Memories

All I want right now is to go to sleep. But then going to sleep simply isn't enough when you can't stay asleep. So, what I really want is to fall and stay asleep -- to be specific. Ever since last Wednesday... Well, I haven't had an actual night's sleep since before. Maybe if shit would stop coming up, I could stop stressing long enough to actually get some good REM.

My insomnia started last Wednesday with my PawPaw. PawPaw is (was) my step mom's father. He'd been diagnosed with ALS -- a disease where your muscles basically stop working over time -- last fall/late summer. It worked through his body very quickly. By Christmas he was in a wheel chair and had a special device to hold his arm so he could eat. By early January, the last I'd seen him before last Wednesday, he couldn't even lift his arms on his own.

Kathleen, my step mom, had tried keeping me updated as things progressed. She informed me when he couldn't walk or use his arms at all. She informed me of when he had to be put on a machine to help him breathe. She informed me of when they put in a feeding tube. I knew, as the information became more dire, that he was much more quickly spiraling down -- though I just figured to myself "I have time to see him."

Very early last week -- may have even been on Sunday or Saturday -- I got emails stating that Hosparus (used to be called Hospice) was being set up in my grandparents' home. I know what Hosparus is and what it means: it means that person's dying, and they're there to simply help make dying a little easier. I knew, I just didn't acknowledge, I guess. Then, after exchanging emails across my dad's aunts and such about plans for Easter weekend, I got a message early last Wednesday morning from Kathleen letting everyone know that she won't be attending any Easter celebrations, because the doctors had informed her that her father could go at any time now.

It finally sunk in: PawPaw's dying. He's dying now. Because I have no class on Wednesday, and therefore it's my homework day, I finished my house and homework, called Kathleen to let her know that I was finally coming over, and sped into Louisville. Kathleen did warn me before I left, "It's going to be hard... to see him like this." I'd seen my mom's dad in the hospital dying from cancer a couple years ago, and it was a tragic thing for me to see this tall, strong man who I always adored to have wasted into the skinny, old frame that sat on the hospital bed. At least he was conscious, though. I'd always regretted how I said goodbye to my mom's dad, Granddad. I was so scared of the fact that he was dying, and so before we left, I had given him a short hug, rushed out the words "I love you," and almost ran out of the room. That's how I remember it, anyway. Because my mom's parents live -- "lived" for Granddad -- in Arizona, I had to leave to get my flight back home. A couple weeks later my mom got the call that he'd moved on.

Because I rushed my goodbye, my final goodbye, I never felt at peace about the passing of my mom's father, my Granddad. I had promised myself since then that I would never rush saying goodbye ever again. You only get one chance at it, after all. So, as I drove over to Kathleen's parents' home, I braced myself for what I knew I was going to see and went over in my head what I was going to say to my PawPaw. I was not going to regret again. Even though I grew up close to PawPaw, and therefore had many memories of him in my mind, the image that seemed to define him the most for me was of him wearing one of his wide-brimmed sun hats, standing relaxed with his giant walking stick he'd take with him when he took us grandkids out to the river bed. Oh, and with an almost constant grin on his face. A sly grin that told everyone he had yet another corny joke brewing in his head. That's the image that's always stood out in my mind the most.

When I got to MawMaw's, my Aunt Brenda -- eyes red -- showed me back to the room his bed had been set up in. I could literally feel the weight in the air. Kathleen's two sisters, Ginna and Judy, from out of town had already flown in and where there with her and her brother, Brian, and his wife Brenda. All of PawPaw's kids were there already, along with MawMaw, his wife. The weight in the air made it hard to breathe as I walked back to the room. Then I saw him lying on the bed. His gasping for breath made a clicking sound each time he inhaled, his arms and legs were completely still, and his eyes were closed. As soon as I saw him the dam behind my eyes crumbled, and the tears started falling. Yes, he really is dying. My aunts and Kathleen hugged me for comfort, and MawMaw started crying with me, thanking me for coming. I had finally come over.

