Possibly sidelined to the DL

Over the past week i've developed a terribly painful and constantly worsening pain in my right hand/wrist/forearm. It was like a 9 on Friday, an 8 on Thursday. Me and my stupid bad posture when i'm typing. So i need to get a brace of some kind or one of those wrist supports. Barb from work even gave me the names of 2 doctors she saw for her hand problems. Ugh, i do not want it to go there. Maybe there are some exercises that can help me.

I think i had the best weekend i've had in maybe 11 months. It was Diana's birthday on Friday and we had a small family dinner, then yesterday i hung out with Carol and tia Emilia birthday gift shopping in L.I. and in the evening we went to a Korean karaoke club near Penn Station and that was SO. MUCH. FUN! My cousins make me feel so good about myself and i'm constantly surprised that, 1) they like me, and 2) they hang out with me or let me hang out with them. I feel this weird trapped-in-my-childhood feeling that they're the cool older cousins and i'm the lame-o kid that's terrified of going near the edge of the water at the beach. But despite feeling like i'm not cool enough for them, that feeling disappears when they make me feel like i belong. It's pretty fantastic and i love them very much for it. I also am astounded and profoundly inspired by the strength that both Carol and Diana have had during their crazy, young lives. These are women to go down in the history books. They're like the bridge between our family's old-fashioned ways and culture and a modern sense of a woman as a complete human being, with the same values and failings as a man, and not meant to be the servant of a man. I think i grew up too much seeing women at the feet of their men, ready to answer to their call. And yet again more reasons why i 1) harbor resentment, and 2) detest Latin men.

So Friday was relaxed and nice. After dinner we went back to Diana's and drank sangria and sang karaoke on Diana's Playstation or Xbox, one of those. It was great. I drank so much i lost track and even did a shot of aguardiente which i haven't touched ever since someone gave it to me at my 15th birthday party in Bogota. Then Javier came at the end of the night to pick up Sebastian and we started talking about life and death and shit like that. And OH MAN am i talkative when i'm drunk. I would not shut up. Finally we all had to leave and it was 3am and poor Diana was passed out asleep on her own couch.
I woke up with one of the worst hangovers in my life. I thought i wouldn't make it to the real karaoke on Saturday night. But tia Emilia took care of me and fortunately i was good as new by 8pm.

It was really nice to spend time with tia. I talked to her so much about how much i miss my mom and how i see her every time i'm in the bathroom at either tia's apartment. I told her how much i miss her on the subway, how being in my apartment doesn't make me sad, but it's the outside world that triggers painful memories. I was so happy that tia talked so openly with me. I think i was afraid she would be uncomfortable or something but it was the total opposite. She even talked to me about her grief after her husband was killed 20 years ago (in a few weeks it'll be the 20th anniversary). Tia told me that for a year she would cry all the time and that many times she would get lost driving and just pull over somewhere and cry and cry, missing tio Arturo. She also told me how much she cried over the malicious things her inlaws said to her and how badly they treated her, basically accusing her of being happy that her husband died. Sounds kind of soap-opera-y but much sadder. Poor tia.
We talked a lot about how my mom died in peace, too. For the umpteenth time i described my mom's moment of death and i was glad that tia actually wanted me to tell her. Tia Beatriz is just as open with me. Tia Emilia said one thing when we were at the restaurant on Friday that i won't forget. I told her that i miss my mom always. I said, "mi mama me hace falta en cada momento." It really means, my mother is missing to me, is necessary to me, i.e. i need my mom. And tia responded, "Toda la vida. Uno extrana a la madre toda la vida." And she said it so vehemently. Your whole life, you miss your mother during your whole life. And that was comforting to me.

Oh, how painful. I just accidentally erased a whole lot more that i had written. Oh well, it got written down, at least it's outside of me now. I guess that's the advantage of writing on paper, you don't hit the wrong key and lose your most intimate thoughts.

I developed some old disposable cameras on Friday and one of them had pics from about 5 years ago when my tia Emilia and i treated my mom to lunch for her birthday at a Japanese buffet restaurant. Very cute pics. And then on Friday evening i was at a Japanese restaurant with tia Emilia and Diana, celebrating her birthday. I thought that was very cool.

