It was a cool April night. It wasn't a traditionally ass-biting cold night, but one of those nights where you definitely needed a jacket or sweatshirt. The air was moist, in the sense that when you took a breath you could feel the mist crawling into your lungs. It was a cool April night, and that's all that sticks out to me.
It's 8:30. The phone rings, and I figure it's my dad. He's out of town, per the usual so the phone ringing at this time of night is nothing out of the ordinary. I answer. It's Uncle Dave.
"Oh, Boo...you're home."
"Yes, why wouldn't I be? It's a school night."
"Can I talk to your mom?"
Like I said. Nothing out of the ordinary. I bring the phone to my mother and go about my business..which means I go about watching Fight Club on the new television in my room. I get bored of the movie, so I switch it off and go to bed. It's now 8:45.
10 minutes later.
Mom comes in and flips on the light. She says that she needs to speak with me.
"Alexandria,something happened to Frenchy. She had an accident---"
I ponder this for a moment, and think of a response:
"I told her to be careful. Is she okay?"
My mom gave me a look that I will never forget. It was one of sheer empathy....a look that you get when you know you're about to give someone really bad news. I know this look, because I've seen it at work (being in HR these days).
"No, she didn't make it."
I don't know what happened next, and really I remember flashbacks. If I were to tell you the emotions that I experienced at the time, none of it would make sense. Just envision me running out of my room and down the stairs. Hyperventilating because I don't know what else to do. Screaming. Screaming so loud I wake my 14 year old sister up. Everything seemed so irrational. I threw my shoes on and ran down the street. I could hear cries of desperation from outside her house. These are cries that I cannot explain, and when I think of them, it sends shivers down my spine. I didn't go inside. I couldn't.
I get back to my house, and check my phone. 3 missed calls, two texts. Maria. She is on her way over. We don't know what we're going to do when she gets to the house. It all just seemed like a good idea. She gets here and we go to her boyfriend's house. His dad is a Lake County Sheriff, and we're thinking that he might have more information. Although nothing is certain now. All we know is that she's gone.
No news. Nothing new to learn....and we know now for sure that she is gone.
It's April 20, 2005--and I have just experienced my first, real, loss.
When I get home I fall asleep quickly. I blame the exhaustion---most likely stemming from crying. As I sleep I have a very strange dream, and it goes a little something like this:
Frenchy, Maria and I are getting ready for prom. Frenchy is running late per the usual, and really she is nowhere to be found. In my dream I attribute it to her getting ready for prom in the bathroom or something. As we're all ready to go, I see Frenchy standing in the corner of her baby blue room. Dressed to the nine's....looking as radiant as an angel. She stands there quietly, looking at me as if she has something to say.
"Frenchy, let's go, we're going to be late.."
"Alex, you go and have fun. I can't stay here...."
"What are you talking about. Stop being weird, we have to go."
"You don't understand, I can't stay here, but I'll be with you always in your dreams"
With that, she disappeared.
In the months following the funeral, the accident itself--I would have dreams of her and she would always say the same thing:
"You don't understand, I cannot stay here...but I will always be with you in your dreams."
As time passed, I put energy into fixing those who were grieving for her. If that meant doing hours of homework with her little brother or going for long car rides with her boyfriend---then that is what I was going to do in order to help those individuals cope. I am not sure that I ever coped. I am not even sure I would know how to begin coping now. It's funny how the pain sort of dulls after awhile. It dulls, but it's never fully gone. Much like what I am feeling in regards to He Who Must Not Be Named.
Sometimes on my way to work, I think about how things would have been if she were still here. We would have gone to prom, which was three days after the accident. We would have gone to ISU, and roomed together. She would have become a teacher, like I did. Or would she? I don't know what would have happened, but I'd like to think that she would have made the most of her talents, because she was probably one of the most beautiful people I know.
I suppose I write about this now, because through this hard time, I have been asking her to be with me--because feeling like she is at my back makes coping a bit easier. As I drove home from a personal training session today (which I felt worse after going than I did before I went--but that is a story for another day) I thought about what she would think of me now. Would she be upset with me, because I put so much time and investment into something that really wasn't working when it ended? Would she try and encourage me---and support this endeavor that I am currently undertaking? Would she hug me when I cry? Mostly....
Would she be proud of me?
Would she? I cannot say. I know she would be proud that I am trying to make something of myself. I sometimes feel so alone without her physically here. Then I snap out of it, and know that more than anything in this life I am not alone. Ever. There are so many good people around me....more than I ever really knew I had. I guess I just miss her.....
So here is how I can end this, and I know that it's a short one, and it's going to be a bit cliche. When you lose someone like this---embrace who they were. It might feel sad, it might even feel a bit sick in the head....but the truth of the matter is their time on this Earth, had a very specific purpose. They were meant to be here for a short time, because they made such an impact on the lives of those around them. They say only the good die young, and maybe that's true. Maybe it's bullshit. Maybe it's something we tell ourselves in order to cope with the pain of losing them so unjustly. What I do know, is that I had to grow up very fast....when this happened. I had to go on living. I had to go school (the very day after the accident), I had to graduate, I had to go on living a life that she would approve of. In this life, people come and go. Some by choice, and some--well--some have go because they don't have a choice. In the past 7 years, I've experienced so much. I found a love that I thought would last forever....but I have found that nothing lasts forever.
