Sunday, July 31, 2011
More Than Words Can Wield
These moments grip me so hard I feel like crying and laughing at the same time and I don't even know why. I attribute it either to womanly foibles or my out-of-whack emotional makeup. I think I am more a ball of matter than a thinking being because I feel so much, so fast, so intensely, so rapidly. I imagine I'm a little ball of emotions, melting from from a stormy blue hue, to a warm and golden cadmium yellow, to a ebbing peaceful shamrock green, to a screaming scarlet. Changing, changing, and changing, like a chameleon high on aphrodisiac. I reckon it's why I have little sense of subtlety, because I'm feeling so much that everything strains at the seams, waiting to burst the dams of my facade.
This weekend was one I want to remember forever. I am wrapping it up in a nicely packaged box and placing it near my heart. Friday began with cross-country where I felt genuinely happy while running in a new place, hearing it all pound in my head, feeling my heart beat like a oversized african drum, feeling the wind in my face, feeling my own ragged breath, feeling the smiles of the wonderful teachers who were stationed at different stops. Feeling, feeling, feeling, straining at the limits of my physical capabilities, and then spending time with T, talking, jogging and learning. You've been a perfect present from God to me y'know Trish? It's been wonderful talking and raving and running with you- you're a feel-er too, and it's absolutely brilliant.
Then I spent the rest of morning gallivanting around West Coast, trying to get the the double Js to lighten up, acting like a 5 year old with Grace, throwing caution down the freeway. And I don't care if you tell me kid means baby goat; it sounds more happy than child to me, so deal with it, please. We found an obscure shop selling all types of tape, drank Koi and then in the evening I watched my friends do their stuff on stage. It was a stunning show of talent, molded around Natalie's script, so honest, so genuine. It took our deepest insecurities, things not nice to think about, unpleasant to face, uncomfortable and awkward, took them and turned them into a play of (at risk of sounding like a overused motivational speech) fighting for what you believe it. Yep, that was slightly cringeworthy- I'm sorry, but it was the best I could think of!
Saturday was languid and slow, of realizations and sleepy mornings, and of sadness and meeting strangers, and old friends, and midnight runs. I think I might be in love, in love with the night. Which is very dangerous, as being in love usually is, because school is in the morning, and I am a creature who is fueled by sleep.
And then there's death- which is so pervasive and unfathomable.
SY has just passed away and it's disconcerting. Uncomfortable, and I'm not sure what to feel. It's not even confusing, it's like I'm not feeling anything, and it feels awful because I cannot summon the sadness and it won't come. I feel heartless.
I don't think it's normal for it to be more difficult to decide what to feel then to deal with the natural influx of emotions. I don't feel sad, because he was suffering and I think he'll be much happier in heaven where he probably is right now. All I feel is traces of pity for his family, and I feel like sweeping them into my arms and giving them all the comfort I can extract from my being.
I know you will take SY into your loving arms. I offer up this prayer for him and his family, that you will cover them in your love, to take away the hollowness from their hearts.
I've said it before, but death painful if only for those it leaves behind.
When I die- I want there to be a celebration, with a live band and I want my ashes to be thrown into the wind. When I die, those I leave behind will remember me, but they will rejoice.