My last song at karaoke that Diana and Carol said was the song of the night, and MY song of the night (we left at 3:30 am). I think that in my drunken stupor i actually felt and believed this song, from MY American Idol, Fantasia:


I believe in the impossible
If I reach deep within my heart
Overcome any obstacle
Won't let this dream just fall apart
you see i strive to be the very best
Shine my light for all to see
Cause anything is possible
When you believe yeah yeah yeah yeah

I can see it in the stars up in the sky
Dreamt a hundred thousand dreams before
Now I finally realize
You see I've waited all my life for this moment to arrive
And finally I believe
oh yeah i believe

(wrist is hurting...)

All the days of my life

I had a really good day again, just like yesterday. Last night our group met at a pier on west 26th st (i think) and it was so, so beautiful there. We plan on going there all the time, weather permitting. Group was so wonderfully intense that i came home and wrote down lots of points and ideas that i haven't yet formatted into paragraphs. I need a lot more time to get it all in.

Mike came back to work today after being out for 4 work days, after his eye surgery. It was good to have him back and to try to be as supportive as i can for him. I really care about him a lot and it feels so good to have that at my boring job. I've told him he's my work spouse.

There's a kid named Erik, i think he's 21, who interned early in the summer and was back this week for just a few days, who i'm totally in love with. But in the same manner in which i've fallen in love with young coworkers before. It's so weird. I get this intense maternal or sisterly feeling and i just feel so much admiration and pride for these adults who are usually at least 10 years younger than me and inspire me with their goodness, idealism and insight. Those are the moments when i feel the world can be okay because there are some young ones coming up who can make a positive impact. This is known as one of my "i'm a 95 year old lady" moments. Erik is the most adorable thing and yesterday i told him he's like a unicorn from the Forbidden Forest in Harry Potter books. When he walks into the room everything sparkles and he's just so full of life that he radiates rainbows and little cartoon bluebirds fly above his head. He has never ending enthusiasm, is perpetually curious, and wants to be fully engaged with every human being he meets. And he's not annoying. He's concerned about being environmentally conscious like i am so we've talked about that and he's so attuned to everything around him all the time. He's super affectionate and friendly. I told Erika today that i feel like Erik is being born every minute. He is SO full of life and enthusiasm. I said that already, but it's doubly true.

Anyway, my little unicorn made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside today and i was grateful for that. It's the way i felt about Scheufle and Rebecca and Aimee, to name a few. Georgia was one of them and she's become my full-fledged sister from another mister, as well as my hero.
I've met really special people and for some reason i become so excited and moved by the ones i see as bright kids, doing what i never could at their age. Maybe i really should have been a teacher. I'm so grateful for feeling connections with elderly people (like Ruth who i just couldn't adore more, that lady just cracks me up), as well as with young twentysomethings, who i inevitably see as kids, but not in a condescending way. It's the people my age that i'm just now starting to feel i can bond with. I've spent a lot of time with people quite a bit older than me and quite a bit younger than me. And i feel really, really, really young and really, really, really old at the same time. Somehow i need to figure out how to just be me today, at this age.

Tonight, as i was opening the bottle of calcium pills that i'm going to start taking, i said out loud, "i need my mom." I'm not sure i've said that out loud before. It wasn't exactly apropos of anything, mostly i just remembered giving her all her pills and different kinds of vitamins and i wished she was here. I miss my mom all the time but i don't very often consciously say that i need her. I stopped in my tracks when i heard myself.