At the end the day, all we can hope, is that the person we loved and still love so much is watching over us. Laughing at us when we trip on the way to the gym, alerting us when we almost rear end that person because we were texting and driving like we're never supposed to do....and placing their hand on our shoulders when we cry after leaving the gym--because we have become such a disappointment to ourselves. I know and am confident that she is watching over me. There have been too many signs to not believe that she is with me. I just hope she can give me some light in the darkness that I feel at times. She's never failed at letting me know she is with me when I need her most. An angel always at my back....and always with me in my dreams....
A.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Saturday, February 16, 2013
St. Valentine's Day Massacre
Disclaimer--I started writing this on VD and finished it today.
Al Capone. An interesting character of sorts. A man who gave true meaning to the term "Gangster". Which, is hilarious if you think about today's standards and the 'gangsters' that we deal with. Completely different culture. Completely different appearance, meaning and agenda. Either way, back in the days where moonshiners ran rampant in the underground speakeasy taverns of Chicago, Al Capone was king. He had whatever he wanted. Money, women, sex, alcohol, perhaps drugs. He had power. He was even considered somewhat of a 'Modern Day Robin Hood', as he used the money from his indiscretions to make charitable donations on his behalf. Now, I am not sure why I just went on a random tangent about Al Capone, nor do I know how it's going to completely tie into this blog....
Oh, that's right....the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, Chicago, 1929. So, Valentine's Day, also known as 'St. Valentine's Day'--is supposedly a religious holiday of sorts. If I had the energy to do my research, I would tell you about the origins of such a holiday---but I am not feeling it today. Long story short, 5 members of a gang (rivaling Capone) were lined up by Capone's cronies dressed as coppers. They were then shot to death with tommy guns. Pretty brutal. Also pretty loud if you think about a tommy gun. Also pretty messy. Either way, it would be hinted that Capone was involved in the murders, but I don't believe he was ever brought up on charges. For the rest of his life, especially towards the end (when he was going crazy as a result of Syphilis) he claimed that the ghost of one of those shot during the massacre. Regardless of that, I do think that I find some humor in the celebration of today--because of the massacre in 1929. Why this day? Why do we celebrate such a holiday? Why do we put so much investment into telling someone we love them on one day? Shouldn't we love someone every single day with everything that we are? I once had a joke with my roommate in college about Al Capone and the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. Again, I don't know where I am going with this, and I don't know why I am going on a tangent about V-Day and this massacre. Either way, I got you interested, didn't I?
4 months. 4 months later and here I am. I supposed that a lot has happened, and really when I think about it not much of anything has happened at all. I also suppose that I have taken some kind of steps to make myself feel better, mostly because the truth of it is I am the only one who can make myself happy. I used to think that my happiness rested on the shoulders of the one who supposedly loved me. For a very long time, my happiness did rest on his shoulders. I wish that I could say that the realization that I am the only one who can make myself happy---has changed my outlook on things. It has and it hasn't. While I realize that he cannot affect my life, he still does in numerous ways. Thus, 4 months have come and gone---and I am the same and I am different; I am happy and I am sad. As of this past week, lent has begun. Traditionally, Lent is the time where we give up something we delight in: chocolate, fast food, soda, smoking. This year, I am following in the footsteps of someone very dear to my heart. I'm giving up being sad. You see, I could easily give up any of the above mentioned things. However, it's sadness that has taken over my life. The question that has been posed to me over and over again, is "Why do you care?" Why do I care? I feel like I should have let go by now. Why can't I let go? There is this sense of loneliness that has been creeping into my heart, like the fog from the movie The Mist (yes, I just made that reference). So now I have to channel my efforts and energy into being happy, and not sad. Which should be simple----yet I think the lack of closure that I've been experiencing for the past 4 months has really been pulling at my heart. You see my heart wants closure, but my brain knows that contact with him isn't going to do me any more good than my heart feels it will. So, I have my own little Civil War occurring within my body. I'm not sure which side is going to win.
This week I signed up for a gym--and while I am happy and excited about it, I wish that it could become an addiction that I can't shake. I sometimes feel like the more time I spend alone, the more I would be inspired to go to the gym. Deep down inside I want it to become an obsession. Something I need to do in order to survive. It sounds sick, but I cannot explain or describe the rush I experience from the endorphin(s) released as a result of working out. Right now it's legitimately the only thing that gives me this pure sense of optimism. It's after working out, that I am able to think to myself 'every little thing is gonna be alright.'
So on Valentine's Day, I went to dinner with my dear friend. Honestly, I didn't think of He Who Must Not Be Named one time. There were couples staring hopelessly into each other's eyes, holding hands and eating their meals while sharing a glass of wine. I enjoyed the company of my bestie--and didn't think of him. That is a step in the right direction.
