In 2007, I was really excited that we were going to be changing the clocks forward about a month early. I remember March 11th 2007 very clearly. It was the perfect day for Spring Forward. It was nearly seventy degrees out. I was bored, but it wasn't really a bad kind of bored. I was feeling hopeful for the future, which was a big deal because the past few months had been shit-tastic and that is not an exaggeration.
I was trying to decide what to do regarding the fiance I was separated from due to lots shit-tastic fucking shit. I hadn't spoken to him since early December, before the bleeding shit hit the flaming fan and flung its shit-covered entrails all over my life. Despite those months of separation, I didn't consider us over. I didn't know what I considered us. I needed time to myself, time to focus on Becky because for so many years Becky hadn't existed. Josh existed. Josh and Becky existed. Every now and then Becky and Josh existed, but mostly it was Josh. So it was nice to focus on Becky. I thought he understood that. I thought he knew I loved him and just needed time. Now I know he didn't, because in his world, Becky still didn't exist. Josh and Becky existed. Becky existed as a prize for Josh, as something to covet and keep and hold onto and to worry would leave. Becky existed as someone who could make everything right, except that wasn't a fair thing to put on a person.
It was the morning of March 12th when Mom came home from work less than thirty minutes after having arrived and woke me up to tell me Josh had died of a heroin overdose. I remember those moments more clearly than anything. My Mom heard the news because her mother-in-law reads the newspaper regularly. Mom rushed around to find out it if was true before she told me. Josh's mom wanted to tell me herself, but my mom wouldn't let her. I appreciate that. Hearing the news from my mom, someone who wanted to comfort me instead of be comforted by me, helped.
March 11th was a Sunday, just like today. Because of that, the memories are more potent. It's been eleven years but it will never go away. To add to this pain, my mom, the person who's been there for me through everything, is in the final stages of COPD and not going to make it much longer. So now I just have to remember the strength she gave me and save it for the future. It's a gift. And I guess the sunshine is too, though it hurts, like antiseptic in a wound.
Sometimes I want to remind myself that pain is what makes me real, pain is what makes me feel love and appreciate beauty. Sometimes that's true, and other times it's a giant load of flaming horse shit.
-------------
The darker the night, the brighter the stars,
The deeper the grief, the closer is God!”
- Fyodor Dostoyevsky
---------------------
No comments:
Post a Comment