I love and feel this song:
"Days" - Bowie

Hold me tight
Keep me cool
Going mad
Don't know what to do
Do I need a friend?
Well, I need one now

All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you

All I've done
I've done for me
All you gave
You gave for free
I gave nothing in return
And there's little left of me

All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you

In red-eyed pain I'm knocking on your door again
My crazy brain in tangles
Pleading for your gentle voice
Those storms keep pounding through my head and heart
I pray you'll soothe my sorry soul

All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you
All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you

All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you

Dog sees god

I saw this really great play tonight. Andre invited Erika and i to see the play that a friend of his wrote and a different friend directed and produced. It's actually a play from a few years ago called "Dog Sees God," and it's about the main characters from the Peanuts comic strip as teenagers dealing with everything from death to personal and sexual identity to bullying. It was totally wonderful: smart, funny, touching, and truthful. I really liked it but i was also feeling, to paraphrase something Jenna said about a movie, "fuck you play!" I was with my coworkers and i didn't want to cry in front of them. I found myself turning my heart off and trying to become stone cold. I didn't want to get emotional, i didn't want to hurt or be sensitive in a room full of strangers plus my 4 coworkers. Plus i was already kind of raw from having seen Dr. Hirsh and walking through the streets wrestling with more bad memories.

When i said that what i tried to do for my mom wasn't enough, Dr. Hirsh said it was enough, but it just didn't change the outcome. It sounds good, but...how is that enough? In "Broken Open" the author talks about the need to stop blaming oneself and to give into the process of healing. Some crap like that. Haha. No, i forgot exactly but i think that's what Dr. Hirsh was saying, too. But that's not going to happen overnight.

Doc says i have to talk to Arthur about my feelings because if i don't the problem is not going to go away by itself. We talked on the phone tonight because he's catsitting in Brooklyn for the next two weeks, and it was nice. It's great when we talk on the phone. It's the whole "he lives here" thing that i have trouble with. Roseanne from work told me that both he and i need to have patience for each other. I hate patience sometimes.

So, clearly there are lots of things that excite and engage me in the world. Currently it's The Love Boat on dvd, and Dynasty on youtube. I'm just forever reliving my childhood. And there are so many people, and new people, that i care very deeply about. So there is a point to my life. I just need a bigger purpose. Not a special purpose, like in "The Jerk. " Just a bigger purpose.

But right now i'm feeling so super selfish. I mean i care about my tias and try to help them as much as i can by giving them my time and attention (as well as getting their attention). But i've been planning to do things that will make me happy. Jazz at Lincoln Center, the NY Film Festival, ABT in October, the Fringe Festival, and movies, movies, movies. So selfish. But i really want it.

I also want to visit Rick and Annie in Las Vegas before they move back to NYC in the late fall. I had the best time in Las Vegas with my mom 3 years ago and for some reason i've been dying to go there all summer. More than anywhere else in the world. I'm not afraid of being sad there. I think i need the good memories for once, instead of this city which is full of hospitals that failed us.

Apparently the subway's out

It's been happening more and more over the past few days and tonight it was just ridiculous. The minute, no, the second i step into that subway car and the doors close and the train starts moving, immediately terribly sad memories descend upon me and i cannot chase them away. It doesn't matter if i'm standing or i'm sitting. It's like there's something about that shiny chrome-like surface (not sure what subway cars are made of) that triggers sadness. It's gotten to be very annoying. Well, buses do it, too. It's so weird, why does public transportation trigger my saddest memories?

I had a terrible flashback of one of mom's trips to the emergency room on the way to my tia's tonight. And, i tried so hard to push it out of my mind. The subway is just not the place where i want to break down as i recall some of the most traumatizing moments of my life. The truth is i'm so afraid to revisit those memories at all. Like Alison said on Saturday, maybe if i write it all down, tell the complete story, maybe it'll be out of my head and therefore less haunting. Because right now it is haunting. I think the horror of it all is too much for me to handle so i keep pushing the memories away, i cannot take too much at once. Not that i want to forget how everything happened, how one doctor's appointment led to the next led to the emergency room visit led to emergency surgery led to convalescing at my aunts' homes led to innumerable tumors in the liver led to ascites and cachexia.

