Memento mori

Blue's a good color for today. The color of the gorgeous fall sky here as well as the color of my mood. It's been a Week, do you know what I mean? It was the eighth month anniversary of my father's passing (still using euphemisms, so what does that say?), I was in a fender bender-- got only mildly injured, thank god, but ended up having to cancel two rehearsals. Two much needed rehearsals with gigs upcoming.  Some good news on the horizon, too, but it's too early to say.


I realized, on the road today, that even with the discomfort, I should not have taken the muscle relaxant the doctor gave me. I was driving unsafely, and pulled over. Called and cancelled the rehearsal (2 hours away),  and my network of friends helped get me back home safely. God, did I feel stupid. First, that I didn't realize that I'd be compromised taking something that would help me, and second, that I have been overlooking my own wellness for the past several weeks. 


Any time I get worn down, I go to my old companion, Grief. She is easily accessible, is always around. I feel no shame with her anymore--we are so intimately acquainted.  Inevitably, there's a pity party involved, too. 


After getting home, and falling into the arms of this companion, I started looking at my memento mori, and the day dimmed. I see the sun out there, the blue sky, the colors of leaves.  To say a pall is cast would be too dramatic, but it feels like the life's been sucked out of me.  I looked at the shells I collected on Sanibel Island, during the week I'd "planned to grieve;" I read through the book I crafted for my father to keep his spirits up; through the photobook I made of photos we displayed at the funeral; the book his colleagues made in his honor. That was far enough for today.  The big box is still sitting in my sunroom, the one with the dresses, the pictures, the love letters. I don't know when the right time will be, but I am glad I have it to open when I am ready.


I bought a new computer, and with it came a printer/scanner. I've been waiting to get a scanner; so many pictures to scan into the computer, The Motherload waits as well. I realized, through the message of a friend, that there are no pictures of my mother on my FB account. With the scanner, some will pop up; but only pictures that flatter her. The last years of her life took an incredible toll on her spirit as well as her physical appearance. So while I have pictures of her from the last few years before she died, I won't post any. My mother loved--no-- idolized Jackie O, as so many young women did at the time, and was always a fashion-conscious and well groomed lady. She loved the idea of High Tea, Ladies' Lunches, and she herself was a beautiful hostess, even when she felt insecure--which was most of the time.  


I find myself mentioning my father more in classes--my world music class hears stories of my father's travels to India, Sri Lanka--my vocal pedagogy class is learning about his take on body language, and the importance our physical impressions make on others.   It helps me to mention him, in the past tense, to remind me of the reality of his passing. But I must control the circumstances in which he is mentioned and will cut people off if they go too far--which is not far, at all, really. It is still so hard manage the weight of this knowledge. I am sure that's why I have taken on so much work. It does make me happy, though, so it feels a healthy thing to do. Purpose, productivity help with the harder, deeper work that needs time to simmer.  


While I understand that my father is gone, he has died, I am still in some form of denial: I can't wrap my head around it. I struggle with the flashes of memories that hit me at unexpected times. I have to stop myself from calling my father--whose phone number I'll never forget--with news, or to see how he's doing.  There are some things that only he would appreciate or understand. That unique relationship is over, out in the ether. Do I look for someone to replace that? Do I need that kind of relationship in my life now?   There are lots of things to figure out now.