It’s funny how a simple, ordinary day can turn into something so sad you don’t know what to do, but completely shut down. It’s always the little things about the normalcy of the moments earlier in your day that you remember, that you wonder should you have done something different.
The other day I drove out to Burbank to have lunch with a longtime friend of mine. We met at a studio we had worked together at, years ago. We thought it might be fun to eat at one of the places we had, had so many catered lunched from. It was fun, a cruise through memory lane.
I had started my drive down memory lane before I met my friend for lunch. It brought back so many recollections. Mostly happy ones, but with a lot of sadness and loss mixed in. As I cruise by the beloved studio and look around seeing everything as it once stood, looking exactly the same. It sat unchanged except for the people inside. I had a rush of remembrances that invaded me. I miss that place and all the people I came to love from there. It was truly a great time of my life, a chapter closed but clearly not forgotten. I think back to all the tears both happy and sad that I have shed within those walls and I felt a profound loss of what was. I miss the people that were always there, especially the ones that are no longer with us in life. I think about how a simple street of the boulevard could erect such emotion and thought. My words would never be able to express the heartfelt feeling that I had in those moments driving through the streets.
I feel as though I grew up there. I was married, divorced, had both my girls while working there. I found lasting friendships and love there. I saw life blossom and also taken away, I saw struggles and triumphs there and I saw the world change from what I knew to what I now know. To go from where I once was to where I am now has been an amazing ride. I count it as one of my many, many blessing. I have truly missed it more than I ever realized.
I take pain in the loss of what was but feel the utter pleasure in the memory that still lives strong.
As I pull slowly away from the studio I realize that I have been listening to “It will rain” by Bruno Mars and I should have realized that it was a sign.
The next day my mom calls in the late afternoon, which is a normal and often occurrence but for some reason I don’t like the sound of the ring.
As soon as she hears my voice she asked “what’s wrong?” and I begin to assure her that I am fine, thinking just get to it! Yet, being my mother, she insists on knowing what’s wrong. I truly had nothing to say. I had spent the day having a casual lunch and trying on beautiful lingerie, thinking I was going to need it if my Raiders don’t step it up. So, again, I assure her that there is nothing wrong.
Then there she goes…
My mother begins to tell me that her and my dad will be flying out to see my uncle on Monday because on Wednesday they are going to “pull the plug” on my uncle. She explains that they have run all the tests they can and the blunt truth of the matter is that he is never going to wake up. The infection is in the deepest part of his bone marrow and the breathing tube will no longer hold.
As I feel myself slowly shrink with loss and guilt, I do not cry. I stay strong and repeat the right words… how this is what’s best for him and he will no longer suffer and be in pain anymore and blah, blah, blah! But, I don’t really hear a word of what I am saying because instead I hear my own voice repeating you should have been there, you should have been there!
I recently posted about my uncle and the guilt I felt for not going to see him and how I should have been there to see him this summer like I had planned. I was told by my closest family and friends that I couldn’t have known this was going to happen, but the truth of the matter is that I did know, I knew then as much as I cringe with guilt at that simple fact now. I had told them then that I felt like I should not miss this trip and here it is, missed and lost forever. How a single decision can affect you so much and something so simple can become so irreversible.
I take great pain in a loss that I cannot get back but feel pleasure in the fact that his pain will be gone, even though I may not ever shed mine.
I know myself and I know that I will truly hold onto this guilt as I have with the phone call I missed from a great friend right before he died. I will endlessly torture myself through all of my days. I feel the stress pile against my already weak body and I am frightened for myself and how my insides are going to react to such problems. I can’t afford to get sick and hide away from months, again. More so, I don’t want to!
That same night I leave for a meeting that I didn’t really think too much about until I was sitting in the middle of this room in tears. I sat crying at the statements that were made, the reality that was placed in my lap and cried while letting go of uncontrollable tears. I thought hearing of losing someone I love was enough for one day, hearing what came next was worse than I could have imagined.
I will not go into what it was, since it was hard enough to hear it much less repeat. Even as an anonymous blogger, there are some things I will not repeat, some things that are truly, truly private. With that, I feel even more alone, unable to talk but very aware of what has happened. I will not be able to shake the dread and fear for all of my life.
The inability to do anything or say anything and the inability to make things right or better was a harsh reality that slapped me hard across my face. I am at a lost, words have no meaning in my mind and I am gone.
There is no pleasure in this truth, only the simple fact that it has caused great pain.
This was the end of my blog post…
They say that God does not give you more than you can handle.
There are certain points of my life that I would have disagreed, but then there was the next time that had me believing that the other pains of life were nothing in comparison. So I tend to not disagree with God or his plans for my future whether or not I want to believe there is some higher power at work here.
As I had stated earlier in this post, “I cannot afford to get sick”. I do not want to nor do I have time in my crazy, busy schedule. I have things to do, people to meet with and priorities that take over. I can’t sit here and waste away while there is still so much to do. Yet, I think about my uncle and wonder if he felt that way before he started to feel nothing at all.
I lay here in my bed typing away instead of doing what I know is the inevitable, which is going to the hospital. I kick my feet at the thought of going to the hospital and sitting in a very cold, sterile room. It’s not scary, just not preferable. I want to get better here in my own bed, but as it rounds into day two, I know I will not be able to “stay strong” for much longer. I know this drill I’ve done it before and I always end up in the same place, the same cold, miserable place. The last time I did this I ended up next door to a women screaming in pain for over an hour, talk about making a miserable situation even worse.
Plus, I know a lot of the people at the hospital and I don’t prefer to go in and tell them all the things that are wrong with me so that everyone can know. Yes, I know there is that confidentiality thing, do you really believe that? I suppose it is to a certain extent but I have been on the receiving end of that private information before and I know how loose they can be with info.
Even though I have talked about my medical problems here, I have yet to talk about it with everyone in my life. I don’t need those puppy dog looks or that sympathetic smile or maybe I do, maybe I would like it.
Just like that, as I thought it would, the stress would literally eat me alive. As I sit around hoping against all hope that the pain will go away so that I can avoid more doctors, I know just like I knew everything else, life would not be so easy.