That stupid word. I hate that stupid word. I read it very early on in my mom's diagnosis. I tried so hard to feed my mom the right foods. But it didn't work. The cancer ate her. She slowly disappeared, became the feeblest little bird. That is so horrifying. Mom was joyful and strong and full of hope and never, ever, ever gave up hope that she would live. Even when she couldn't stand by herself anymore, she would miraculously get up the next day and hobble to the living room by herself. She was nothing but bones, and i remember the look of fear on her face as she looked at herself in the mirror, touching her chest and her collarbone. But i also remember when she looked in the mirror and said, "i don't look so bad today and my hair looks good." It's confusing to me because she was so, so, so strong while she was so weak and deteriorated. She kept on getting up. She would have the most amazing surges of energy and lifeforce. But at the end it must have been pure will. She asked Diane, the nurse, on Monday, 2 days before she died, why her legs were so heavy and why she felt so tired when she tried to walk. Diane was at a loss for words. My mom understood that she was dying, i think, i'm pretty sure, but she kept insisting on understanding why her body was doing this to her. I know she asked my family to take care of me, so that tells me she was preparing to be gone. But her friend, Zoraida, saw my mom the day before she died and tells me that mom told her she had faith that she could be cured. It hurt me so much to think that she wanted so badly to stay alive and get better, even when she was already in the last 24 hours of her life. But maybe that was just her way of not going gently into that good night. Not exactly rage, but determination against the dying of the light.

Okay, that was some sobfest i just experienced. A ti suspiramos gimiendo y llorando en este valle de lagrimas. How does it go in English?
Can't say i really feel any better. I feel snotty and my throat hurts and i can't breathe through my nose. I don't know, does it feel better? I can only hope that the sobbing does help get out my grief and lead me toward healing. I'm definitely exhausted and feel my head beginning to throb.

Okay i looked it up, it's one of the prayers from the Rosary: to thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.

Exactly.

No room for any thoughts other than "IT'S SO HOT!"

It's so hot and humid and unpleasant. But i think i can deal with it a lot better now than when i was younger. I used to truly HATE the summer. Now i realize i do need the sun's warmth at least for a few months out of the year.

I think i realized something new today. I realized that my cousin has been acting really happy and hopeful and like he's having fun, and living with him right now is not best fit for me. I mean, i've decided to wait it out for a few months but it's uncomfortable because the happier he acts the grumpier i get. It's not his fault at all, he really is super nice and kind and respectful. He's just a bit loud sometimes, in a "i feel enthusiasm about my life" kind of way, and i don't want to be around that sometimes. It's not like i'm mopey and dark all the time, not at all. I guess maybe it's that i put on a happy face a lot when i'm on the "outside," in my public life. So when i come home maybe i just want to be serious and sad or quiet. At least i'm trying to take this as a good learning experience. And today i learned that i can be a real buzzkill when i don't feel compelled to act like "i'm fine."

On the bright side (and i really am always compelled to look on the bright side), i cooked tonight. Quinoa and kale and a sweet potato. Loaded with vitamins and minerals and stuff. There's a part of me that wants to be healthy, the way i tried to help my mom beat cancer with nutrition, and there's a part of me that just doesn't care. But many times the part of me that really doesn't want to get cancer wins out and i go for healthy. That's a good thing.

Love, exciting and new...

Wait, not the romantic kind. The DVD kind. I bought season one, volume one of "The Love Boat" yesterday and i am all kinds of giddy about it. It might be the show that can cheer me up more than any other. Unless "Dance Fever" suddenly is released on DVD.

Kerri's birthday celebration, or observed birthday party, as her friend called it, was fun tonight. I met Alison at her apartment and we walked over together which was great because she knew exactly where to go. Kerri looked adorable in her yellow dress and blue accessories. Kerri was happy and laughing with all her friends and that was just great to watch. We ate veggie burgers with fries and everything was delicious. Not to mention hte amazing Magnolia cupcakes, provided by her friends. I got Kerri 4 dvds that represent pieces of New York that i love, so she can take them with her, wherever she goes: Moonstruck, Dog Day Afternoon, After Hours and West Side Story. Narrowing it down to four was tough but it was so much fun to research.

