anniversaries

mondays are going ot be my special days from now on, my days just for me to write and think and clear out my brain, to spend a little time checking in and taking care of myself. a much needed day. and this particular monday is an especially free one, as i have no writing class tonight, and J is working a double, so i have the whole house and the whole entire day to myself. yea. but strangely, even with all of this free time and space, all i have motivated myself to do so far is eat and sleep, and it is almost afternoon, so here goes.

last saturday was the ninth anniversary of my mother's death. it's strange how her death day has become almost more significant to me than her birth day. sad. friday night at midnight i was over at my friend R's house and my phone started beeping right at midnight. i'd forgotten that i had programmed the day into my phone's calender, unaware that that also set an alarm. what a wake up call- " your mother died today! your mother died today! remember, remember! your mother died today!" most of saturday i tried not to dwell on it, and i worked that night, with plans to go out drinking later that night with J and some friends, so i figured i would be fine, plenty to distract me. but both of my aunts called me at work to see how i was doing. and later that night at the bar it was all i could talk about, until i got myself distractingly and purposefully drunk. but i woke up sunday morning just fine, sure i had made it through another one, better than usual, less drama, less mess. we had friends coming over for dinner that night, so that whole day was full too, cleaning the house, going to the grocery store, cooking like a madwoman. so much to do, no time to dwell, busy busy busy!

the trouble started with the red wine, though even that took time.

dinner was great, company was great, except for a slightly runny cheesecake, all was well. when everyone left, J and i settled into the couch and watched Carnivale, a show i have become totally obsessed with, while my giddy, tipsy hostess high wore down. the house was warm, my belly was full, i had spent the evening with some of my favorite people, now i was watching my favorite show with my favorite man, and all was well in the world. until the show ended, and the wine began it's usual tricks.

red wine makes me sad and emotional. i don't know what it is, or why it's so, but it always happens. i love it- last night we had a rich zinfandel, so deep and dark and sweet like cherries and smoke- but it is always a dangerous thing to play with if i have anything important on my mind. even things that are deeply buried will come out when i am drinking red wine. (remind me not to drink it at my wedding...)

as J turned the tv to a sports channel, and i got up to go to the bathroom, the sadness began to hit me. suddenly everything that i had been trying to ignore on saturday began trickling through my brain. i felt sad, and hopeless, and lonely, and isolated, and scared, and hard, and cold. i told J i was going to take a shower. i stripped off my clothes and crawled under the hot spray. (i wonder why it is that when i am upset i always want to take a shower- is it a womb thing? a water as redemption thing? just a sensory distraction, a guiltess indulgence?) but even standing there in the water i could not cry, either for myself or for her. lately i have been sad, but i cannot seem to cry. i just stood there, with the water hitting my back and thought about how alone i have felt since she left. how i have never let anyone into my life all the way, even J (though he's come the closest), since she died. and how i am so sick and tired and frustrated and angry at the way i have shut myself off. how desperately i want to be open and brave and hopeful like i was when i was a child, when i felt safe and protected and sure of myself. i hate remembering her death day. i hate always noticing that she's gone. i hate that now i have to do that with my dad too, and i can feel myself not believeing that he is dead. i want a day when i do not think of them. i want a day when it does not cross my mind. or i want

hell, i don't know what i want, but this melancholy thing is not nearly so romantic in real life as it is in tennessee williams plays, and i am more than a little tired of being so damn introspective and aware of my feelings. sometimes i see stupid shallow people and i envy them. it must be nice to go through life not thinking about things all of the time, just doing what you're told or what you're supposed to do. and who can i blame for my acute self-awareness? my mother, of course.
i just miss her. i want her back. i want my dad back too, but my mom more, because i am starting to forget what she looks like. i am starting to forget what she sounds like. and i don't know if i do remember who she was. we never got to be friends. we would have been great friends. i wish i had gotten a chance for her to drive me crazy, like everyone else is always saying their moms do. i wish she had been the first one i called when i got engaged. i wish she was pressuring me to have grandkids, or pushing me to get a better job, or calling at the most inconvenient times, or trying to treat me like a child even though i'm all grown up. i wish that i had been the one to let her go, to push her away as i grew, instead of her leaving me first.

three thousand days. next year it will be ten years. and ten years after that she will have been gone from my life longer than she was in it. right now i am becoming a grown up, and my mom is not here to see it. i will start my own family some day, and no one in it will have known her but me.