Saying Goodbye.

This year has been lucrative for funeral homes. Between the celebrities and my own family members, I have to say that the morticians got dough for the holidays.

I realized the other day that I have lost two uncles, a cousin, and an aunt this year. My aunt Trish got in just under the gun by passing away on December 21st. It was highly unexpected. I fully believed that she would beat her cancer. It never even occurred to me that she wouldn't. So when we got the call last Monday morning, I was shocked. It had spread everywhere. But the real cause of her death was complications due to the chemo.

I have already decided that if I ever get cancer (which will not happen if I get my way) that I will forgo the chemo and find another route. I don't care what stage I'm at, how long the doctors give me, whatever. I can fight cancer another way. Chemo is not the only option, it's just usually the only option doctors will give (don't get me started on kick-backs - that's for another post).

Anyhow, I've been pretty down about Trish's passing. She's leaving a twelve-year-old behind. All I want to do is put my arms around Caity and tell her it will be okay, but I can't make the trip to NY now (it seems no one can). She seems to be doing alright. Trish had probably prepared her ahead of time. Very sad situation. But there it is. My dad's only sibling is gone now too. Now it's just us: me, Shannon, and Caitlyn. Oh, and now Lily.

It's these deaths that seem to just keep coming that remind me of the life I really want to lead, and so far, haven't. It also makes me curious of what lies on the other side of that line, the one that separates us. I've commented before to people that it's almost cruel that human existence is split into two parts and that those parts have a very fixed wall between them. We can't know those things that lie beyond yet. And we cannot be with those who've already journeyed there. I know my time is coming, and I'm reminded that there will be others that I will lose before then, when those eternal truths are finally revealed to me.

Until then, farewell Uncle Curt, Uncle Dick, Russell, and Aunt Trish.

In memory of Julia...

It was four years ago this week.

So strange that time moves on after someone has moved beyond the restrictions of the clock, into the ether, or whatever lies beyond, and leaves the rest of us behind to continue to seek answers that they have already acquired.

My friend Julia died four years ago. It was in the height of a two year period that I went to eight funerals. Two were highly significant to me. The first was my grandfather's in November of 2004. The other was Julia's.

She was only twenty years old. In that time, she'd experienced both wonderful and horrific things that shaped the person that she was. She was sweet, and kind, and generous. She loved her nephew and was on her way to finding a peace after a bout of contentiousness between herself and her parents. But a series of events pushed her over the edge, and a depression that few knew the depths of ate at her until she finally decided to take her life.

And the ones who loved her that she left behind wondered in astonishment what each could have done to change what she did, to stop her, change her mind, or take away her inner pain.

I think anyone who has experienced the loss of a loved one probably gains some measure of morbidity. After the loss of both my father and grandfather, Lord knows I certainly did. But when Julia died, it took the wind right out of me. There were no morbid thoughts. Merely regrets. What didn't I see? How could I not realize?

With most funerals you fill your mind with thoughts of how sad you are, but that that person is in a better place. With the funeral of someone who has committed suicide, your mind is shocked and absorbed with the impossible to answer to the question, "Why?"

I really miss her. I'd known her from a distance her whole life. But in the last couple years, we'd gotten to know each other. She was one of those people you could have a conversation about almost anything with. She had a depth to her that few people at her age have without the accompanying condescension and pretension. Julia was real. It was evident that she wanted to make the world a better place. If only she'd given herself a chance to really do that. She was so thoughtful and everyone that knew her was profoundly touched by her. So, maybe she did.

Julia, wherever you are, you are truly missed.

Ho Hum

Not a whole lot went on today. For the most part, just moped, as I do every year on this day. I shouldn't say I moped; it was more of a somber reflection. Thirteen years since Dad died. Thirteen years. It might as well have been last week, with the wound still bitingly fresh. But only in moments like this. (Read my post on A Really Good Day about this.)

And now, I'm thinking about what I need to do tomorrow. Can we say "major cleaning"? There's a crap-load of clothes I need to go through. (I see a rummage sale in my future. And a trip to Goodwill.) And paper hell to sort.

I lost the phone number of a good friend of mine. That's what I get for being a dumbass from time to time. Michael, are you out there?

He was supposed to get back to me about getting together via email. I haven't seen him in over a year. He moved down to the Chicago area a couple years ago and just moved back. I should find my old cell phone and see if I was smart enough to put it in my contacts at the time.

Have you ever been tempted to spend an afternoon at Borders or Barnes & Noble, just to flip through magazines? If I get far enough tomorrow with the clean-up attempt, Sam might be taking a wee trip over to Greenfield.

Sorry, I felt the need to document a boring day.

Dead Tomatoes

I'm hoping that the tomato plant survives until it can be planted. A large amount of dead leaves have shown up and it's a little disconcerting. At least the pepper plants are thriving so far.

The farmer's market is open today. Considering heading out for some fresh stuff. Hoping they have melons. I'm really in the mood for a good fruit salad.

I cannot believe the amount of people dropping dead lately. Not just the famous ones, although that can't help.

My uncle Dick passed away on Friday. We attended his funeral in MN yesterday. Shannon and I hung out outside for a while with Lily. (She's not quite old enough to understand the gravity of a funeral. Shannon says she's unpredictable. She'll be shy one minute, then singing at the top of her lungs in front of dozens of strangers the next. Best keep her out of the way.)

Mom knows of two or three people from work who just died this last week. And then you factor in the celebrities. Unreal!

Michael Jackson (whose death seemed to consume the media - what about Farrah?)
Farrah Fawcett
Ed McMahon
Karl Malden
Billy Mays

The anniversary of Dad's death is upcoming - July 10. I can't believe it's been 13 years! Still miss him.

Could the last couple weeks be more depressing? People dying, death anniversaries, and I turned 30. Go figure!