On the way down to my aunt's for lunch today, i had another attack of sadness. I can't recall right now what it was, maybe the mugginess. Somehow the hot weather makes me think of how my mother dealt with it. I wish she was here to feel the heat like i do. I texted Georgia, in part to remember my thought at the moment, that sometimes i can't believe that i can get through every day despite all the painful memories that constantly come up. Sometimes being outside in the world is terrifying. There's an infinite quantity of reminders and signifiers, as Jenna put it once, out there in the city. Lately i've been crying a lot on public transportation. I've been really wrestling with my memories, especially of the bad times. I don't ever want to forget them, because i don't want to pretend like it didn't happen. But my biggest hope right here and now is that one day i can recall the memories and not feel intense pain and terror. I have faith that when i am healed, even though it will always hurt to have lost my mom to cancer, i will be able to say "this happened to us, but i survived and the pain didn't win."
For now nothing really matters. Except being in the presence of the people i love. I'm not enthusiastic about anything in life and i'm okay with that. I'm not thinking about the future at all, just living in the moment i guess. Sometimes i try to do what would have made my mother happy, but most of all i'm doing all the things that amuse me like watching movies and hanging out with my friends. I think that every second that i'm not laughing and being amused is a second when i'm feeling pain and missing my mom.

Today i was thinking about the two types of grief i have. Sadness because i don't have my mom anymore and sadness because my mother got sick and died and that is SO FUCKING CRUEL. The lady who always took care of her health, who wouldn't let me eat breakfast cereal with colors in them because they were full of chemicals, the lady who was so concerned with recycling before we even had recycling in our building; this good-hearted, well-intentioned, funny, friendly, kind, gentle, caring, smart and conscientious woman was stolen by cancer. When will this fact become less painful?

Back to distraction:

Love Boat soon will be making another run
The Love Boat promises something for everyone
Set a course for adventure
Your mind on a new romance

And love won't hurt anymore
It's an open smile on a friendly shore
It's love
Welcome aboard
It's love!

Together again

I am exhausted. It was a long day but good one. Our support circle was back together again after about a month of not being complete. It was magical and, as always, so right. I thought about a million things to write about on the bus ride to tia's apartment, but it's more like days' worth of ideas and feelings and reactions to write about. Right now i'll just say that i decided something on the bus. Despite the terrible circumstances that brought us together, that led us to seek out CancerCare, we 9 were meant to be together. We were meant to be here for each other, right now. We fit, we are right.

Rooftop Circle was SO much fun. And it was great to sit there and have the sun set and the evening lay over us as we continued bonding in the warm city breeze.

I've often thought of the lyrics of the Muppets classic, "Saying Goodbye," (from The Muppets Take Manhattan) when thinking of my mom, and all our loved ones, and even on the night our group with Dominic at CC ended. But here's another song from the same movie that i was reminded of tonight.

[Kermit whistling]
[Kermit:]
Do, do, do, do, da da da, doo da do do do (etc.)
Together again
Gee, it's good to be together again
I just can't imagine that you've ever been gone!
It's not starting over, it's just going on!

[Miss Piggy:]
Together again
Now we're here and there's no need remembering when.

[Fozzie:]
Cause no feeling feels like that feeling!

[All three:]
Together again!

[All:]
Together again
Gee, it's good to be together again
I just can't imagine that you've ever been gone!
It's not starting over, it's just going on!
[Dr. Teeth & Floyd:]
Together again
Now we're here and there's no need remembering when
[All:]
Cause no feeling feels like that feeling!
Together-a!
Together-a!
Together-a!
Together again....!
Together again!!

Blogging, have you heard of it?

I saw the movie "Julie & Julia" tonight with Tzip. It was good, i enjoyed it. I LOVED Meryl Streep in it. Not only is she entertaining but she makes me feel great knowing a woman can be THAT amazingly talented and gifted in the craft of her choice. And i saw a trailer for a new Nancy Meyers film starring Meryl and Alec Baldwin! Hello! I already know i'm going to watch that dvd obsessively like i do now with "Something's Gotta Give" and "The Mirror Has Two Faces."