They told me while they weren't 100% when he was awake, he'd responded a few times to "yes" or "no" questions with shaking his head some. They said he could hear me. It was so hard to talk, let alone talk loudly. They told him I was here. I touched his hand, kissed his forehead, rubbed his arm, and I told him I loved him. They'd started giving him morphine almost hourly so that it wouldn't hurt too much to breathe. Every once in a while when I was there, the morphine would start to wear off, and his breathing would slow while his hands and feet turned blue. But he still gasped for breath while I was there.

I spent time with Kathleen, MawMaw, my aunts, my uncle, and some of my cousins who'd made it over that night. I was so happy to be with them that evening. I didn't want to be anywhere else with anyone else. I just wanted them there with me. Before I left that evening, I touched and kissed PawPaw, and I told him I loved him. I told him I was leaving. I knew I was going back the next day, and told everyone else before I left. Even though I had classes, I emailed my professors to inform them of the situation and that I'd be with my family instead. Thursday morning I did have to attend my public speaking class. I had a speech due, and this late in the semester, it'd be a pain to have to re due.

I was eating lunch when Kathleen called me on Thursday afternoon. Could I please go to her and my dad's house to be there when the girls -- my little sisters -- got home from school, was what she wanted. "Sure, no problem," I replied. "He's passed. He's not with us anymore, Julie. His pain is gone now." The words slipped so easily into my ears, but then exploded in my head. "Do you mind telling Vanessa and Dianne? Are you okay with doing that?" "Sure, I don't mind."

I eventually made my way back to MawMaw's that evening. I hugged everyone. We cried. We made arrangements. I was made a pallbearer, and felt honored. When I finally got back home to my boyfriend's house, I was almost like a zombie in a way. I couldn't tell if I was tired, nervous, or sad. So I drew a picture. A woman curled up in a drop of blue water. A smiling face above her. The word "blue" scrawled next to the drop. Purple smudged all around the picture. The yellow and orange word "hope" written so small in the bottom corner. It's how I felt, I guess, in some way.

His funeral was Monday, April 13th. It rained when we got to the funeral home. The clouds stayed out during the prayers and service. I watched them close the casket over his body. He's truly gone now, I'd thought to myself. It was so hard to see that, but it gave me closure. I knew that he's gone now. I knew I'd said goodbye. I knew that he loved me, and I made sure to tell him that I loved him. During the Hallelujah chorus in the service, the sun came out. Sun was much more fitting for this. He's not in pain anymore. He's free now. He's happy now.

When I got home Monday evening, I drew another picture. I'd been listening to Arcade Fire, and thinking about their music. I wrote out the lyrics to "Keep the Car Running" on a piece of paper in dark blue. I sketched a crude figure of a man in brown, black and green, bent over looking down. Behind him and to his right I sketched another figure in yellow, green, and purple with arms outstretched towards the dark figure and large, yellow wings extending to the top of the page. Their bodies weren't colored in, and so you can see the words behind them. I outlined in red over the blue the words "If some night I don't come home; please don't think I've left you alone."

I'm still mourning PawPaw's death. I don't like correcting myself when I start to say "MawMaw and PawPaw's house," cutting myself off at his name. But I have complete peace now. I was able to say goodbye -- like I needed to. I'll always miss him, but this time, I have no regrets. Though I did learn one thing from this past week: stay close to your family while you have them. This world isn't forever, and people are all we have. Family and friends are what's important. That was PawPaw's final lesson for me. And I'll always thank him for it.

True Love's First Kiss

So... I just watched "Enchanted," and am so enchanted with that movie. First of all, Amy Adams is AMAZING. Basically. She completely, believably encompasses all of the innocence, earnesty, and true goodness of the classic Disney princesses. Sigh. I love her. She's officially my celebrity crush right now. And, yes, the movie did have the wretched pop song montage ending with Carrie Underwood -- yes, Disney, we know, she's about as boring and cliche as you can get -- but other than that, I thought it was one of their best movies in years. And I'm not including Pixar movies, because that company's just using Disney's name to get the funding, and Disney's just fine feeding off of their brilliant ideas and talent.

