Saturday is the internment of The Amazing Tectonic Baby’s ashes.
It snuck up pretty quick, didn’t it?
I’ve booked Friday off from work because I was kinda weepy (and by kinda I mean drooling nose blowing head holding) every morning over the past few days and I can’t imagine it getting much better before Saturday. This week, those tears are of sadness and of joy as I hear from people, re-read supportive emails and notes, turn down yet another offer to be accompanied to the memorial. An amazing friend of mine who I’ll call Brigid has also contributed to the tears by being so loving. She offered first to come with us to the internment then, seeing the greater need, offered to host friends and family so that we would have a safe haven to come to after the service. I became frozen- I couldn’t make a decision on where, what, or who I wanted because my emotions really are pushing aside my logical brain, and all I could do was stare at her, wide eyed in panic. I wanted a safe place afterwards where I can be myself, have a beer, hug lots of people, hoping for laughter and warmth, but how does one do this and who do I invite and what about the “friend” jerks I don’t want to invite and what if I can’t handle seeing people afterwards and what if…? I was flailing so she, with complete permission, took control.
Brigid made up the wording of the email invitation, offered to phone those who don’t use email, suggested the local people to invite and validated me on my reasoning for those I didn’t want to invite, arranged the location and booked a private room, and arranged the timing to be sure that it was short enough to not drag on but long enough to comfort us. And she booked it at a licensed foodie paradise to boot with a plan for a quiet gathering at her house later that will have as many or few people as we can handle to ask along, and also she gave me a type of permission to just go home to bed if that’s what I’ve gotta do.
I daily re-read the invitation she put together to express what I poured out to her when I was flailing and it makes me thankful for the people I have in my life. It also makes me realize that I’d be even more of a nutcase without the love and support I’ve received so far. The road may be long but it’s easy when I’ve got great company to walk with me. Thanks in advance for thinking of us in the coming days. And I really think Brigid should be doing this professionally – she was the perfect balance of thoughtful, sentimental, fun-loving, and hopeful in organizing this occasion.
It also makes me see that the internment is not the end but a checkpoint. I have changed, The Husband has changed. We have different relationships with each other and with others now, and as much as I mourn those who I thought were friends and turned away from us, I celebrate the deeper friendships and family relationships I now have. I celebrate escaping yet another crazy body badness that tried to kill two but claimed just one. We see life in a new light and say “Why not” more often – which we thought we’d been doing regularly before but now we let even fewer restrictions guide us when I’m strong enough. Some days I’m not strong enough and sit alone in my pity party, and I know now that that’s an ok reaction too. Losing the Amazing Tectonic Baby also brought about the right time for us to open our hearts to Voodoo The WonderMutt, a dog we’ve talked about having for years but never acted on it. I think that we are kinder people, even more honest, and we definitely laugh more.
We laugh more. How’s that for a twist of irony?