I was almost moved to tears a few times during the film (which is funny because i'm such a leaky faucet during movies) but there was one moment when i had that ole familiar feeling of "oh shit i need to get out of here, i can't hold it together." There's a scene where Julie is celebrating her 30th birthday with her husband and friends and she says that she thought it would be bad but it isn't. So i automatically thought of my 30th birthday, how it was really fun to go to dinner with friends and colleagues from Coliseum at the time. I had a great time actually; dinner, ice cream, then the pool hall. I left kind of early i forget why. I was even a bit drunk. I think?
Anyway, all i could think of while i was sitting in the dark movie theater was that i didn't spend the night with my mom. And i can't remember her that day. And i can't imagine now choosing to spend time away from her. I feel like if i could go back in time today, knowing she was going to die on April 1st, 2009, i would try to spend every moment with her that i possibly could.

This year wasn't nearly as bad as i feared it might be on my birthday. I didn't miss her more than any other day. Then again, that's one of those days when i did a good job of pushing all sadness away. I just lock it inside a closet for a while until company is gone and i'm alone again.

I told my mom i loved her every day, multiple times a day during the last few months of her life. But i wish i could go back 2, 3, 10 years and tell her i love her, every day, multiple times a day. I wish i hadn't been so cold, and such a jerk and lazy bum.

I did laugh during the movie tonight when Julie is creating her blog with the help of her husband. I was thinking, i JUST did the same thing last night.

The lightning when we got out of the movie theater was gorgeous, very dramatic, even kind of cinematic. It rained very little but the thunder and lightning were spectacular.

Making my list of questions

I decided i really needed to write down these questions before i forget them.

How do you get past knowing that you were a jerk to someone you love? As usual, i think of addicts in recovery and wonder, how do they get past the fact that they hurt people that loved them and how do they forgive themselves? I wasn't an addict but i equate myself with someone out of control.

How do i know when i've cried enough tears? How many tears does it take to heal me? When will the crying stop?

When do i know that therapy is complete and that i'm done with it?

How do you become okay with the person you are rather than bemoan the fact that you're not the person you wish you were?

How can i want to be somebody that i know is absolutely NOT me?

How do i make myself feel? How do i crack myself open? How do you make the memories not so painful anymore?

I cried during the movie, "(500) Days of Summer." Not because of what was happening on the screen, but because i don't know who i am and i wish i were the characters onscreen.

I had a gasping for air, crying, sledgehammer to the chest moment on Sunday night. Crossing the street to browse the DVD blowout shop i saw the street corner where my mom and Maxi had been watching the Halloween parade. I saw it and i saw her, happy and mischievous, wearing her silly mask, making me put it on. I walked quickly past the shop and just kept walking, trying to catch my breath, to catch myself, to walk it off and will the pain away. Got as far as 16th street before i slowed down and just surrendered to the exhaustion of holding it all in. I slipped into zombie mode, taking small, labored, unsteady steps. I headed toward Whole Foods, needing a destination and hoping the memories would go away. That feeling still, STILL catches me by surprise. WHAM! Smack in the chest, obliterating my ribs. I can't believe that my heart literally hurts. It wants to explode and i think i need to catch it before it bursts out of my body.
Why does it always happen in the middle of the street, in the middle of a store, in the middle of a subway platform? I always act swiftly to hold myself together. But i think that i probably shouldn't. Maybe i should find someplace to go where i can let it all spill out. Let the blood pour out rather than pressing my hand on the wound to stop it.

I KNOW i have to hurt. I'm trying to let it be okay but i still resist crying. I guess i'm too cowardly right now. I don't want to hurt anymore.

Where does my grief end and my search for a purpose begin? How do i cut myself a break but force myself to work hard at this, at the same time? I have to be the person my mother wanted me to be and believed i could be. How do i stop myself from ever feeling fear again?
What's the formula for turning darkness into light, fear into hope, emptiness into meaning and despair into joy? I want to be "broken open" just like the people in the book i'm reading.

She's gone and i'm here. My mom started a new life, in a new country, at age 33. I just turned that age, where is my new country? I need to be as fearless as she was. Or as faithful and hopeful. She always called me her "obra maestra." I need to honor her and live a purpose-driven life.

But right now i just need to let myself cry.