One of the first moments where I was really, really pleased with how incredibly good and earnest Giselle is, is when Robert -- the lawyer who ends up being her true love -- is pulling her through the train/bus station and she stops to admire the very odd sculpture of the fat woman with small breasts (which does not at ALL adhere to modern day's standards of beauty) and says how beautiful she is. I absolutely love, love, love the fact that she honestly sees beauty in all women she meets. Because that is one very important lesson which I have learned: there is beauty in everyone. I can honestly say that all of my female friends and acquaintances are beautiful. Really. If you're female, know me, and reading this, you're beautiful. And if you question this statement, just confront me about it. The worst thing is that I'll tell you I was wrong.

And I absolutely loved the moment where Robert is talking to the couple who was trying to get a divorce, and they talk about how Giselle reminded them of why they fell in love with each other in the first place. I mean, you saw it coming, but it was still such a sweet moment. And Robert's trying to question them and make them change their minds, and they just tell him that giving up over the bad times is worth missing out on all the good times. Sigh. And that's true! Just because the bad times come up -- and they always will and they WILL be BAD -- doesn't mean they're not worth fighting through to save all of the good times. People give up to easy, I think. Yes, they also impulsively get married and sometimes it really is an unfortunate mistake made on whim, but if you know you love someone, and they know they love you, it really is that simple. If you love someone, you'll fight to be with them... no matter what.

And I love that the movie progresses (if maybe only slightly) past the fluttery, sunshine-y, puppy dog love phase into the communicating and knowing someone phase where you can actually love someone for who they are, not just what they are. Where you know you're right for someone because you fit with them, not just because you think or want to be right for them. Oh, but I do love the moment where they're at the ball in New York, and Robert starts singing to Giselle. Sigh. That was so sweet. I'm not necessarily an incredibly mushy person (I actually for the most part have little to no tolerance for mush), but I love singing. When she brings him to song... I just thought it was so sweet. So, call me mushy or a hopeless romantic (for those reading who aren't naturally romantic), but I really felt all warm and fuzzy inside while watching this movie. And the fact that they're dancing at a ball! Oh my goodness -- who wouldn't be absolutely taken away from dancing in a ball in those gowns?? 'Cause I would! Take me now! Please!!

I guess it was just nice to see that intermix of the fairy-tale mush and romance with the "sorry, I didn't have time" reality of relationships. I for one do like romance and horse-drawn carriages and flowers and pretty dresses and animals (who sing, of course)... but I also greatly appreciate the reality of anger and sadness that comes with it. Oooo, that's another great moment: when she gets angry at Robert for always saying "no." It's when she feels anger towards him that she realizes she actually cares. It's when someone is able to make you angry and sad like no one else that you truly care about them -- and that's the scariest part about real love for most people, I think. Because that is the reality: getting hurt and hurting and having to fight for something/someone. I guess that's why some just don't do "real" love. They just seem to stick with the fairy tale version. The "fluff."

That's where bravery comes in, I guess. It takes courage to have real love and make it last. Lots. Because true love's first kiss is always the best... but it's also the easiest thing you'll ever do in a relationship. It's the kiss after a fight that's harder to make happen. So, I guess you could say, really, that that's the one that matters: the making-up kiss. 'Cause, if the making-up kiss doesn't ever happen, it wasn't true love to begin with, was it?

Love and Marriage... Right?

"That's what it's all about, isn't it? That's what it's really about, really about? Loooooove!"

Oh, the sweet, sweet music and lyrics from Company. I know, I'm obsessed. But then again, I am in the show, and therefore have been thinking about the show and all of its meanings quite a bit for the past few months. And as I sit here and savor my chocolate fudge cake and triple chocolate ice cream -- leftovers from my boyfriend, Doug's, birthday -- I also think about many conversations I've had with him about the matter. See, one thing I've found over my almost six years of dating is that it really, really sucks ass to date someone, fall in love, and then break up. It's just annoying, to say the least. All that effort and work... for nothing it seems. But then, I'd like to think that I've learned life lessons and general character lessons from my previous "failures;" I'd like to think everyone does. Everyone should, anyway. If a relationship fails, stop and think about what was your fault. Something was at some point in time. What could you have done to make it work? "Nothing" is sometimes the answer, but if not, people really should try to fix in themselves what needs it -- for future relationships, but also, I think, for one's own personal development.

