Thoughts of Mortality

This is NOT a suicide note - let me just preface this. I'm not in a sad mood, just a reflective one. Sometime before Mom died - it might've ben two days before she had her stroke - she looked at me thoughtfully and said, "I've had a good life. I've done almost everything I've wanted. I married the love of my life, I've traveled to New York, Hawaii, gone on cruises, been parasailing. I don't want to die, but if I do, I'm ok. I don't have anything left on my bucket list, really." No one can choose when they die (unless they're suicidal or going on a kamikaze mission), and some die too soon. My mom was very upset by the cancer diagnosis, but once she realized that the cancer would kill her, and fast, she stopped being angry. At least, in front of us. I leave for Europe soon, and before I fly I usually send a satirical email to my family with my travel information and information about what to do if my plane crashes - how someone can identify my body. A friend of mine and I used to joke with each other about being careful to avoid fiery car crashes. Death seems so far away, until it's not. I think about my mom's statement a lot. Looking back at my life, I realize all that I've experienced - and if I die next week, then no one can say that I haven't had a full life. I've been to Europe 3 times, been all over the United States (including San Diego, countless trips to NY and Washington, DC, Seattle, and most of the southern states), Mexico, the Cayman Islands. I've seen countless shows on Broadway (getting autographs and pictures of Ralph Fiennes, the emperor from "Star Wars," Jonthan Price, Lucy Arnaz, Sarah Rameriz, David Hyde Pierce), I've conversed online with my favorite Broadway star, I've been on movie sets (eating at the same table as Ben Affleck and almost walking into Alec Baldwin). I've two bachelor degrees and am almost done with my master's. I've run 3 full marathons and 5 half-marathons. I've won fellowships with Fund for Teachers and the Folger Shakespeare Library. I've turned the pages of a First Folio and I've touched a letter written by Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester to his lover, Queen Elizabeth I. I've directed three Shakespeare plays and have acted and sung in countless others. I've dated some interesting characters and am therefore filled with incredible stories from those relationships. I've ridden in a helicopter. I've been a member of a committee on the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. I've learned photography and jewelry making. I am well loved by my students and administrators. I live with an amazing man. I was lucky enough to have a wonderful father and mother, although if I live to be an old woman, I'll have lived my life more without them than with them. So I then I start thinking about MY bucket list. It's not very long. Travel: the Grand Canyon, Bucharest, Budapest, Turkey, Spain. Finish my master's thesis. Get married and have at least one baby (which if I live long enough, will happen). Learn to knit. But honestly, if I die tomorrow, don't be sad. Look at all I've accomplished - before turning 34. I've had a pretty good life. And whenever I do die (hopefully it won't be for a very long time), I'll have my parents waiting for me.

Healing....

Healing from my mother's death is coming alone slowly. I'll never be fully healed, but I'm getting better. I've been out of school this week, and honestly that's done a load of good. I haven't been able to really be a couch potato since in a long time - where I can just sit, read, watch tv, exercise, and not really stress about things. I'm working here and there for the summer, but am going to consciously try to keep the stress to a minimum and, frankly, be a bum for as much as I can. That said, I still need to work on my thesis - so how much of a bum can I really be? As I cleaned out a closet the other day (trying to decrease the amount of "stuff" I have), I had an epiphany. My parents dying isn't unfair at all. Unfair means that something inordinately unjustified happened - but death is a fact of life. Everyone dies, everyone experiences the death of a loved on - and that's fair. Life IS fair because everyone experiences tragedies, and frankly others have it worse than I do. Instead, I'm choosing to say that my parents' death is unfortunate. I'm starting to realize what a great support group I have. Billy is wonderful and is so protective of me - I honestly don't know what I'd do without him. He makes me laugh so much, and being with him is so easy - I don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing, or worry that he won't like something that I do, or worry that my intelligence and/or zest intimidates him. I can't handle stress and difficulty right now, and thank heavens there isn't a great deal in our relationship. If we weren't together, I'm sure I would be a hermit right now. And we're going to Poland together in the fall, which will be a wonderful trip to help me survive the first holiday season without my parents. Not only is my boyfriend supportive, but I have my own group of friends as well as my mom's. One of my mother's dear friends is "adopting" us - we'll be spending Father's Day with them, and other upcoming holidays. She also will be the adopted grandmother to our children, which means a lot to us. Another of Mom's dear friends will be taking me on a trip to Budapest or Turkey in December- we both love international travel and she has international tickets that she needs to use this year. So, I'm ok. I have good days and bad days, and sometimes I remember things I don't want to - like how Mom looked in her final days, how she was angry when she found out she had lung cancer, how excited she was to hear I might be going back to Italy (where I was to buy her a rosary from the Vatican). And I remember her weakly telling me, "I'll miss you" when I left her hospital room for a couple of hours one day to run errands, how she asked me to stay with her until she fell asleep, how she told me every day she could talk that she loved me. How she stopped waking up. Life is fair. It's a cycle. It's not always happy and it's not always fortunate, but her death was going to happen sometime. It's very unfortunate that it happened while she was young, but she's with my father and that makes me smile. I still miss her every day, and I'm sure future posts will still be about her. She was a lady, and I cherish the bits of her that she passed down to me. Ciao.