The Family Sing

I still enjoy the holidays. 

Over Thanksgiving we had a family sing-along.  Trust me, this was a You Tube enhanced event, completley spontaneous, with no leader but lots of energy.  It stated with the best of The Lion King, moved on to Mulan, tackled a bit of Rent and ended up with hymns and church songs. 

And oh, I loved it
.

I could hear my grandmother singing “Now Thank We All Our God” from her tiny parish pew in rural Illinois.  Grandma was not a good singer, but she sure belt out the hymns!  We spent a lot of time as kids at her big house on the river and her little church was the site of both her funeral and my parents’ wedding.   So many powerful memories in one song.

I was re-living Molly singing “Seasons of Love” with other girls during a high school performance.  It was such a great moment on the stage and I remember watching and hoping that she was sensing that she was part of something big and wonderful and special.  And I also remember a vague awareness that she was really not understanding how wonderful she was.

Lion King songs brought back the day that Molly and a cousin saw Lion King on Broadway.  We went to McDonald’s before the show (high class, right?) and had great seats for the performance.  Wonderful.

There are just three generations of us alive right now.  But the whole family was there to sing – in our memories, in our hearts, in our midst. 

And that’s why I still love the holidays.   The veil is very thin at this time of year.  We can almost touch the infinite.   I will hear my grandmother’s voice; I will hang my daughter’s ornaments.  And I will celebrate that love never dies and is never ever wasted.

Thanksgiving Stillness

So here we are at Thanksgiving.   We are spending time in Plam Springs, CA with my inlaws and it is paradise for sure.   This is a new tradition for us, something we have done only since Molly died, but it is fun and sustaining and a good break.  Perfect weather.  A pool and a hot tub.  Some board games with a glass of wine.   A complete departure from our East Coast lives.

There is a lot of quiet.  That will be remedied by the end of the week  when a dozen neices and nephews are expected to descend on us.  But until then, there is beauty and stillness and an invitation to literally sink in to peace.

Maybe I will find some peace here.  Peace is different than the confidence and happiness that comes from constant motion.  Peace implies that I can be still long enough to let the cacophony of doubts and memories and confusions that always accompany quiet have their place in my heart and then leave.

So here I am.  Quiet.  Available.  Listening.  And eager to let the stillness give way to tomorrow's 5K race followed by the trip to the hot tub and a great dinner.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Nightmares

The dreams have been coming.

Hangings.  Everywhere.  I wake to them.

And then I get up and live my life.  Most of the people I interact with on a daily basis would be shocked to know that my daughter died by suicide.  At work, folks don’t know me well and for the most part I function either somewhat anonymously or at least at a reasonable level of competence.  I don’t ooze grief.

But that doesn’t mean.  For one second.  That the dreams go away.  Or that I am somehow “over” this nightmare.

Molly’s suicide is part of me.  Forever.  But I am not going to give these dreams more of my life than they have already taken.

I love the 5 year old mastering the monkey bars, the 10 year old at ease on a horse, the 14 year old with such incredible music and drama skills, and the 16 year old who chose to leave this life.  I love them all.

Part of my story is plainly horrific and emerges in sleep, but Molly is special and loved and even sacred to me.   I will not be afraid of my own memories.

Thank You, Collin!

My nephew had the choice to celebrate his birthday with a weekend in New York City, or to spend the weekend with us.  He chose to spend the weekend with us.

I don’t think that he is old enough (11) to understand how he has honored us with his choice.   For him, we are a safe place where there are plenty of video games and not too many rules or restrictions.  I don’t think we’re a service project.

I do think that Collin’s choice to spend his birthday weekend with us is a huge affirmation.  It suggests that we are good with kids – fun to be around – a choice worth making.  I know that Molly saw us that way too – I really do;  I don’t think her death was in any way about us.  But it is incredibly special to know that young people continue to look up to us, to need us, to seek us out.  Our nieces and nephews, Molly's friends, our neighbors - young people are at the heart of our healing.  And we are grateful.

So this weekend I’ll be baking a lemon birthday cake, buying some balloons, and heading to the local adventure park.  Maybe we’ll go to Dave and Buster’s.  I know we’ll play lots of wii. 

Collin has voted with his birthday in our favor, and I can’t wait to make it a special and fun occasion for all of us.

Vegas

Just got back from Vegas. 

Vegas has a definite underside.  It is smoky and LOUD and I was there over Halloween, so it was also particularly garish.  Crude.  I enjoyed the Osmond shows, and Human Nature – the Motown group – is great too, but basically I don’t need Vegas.

Except that Frances loves it, and sometimes you just have to do what you have to do.   My grandmother used to say, after losing her husband less than 20 years into their marriage, that she often wished she had going fishing with him more.  A cousin who lost her husband when their children were very young is comforted by the fact that she went to many Nascar races with him – even though she could think of plenty of other things to do.

If there is one thing I know it is that life can change in an instant.

So, my style is to find ways to enjoy Vegas once a year or so…  and over the years I have done that.   The spas are wonderful, and minimally priced if you just settle in for the day and don’t get any treatments.  The restaurants are great – particularly if you go for lunch when prices are lower than evening menus.  And I gamble a bit too, especially with the new fancy slot machines they have these days.  I can find ways to have fun.

I don’t love Vegas.  I am always glad to come home.  But the reality is that I am also relatively happy to go, because I am spending time building memories (ask me about the Vegas Timeshare presentation sometime!) and I have learned, from painful experience, just how sustaining memories can be.