seemed to know a little about everything.

    I have reached the age when I can now full appreciate the gifts God has given me, and for some reason, God feels compelled to take them all back.

    But my uncle was a priest, so I bet he’d tell me to go easy on God.

    Because no one really leaves you if you love them.

    And I know he loved me.

  • Nighttime, My Brain Won’t Shut Off

    I went through a brief period where I was sleeping okay, but now I have returned to not sleeping. I get about five hours of sleep a night. I have cut out snacking, screen time, and nightcaps, but it really doesn’t help. What also doesn’t help is that PLUTO TV has an MST3k channel, but late at night they do show “Manhunt in Space” and “The Wild Wild World of Batgirl,” way too often, which, even for MST3k, are pretty unwatchable episodes. Anyway, I have tried melatonin, and that can help me get to sleep for a couple of hours, but then I will make up again.

    I’m having trouble shutting off my mind. I have tried several different tricks, but nothing is really working. I’m good in the day time; I can stay upbeat and focused, get my work done and support the family. But once I start getting ready for bed, all the doubts and regrets, and fears come alive. To be honest, I cannot remember the last time I had a solid good night’s sleep, but I know at one point I did. All of this leads to the feeling of malaise, and the phrase that I keep saying to myself that, “I haven’t been myself in a long time.”

    In my mind, I feel like I have been this way for three years, but just know when I looked at a calendar, I realize that I have been saying this for three year, so in actuality, it’s been six years. Maybe five. I didn’t start not feeling myself over night, but I did feel myself being pulled away from who I am back then.

    I took a job that I was qualified for, but didn’t want to do, and they paid me too much money to do it. I take responsibility for my actions, and in the short run it helped out my family get out of a financial hole, but in the end, I got good at something that I didn’t like doing. (I was warned not to do that in college.) And I haven’t forgiven myself for that. I feel it was that decision that has led me to where I am sitting right now.

    I wish I was one of those people who could let things go, be a goldfish, but I’m not.

    Well… I’m not right now.

    Even as I write this, I feel very edgy, that even tapping a finger on the memories of the past six years will send me down a spiral of negative thoughts, that I won’t be able to pull myself out of.

    Because all of my emotional roads lead back, not to that job, but losing my mother. That happened in the middle of everything, and it’s, just, derailed me.

    Now, I’m not sure what I need do to deal with all of this, but what I think I should do is just keep trying to find a creative way to channel these emotions. And I do, with this, and all the other things I try.

    But, I would really like to sleep at night.

  • Dredging

    So, I have been avoiding talking about a situation, and it has to do with my daughter. She is having an eye surgery today. Very minor, adjusting the muscles in her right eye to help alignment, and to improve vision. This is, in fact, the second time she has had an operation on her eyes. Back in September 2020, both eyes were adjusted, and we thought that would be the end of it. But there was a 5% chance that we’d be back.

    I didn’t write about this before because I didn’t want to over share about my daughter’s life. But, I share so many other things about her, and not that it gives me license to share everything that happens to her… I’m proud of my kid, and this is an operation that is common and nothing to be ashamed of. She was afraid when the first surgery came around, and she sure as hell wasn’t happy about having to have a second operation, but she faced her fears, and moved forward.

    I, on the other hand, have been not at my best. I haven’t been sleeping, or eating right, and I also have been a little short tempered as well. This second surgery has been our radar since September, and I admit that I have been avoiding thinking about it. I’m not a piece of shit dad, as I read all the pre-surgery information, schedule all the appointments, and checkups, and got the kid her Covid test, and all of that stuff. I was there for the kid whenever she wanted to talk about it, and I tried my best to listen to what she was saying and not just dismiss her concerns.

    I was trying to be brave for everybody, and not think or dwell on what I was feeling. I understand that there are moments when being a parent you have to put the kid’s wellbeing before your own. And now that we are on the other side of her surgery (She just got out of the OR and is in recovery with her mother,) all of my emotions are coming up.

    The first is that I couldn’t be there. Thanks to Covid, only one parent is allowed in the hospital, so, again, I had to sit out. This left me at home, with my computer, thinking about all of this. Too much time to sit around and think, and though I know the chance of complications from the operation are minimal, not being there still makes me feel helpless, and useless.

    And hospitals, and feeling helpless and useless just dregs up the old feeling of my mother slowly dying in a hospital. These two situations have nothing in common other than a hospital, but it’s there. When hospitals are mentioned, it pops right up. And it’s not the memories of my mother dying that show up, it’s the emotions which feel draped over me like an ugly sweater.

    With that feeling of helplessness all around me, I started reliving all the mistakes that I have made over the past five years. Like, really litigating and flagellating myself. Really punishing myself for not living up who I should be for my wife and kid. Reliving mistakes I made in my career, and moments when I should have stood up for myself, or told that guy off, or just walked away. Then I really started punishing myself for not being smart enough, or talented enough, or wasting all the opportunities that I have had in this life.

    And all of this is because my kid is having a minor eye surgery?

    I might be a little depressed.

    Being upset that your child has to have an operation; that’s understandable.

    Thinking that I am the worst human on the planet because my kid is having an operation? Something seems out of whack.

    And I have been avoiding talking about this. I was trying to be brave for the wife and kid, but if any stress comes my way, and my reaction is to do the minimum and hate myself, then I am not handling it in a healthy way. And in the end, I’m not being a good father or husband.

    The good news is that the wife texted me and the kid is awake and eating ice cream. They should be home in a bit, and I promised to make chicken noodle soup.

    I got a lot of work to do.