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Hallowe'en
I don't really know why it got to me this time. What it was about this particular year, or the circumstances, that set me off.
Partly, it was a prayer list I typed up for my job (I am now working at a church) for prayers for the dead to be said at a Mass on All Souls' Day. That started it, I suppose.
And then it had been a long and frustrating week after a long and frustrating month. Kids were home sick, I was fighting the flu, I had a class to teach that I was not prepared for, all the prep I had done was lost when, after months of warning, Google switched my websites from 'pages' to 'sites' unexpectedly. Everything I touched seemed to go just slightly off, like the taste of eating oranges after brushing one's teeth.
And I lost it yesterday. On Hallowe'en. Came back from a class which had gone unexpectedly wrong (2 people walked out and didn't return. That never happens to me). Fell asleep when I got back and woke, with a raging headache, to find extra people all over my house. Had to explain some simple facts to one child too many times in front of her friend - no, it is not okay to go trick-or-treating once you are in high school - no, a cape does not a costume make. Had a few verbal tussles with cousin who showed up a day early because I messed up. We were both in a mood. We were all in a mood.
And mine didn't get better - I lay in bed after they all went for a walk and, I'm sure, discussed my 'grumpiness' (as my husband typified it this morning) and I sobbed. I tried, really tried, not to. But nothing worked. I simply bawled.
It is hard to explain to people that emotions, especially strong emotions, are not always easily categorized or identified. I was crying because I hurt. I was crying because I was pissed off. I was crying because I was tired. I was crying because my cousin kept on pushing and nudging and prodding me (she's an expert). I was crying because my teenager was being a perfectly ordinary teenager.
Those things, most people would get, although they would roll their eyes and tell me not to be so sensitive. Or at least my husband would.
But I was also crying because I am afraid there is something seriously wrong with me. I was crying because I couldn't control my crying. And I was crying because 26 years ago, on Hallowe'en, while planning for her first Hallowe'en party in her new community, my best friend, whose name I had added to the List of Remembrance, died of an aneurysm. At 21. After fighting cancer for 2 years.
I was crying because 10 years later, also at Hallowe'en, my daughter's godmother died, also of cancer, leaving 3 children just barely starting their adult lives, the youngest not yet graduated from high school.
And I cried because they were both an important part of my life, but so long ago now that it is easy to - not forget them, because I never forget them - but easy to relegate them to the past, as something that is no longer immediate and present in the same way it was so many years ago. And so, when it hits - the sense of loss, that enormous regret over what they missed out on, all the things they never got to do, all the people - children, grandchildren - they never met, and who know them only as stories...
Well, I suppose crying for that, for all that lost potential and broken promise, I suppose crying for that is not unreasonable. And The Day of the Dead, All Souls', All Saints', these are the right times to think of these people. There were a lot of people I could have added to that list. But I only added Lori and Blanche. Because it was an anniversary for them both. Because it was a time of year and a holiday they both loved. And because this year, for whatever reason, the loss of them aches like an old injury in a cold damp night, something which never healed quite right and never will.
Rest in peace, my beloved friends. And know that you are not forgotten, and remain still much loved.
Rest eternal grant to them, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them
Partly, it was a prayer list I typed up for my job (I am now working at a church) for prayers for the dead to be said at a Mass on All Souls' Day. That started it, I suppose.
And then it had been a long and frustrating week after a long and frustrating month. Kids were home sick, I was fighting the flu, I had a class to teach that I was not prepared for, all the prep I had done was lost when, after months of warning, Google switched my websites from 'pages' to 'sites' unexpectedly. Everything I touched seemed to go just slightly off, like the taste of eating oranges after brushing one's teeth.
And I lost it yesterday. On Hallowe'en. Came back from a class which had gone unexpectedly wrong (2 people walked out and didn't return. That never happens to me). Fell asleep when I got back and woke, with a raging headache, to find extra people all over my house. Had to explain some simple facts to one child too many times in front of her friend - no, it is not okay to go trick-or-treating once you are in high school - no, a cape does not a costume make. Had a few verbal tussles with cousin who showed up a day early because I messed up. We were both in a mood. We were all in a mood.
And mine didn't get better - I lay in bed after they all went for a walk and, I'm sure, discussed my 'grumpiness' (as my husband typified it this morning) and I sobbed. I tried, really tried, not to. But nothing worked. I simply bawled.
It is hard to explain to people that emotions, especially strong emotions, are not always easily categorized or identified. I was crying because I hurt. I was crying because I was pissed off. I was crying because I was tired. I was crying because my cousin kept on pushing and nudging and prodding me (she's an expert). I was crying because my teenager was being a perfectly ordinary teenager.
Those things, most people would get, although they would roll their eyes and tell me not to be so sensitive. Or at least my husband would.
But I was also crying because I am afraid there is something seriously wrong with me. I was crying because I couldn't control my crying. And I was crying because 26 years ago, on Hallowe'en, while planning for her first Hallowe'en party in her new community, my best friend, whose name I had added to the List of Remembrance, died of an aneurysm. At 21. After fighting cancer for 2 years.
I was crying because 10 years later, also at Hallowe'en, my daughter's godmother died, also of cancer, leaving 3 children just barely starting their adult lives, the youngest not yet graduated from high school.
And I cried because they were both an important part of my life, but so long ago now that it is easy to - not forget them, because I never forget them - but easy to relegate them to the past, as something that is no longer immediate and present in the same way it was so many years ago. And so, when it hits - the sense of loss, that enormous regret over what they missed out on, all the things they never got to do, all the people - children, grandchildren - they never met, and who know them only as stories...
Well, I suppose crying for that, for all that lost potential and broken promise, I suppose crying for that is not unreasonable. And The Day of the Dead, All Souls', All Saints', these are the right times to think of these people. There were a lot of people I could have added to that list. But I only added Lori and Blanche. Because it was an anniversary for them both. Because it was a time of year and a holiday they both loved. And because this year, for whatever reason, the loss of them aches like an old injury in a cold damp night, something which never healed quite right and never will.
Rest in peace, my beloved friends. And know that you are not forgotten, and remain still much loved.
Rest eternal grant to them, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them