Sidebar---
As I am sitting here, writing, the show Catfish is on. I find it odd that people can put so much investment into online relationships. Why is it so easy to hide behind a computer screen? This is what brings me to the inner workings of online dating. Which, is full of rejection, and judgement in addition to awkward and ballsy communication. Men will contact you with the sickest comments and most ballsy attempts at connecting with you. I think to myself, 'How do you think that you are going to receive a response from what you just said to me?' That, is a topic for another blog....
Well, this one was all over the place....and I hope you were able to follow my thought process. I hope you all had a great Valentine's Day---even though I feel that so much investment should not be placed on one day of love......
A.
Al Capone. An interesting character of sorts. A man who gave true meaning to the term "Gangster". Which, is hilarious if you think about today's standards and the 'gangsters' that we deal with. Completely different culture. Completely different appearance, meaning and agenda. Either way, back in the days where moonshiners ran rampant in the underground speakeasy taverns of Chicago, Al Capone was king. He had whatever he wanted. Money, women, sex, alcohol, perhaps drugs. He had power. He was even considered somewhat of a 'Modern Day Robin Hood', as he used the money from his indiscretions to make charitable donations on his behalf. Now, I am not sure why I just went on a random tangent about Al Capone, nor do I know how it's going to completely tie into this blog....
Oh, that's right....the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, Chicago, 1929. So, Valentine's Day, also known as 'St. Valentine's Day'--is supposedly a religious holiday of sorts. If I had the energy to do my research, I would tell you about the origins of such a holiday---but I am not feeling it today. Long story short, 5 members of a gang (rivaling Capone) were lined up by Capone's cronies dressed as coppers. They were then shot to death with tommy guns. Pretty brutal. Also pretty loud if you think about a tommy gun. Also pretty messy. Either way, it would be hinted that Capone was involved in the murders, but I don't believe he was ever brought up on charges. For the rest of his life, especially towards the end (when he was going crazy as a result of Syphilis) he claimed that the ghost of one of those shot during the massacre. Regardless of that, I do think that I find some humor in the celebration of today--because of the massacre in 1929. Why this day? Why do we celebrate such a holiday? Why do we put so much investment into telling someone we love them on one day? Shouldn't we love someone every single day with everything that we are? I once had a joke with my roommate in college about Al Capone and the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. Again, I don't know where I am going with this, and I don't know why I am going on a tangent about V-Day and this massacre. Either way, I got you interested, didn't I?
4 months. 4 months later and here I am. I supposed that a lot has happened, and really when I think about it not much of anything has happened at all. I also suppose that I have taken some kind of steps to make myself feel better, mostly because the truth of it is I am the only one who can make myself happy. I used to think that my happiness rested on the shoulders of the one who supposedly loved me. For a very long time, my happiness did rest on his shoulders. I wish that I could say that the realization that I am the only one who can make myself happy---has changed my outlook on things. It has and it hasn't. While I realize that he cannot affect my life, he still does in numerous ways. Thus, 4 months have come and gone---and I am the same and I am different; I am happy and I am sad. As of this past week, lent has begun. Traditionally, Lent is the time where we give up something we delight in: chocolate, fast food, soda, smoking. This year, I am following in the footsteps of someone very dear to my heart. I'm giving up being sad. You see, I could easily give up any of the above mentioned things. However, it's sadness that has taken over my life. The question that has been posed to me over and over again, is "Why do you care?" Why do I care? I feel like I should have let go by now. Why can't I let go? There is this sense of loneliness that has been creeping into my heart, like the fog from the movie The Mist (yes, I just made that reference). So now I have to channel my efforts and energy into being happy, and not sad. Which should be simple----yet I think the lack of closure that I've been experiencing for the past 4 months has really been pulling at my heart. You see my heart wants closure, but my brain knows that contact with him isn't going to do me any more good than my heart feels it will. So, I have my own little Civil War occurring within my body. I'm not sure which side is going to win.
This week I signed up for a gym--and while I am happy and excited about it, I wish that it could become an addiction that I can't shake. I sometimes feel like the more time I spend alone, the more I would be inspired to go to the gym. Deep down inside I want it to become an obsession. Something I need to do in order to survive. It sounds sick, but I cannot explain or describe the rush I experience from the endorphin(s) released as a result of working out. Right now it's legitimately the only thing that gives me this pure sense of optimism. It's after working out, that I am able to think to myself 'every little thing is gonna be alright.'
So on Valentine's Day, I went to dinner with my dear friend. Honestly, I didn't think of He Who Must Not Be Named one time. There were couples staring hopelessly into each other's eyes, holding hands and eating their meals while sharing a glass of wine. I enjoyed the company of my bestie--and didn't think of him. That is a step in the right direction.
Sidebar---
As I am sitting here, writing, the show Catfish is on. I find it odd that people can put so much investment into online relationships. Why is it so easy to hide behind a computer screen? This is what brings me to the inner workings of online dating. Which, is full of rejection, and judgement in addition to awkward and ballsy communication. Men will contact you with the sickest comments and most ballsy attempts at connecting with you. I think to myself, 'How do you think that you are going to receive a response from what you just said to me?' That, is a topic for another blog....
Well, this one was all over the place....and I hope you were able to follow my thought process. I hope you all had a great Valentine's Day---even though I feel that so much investment should not be placed on one day of love......
A.
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