There are many, many times I’d love to go back to being a kid.
I could eat crayons or glue for lunch, pass notes in class amid the thrill of getting caught and drink Kool-aid all damn day. Probably all while wearing footie pajamas with no idea what makeup is or that I even have hair on my head that I could do something with.
But I’m an adult now. And sometimes being an adult sucks donkey balls.
Big, giant, hairy donkey balls.
As a child, for me, I never thought about death or people dying.
If I ever attended a funeral or wake, I never truly grasped what it meant.
Now though? I get it.
And each year I get older it hurts my heart even more to realize just that – that I am getting older. Which means my parents are getting older. People in my life are going to pass away.
The reality of mortality scares me.
It’s hard not to wonder who or when someone I love will be lost.
No – I don’t think about this 24/7 but this week a friend of mine lost her father to cancer. He wasn’t even old by any means. I know her whole family and have lots of childhood and adult memories with her and her father. Rambo and I will be going to the services.
And no – this isn’t the first time I’ve lost someone as an adult but if I’m being brutally honest…I’ve always been able to “excuse” myself from most wakes and such. My anxiety goes through the roof at times like that.
The crying, the not knowing what to say, the sadness I can’t bear to see in someone’s eyes, the lingering effects that last for days. I stay home with the girls and many, many times Rambo has gone without me.
Not my finest moments – but the truth.
This time….I will go. As hard as it is to imagine going – it’s harder imagining not going.
I know without a doubt, if the tables were turned – she’d be there for me.
She is my age and the first of very few in my class to lose a parent.
Meaning that it’s going to start happening more and more…because we’re all getting older.
I was talking with another friend about it and she said,
“If my Dad were to pass away, it would shatter my world.”
That comment shattered mine.
And the truth behind why crushes me further.
I wanted to reply that I agreed. Or say, “Me too.”
But I simply cannot.
My own father’s father died a few years ago and my father cried that day but never again. He had no relationship with him and his life literally didn’t change without his father in it.
I can’t type the words but you have to know what I’m thinking. My world will not shatter because of what me and my own Dad actually had – but because of what we didn’t have.
What could have been.
What an awful realization. One I’ve had before…but for some reason admitting it out loud to that friend I was conversing with was like a fist punch to my heart.
It is what it is.
So it’s fairly true to say I’m emotional this week.
I also got a killer migraine last night which never helps my emotional state either.
I’m trying to focus on the positive and the here and now. I’m trying not to think about the emotional upheaval my body will go through attending that wake. I’m praying the crying won’t cause a migraine and that the hives won’t be noticeable.
Leave it to me to make someone else’s pain all about me, huh?
Selfless – I am not.
Selfish though? I have that down to a science.
Rambo isn’t helping. Last night he was in the office for quite a while. I had no idea why until he came out later telling me he had made me a CD and that he was going to put it in my car for the next morning. He was pretty proud of himself.
In my head all I could think was that I just had a conversation with this man about his prisoner escort and a lost bandit (sp?). He was going on about a bandit being lost and searching for it and finally I just asked, “What the hell is a bandit?” Up until the point the only bandit I had known was Smokey and The Bandit.
A bandit in prison terms is the thingy they put on the prisoner that puts thousands of electrical volts through the inmate’s body if Rambo pressed a certain button. Kind of like a taser – strapped to your body.
And he was talking about the drug dogs coming in because the prison was on lockdown and on and on.
Until he switched gears and put a homemade CD into my car for the morning.
I told you guys – he’s rough on the outside but squishy on the inside.
It’s the sweetest thing ever…unless you’re an emotional basketcase like me. With every new song that came on during my ride in this morning – I had to bite my lip harder not to cry.
When the old Dollly Parton version of “I will always love you” came on – I about lost it.
I mean Jesus balls….what the holy hell is he trying to do to me?
A week or so ago, I walked into the office and both girls were sitting on Rambo’s lap and they were just finding old songs and videos and watching and listening. I sat on the other side of them on my computer working and listening and when he’d find a good one I’d say “leave that one on – I love it”.
Naturally somehow he remembered which ones I liked and put them on the CD.
I ask you how the hell am I supposed to not do the ugly cry when I realize this? Each time one song ends I listen for the next chords of the next song. Some I recognize right away and others I don’t…until they start to sing and then the floodgates start to open.
I made it to song 9 before I got to work.
Because of the emotional-ness (yes, that’s totally a word) of this week – all I can think is, “My God, some day I’m going to lose Rambo and the only thing I’ll have left of him are CDs like this one.”
Enter waterworks again.
I don’t know why he decided to make a CD. The woman in me wants to analyze the meaning behind every song and ask questions.
The emotional wreck in me just wants to listen and cry…and be grateful.
If I get through today without eating my body weight in chocolate – it’ll be a damn miracle.
Do you know what song just came on in my office????
WE ARE THE WORLD.
Now all I can think about is starving kids in Africa. Or something like that.
Who the hell still plays that song on the radio for chickenshit's sake????
I should have stayed in bed.
Or taken a Skittle bath at the very least.