Overly Emotional and Introspective...
It's weird how depression hits...Or when you feel it coming but there's nothing you can do. Like a slow motion car wreck.
I keep thinking of the book Sweet Thursday, one of my favorites...of Doc sitting at his desk and trying to work and, while his top voice says "work work work" his second voice tells him it is futile while--in the very back of his mind, unbeknownst to even him--the third voice says simply, "lonely...lonely..."
Maybe I just listen to too much Radiohead, or because of the recent snow, or because my friends somehow seem more distant than before...or maybe it's because I miss my family and home. Then again, "Maybe that's all home is--a group of people who miss the same imaginary place." (anyone know the movie?)
A few years ago...before I left for the army, my little sister and I went to a small restaurant in Coronado. She hadn't even met Shamus yet and was worried about her future...I was worried about the army and how I would cope with everything (if anyone knew me before the army, in my more counter-culture days, you'd understand the apprehension). It was a fifties style soda counter with lots of chrome and jukebox with Johnny Lang...I don't know why I always think of that day as the turning point...when we all (my whole family) went from what we were to what we are. I love my family still how they are...and I'm really happy they're all happy, especially Lucia and Shamus, but I can't help but wish I could have one more day how things were.
I'm rambling as I type becuase I'm trying to root out what the hell this feeling is...so, if you're bored or reading or simply don't want to know this much about me (which is more than understandable) then please feel free to stop reading and send me an email that reads, "suck it up and drive on asshole."
I have this vivid memory of my dad's last days...when he was in the bed in the room with the purple fireplace. I was sitting on the stoop of the fireplace wondering what to do (what does one do to pass time until death?) My dad was going in and out of consciousness and, when he was awake, he was mainly crying or confused or simply rambling. My mom came in and wiped his face and gave him some water and Kristie and Jason were sitting on a couch on the other end of the room. They were holding each other. Lucia and Shamus were standing in the entryway where there isn't a door...but that's where the opening to the room was. After my mom wiped dad's lips, she started to cry...then she did something that has always stuck with me...
Even though my dad couldn't feel her, or know she was there, she crawled into the bed with him and just held him. Her head was on his chest and she put his leathery arm around her and just laid there...breathing and crying and being with him.
I remember thinking to myself that if I were to go through that, I would go through it alone...ha ha ha...to quote yet another movie, "It takes a special type of person to worry about being along for the rest of your life in your twenties..." (you know this one Dulla?) But...I did worry. I imagined myself in a well furnished apartment with cool records and a well stocked liquor cabinet with all the accoutrements of a well lived life and me in it...Alone. That's a crazy idea...but I feel like it's the life I'm setting myself up for.
I keep thinking of the book Sweet Thursday, one of my favorites...of Doc sitting at his desk and trying to work and, while his top voice says "work work work" his second voice tells him it is futile while--in the very back of his mind, unbeknownst to even him--the third voice says simply, "lonely...lonely..."
Maybe I just listen to too much Radiohead, or because of the recent snow, or because my friends somehow seem more distant than before...or maybe it's because I miss my family and home. Then again, "Maybe that's all home is--a group of people who miss the same imaginary place." (anyone know the movie?)
A few years ago...before I left for the army, my little sister and I went to a small restaurant in Coronado. She hadn't even met Shamus yet and was worried about her future...I was worried about the army and how I would cope with everything (if anyone knew me before the army, in my more counter-culture days, you'd understand the apprehension). It was a fifties style soda counter with lots of chrome and jukebox with Johnny Lang...I don't know why I always think of that day as the turning point...when we all (my whole family) went from what we were to what we are. I love my family still how they are...and I'm really happy they're all happy, especially Lucia and Shamus, but I can't help but wish I could have one more day how things were.
I'm rambling as I type becuase I'm trying to root out what the hell this feeling is...so, if you're bored or reading or simply don't want to know this much about me (which is more than understandable) then please feel free to stop reading and send me an email that reads, "suck it up and drive on asshole."
I have this vivid memory of my dad's last days...when he was in the bed in the room with the purple fireplace. I was sitting on the stoop of the fireplace wondering what to do (what does one do to pass time until death?) My dad was going in and out of consciousness and, when he was awake, he was mainly crying or confused or simply rambling. My mom came in and wiped his face and gave him some water and Kristie and Jason were sitting on a couch on the other end of the room. They were holding each other. Lucia and Shamus were standing in the entryway where there isn't a door...but that's where the opening to the room was. After my mom wiped dad's lips, she started to cry...then she did something that has always stuck with me...
Even though my dad couldn't feel her, or know she was there, she crawled into the bed with him and just held him. Her head was on his chest and she put his leathery arm around her and just laid there...breathing and crying and being with him.
I remember thinking to myself that if I were to go through that, I would go through it alone...ha ha ha...to quote yet another movie, "It takes a special type of person to worry about being along for the rest of your life in your twenties..." (you know this one Dulla?) But...I did worry. I imagined myself in a well furnished apartment with cool records and a well stocked liquor cabinet with all the accoutrements of a well lived life and me in it...Alone. That's a crazy idea...but I feel like it's the life I'm setting myself up for.
Labels: Dad
posted by Adam at 2:08 PM
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