Now that that lecture's out of the way... Marriage. What about it? Why is marriage so... scary. In a society where it's the most expected step in life -- other than death and bearing children (kids are another blog post another time) -- so many people talk about marriage like it's this odd, foreign word which means "changes everything" and "loss of freedom" and other, frankly, stupid intonations. When one looks at the basics of a married couple, it usually follows as: a couple which lives together, sleeps together, and when able, eats together. The couple shares bills accordingly, may or may not have children or pets, and they (again, in an "ideal" and basic marriage) are exclusive to each other in a spoken and unspoken way where as their love continues to grow and mature over time, they are still obligated to each other and their families.

K. That's nice. Now, as of this moment, I don't have a job. I'm a student and do shows and film... it's your basic excuse train, but I do work full-time in the summer, and will year-round once I actually graduate. So, lets say that day comes, and I now have an income on which I can actually support myself. I now help pay the bills with my boyfriend. Now, our relationship is exactly as described above -- except, we're not legally bound to each other. Nor do I have a rock on my left ring finger. So, I guess the stump that keeps stopping me is what the hell the difference is between the two relationships. What's the difference between being married and not being married? "When you're married, you're obligated, but not just out of love" was one way my boyfriend tried to explain it to me. "Like right now, I like your family, but once we're married, I'm obligated to them, whether or not I want to be. If I want to simply not show up on Christmas, I can't." To which I asked, "Why not?" He just shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh. "Didn't you say once that there shouldn't be a change after getting married? That marriage shouldn't change things?" is what I reminded him of. "Yes, but it's different when it comes to obligations."

Oh. Obligations. That's certainly a scary word if I ever heard one. However, that stump's still there for me, because to me, love shouldn't change, even when legalities and statuses and titles do. (I never planned to change my name when I got married, so I didn't list names as one of the changes.) To me, if you love someone, you're obligated to them no matter what. Even if their family does bug you. Even if they do have bad morning breath, don't leave any clean towels hanging up after showering, or any other little annoyance one can only experience from living with someone -- you still stay with them and support them and obligate yourself to them. All because you love that person. So, to me, if you love someone, truly, and want to devote your life to them, logically, in most cases, the next step would be marriage. Not because you need to, but because you want to. Because you want to publicly announce to the world just how much you love this person: to obligate yourself to them until death parts you from them. To me, you don't need a legal document to state this or prove this. In fact, I've seen the opposite.

Many people use marriage as a way to legally stay with someone, but still fuck around. Still cheat on their partner, abuse them in some way, or just to get the few legal benefits left from being married. They don't take it seriously. And by taking it seriously, I mean actually do what they promised to do -- even before marriage. You don't ask someone to marry you, or say "yes" to an engagement without promising yourself to that person right then and there. If you have any idea of what the ceremonial vows are, then I think you understand what you're getting yourself into before it's legal. So why the hell do things change? If you love someone enough to actually go through with it, it doesn't make sense that love that true won't actually last. Why would someone need the wedding band and the status and the paperwork to make them want to stay with someone and obligate themself to that person. Why isn't love enough? That's my question: why isn't love ever enough?

I don't need to get married to be with someone for the rest of my life. I'm not religious in any way, will never change my name, and hate the government as is for outlawing gay marriage, so fuck them for wanting to give me any benefits anyway. All I need is to know that I love him, and he loves me. And more importantly: that we love each other enough to get through absolutely anything and to still support each other, no matter what. No matter what. If love is unconditional, you have to include the "no matter what." If love truly is unconditional, no title is needed. No paperwork. No ring. If love is real, you may want to have a huge wedding just to show the world how you've found your match -- but you certainly do not need it to make it so. I want to get married, but only for the last reason: to simply say to the world, "look at what I've found!" I don't need that title. If I love someone that much, that's all I'll ever need. And, no, I haven't been married. But I have loved. And I've seen marriages fail as well as succeed. And I think I'm still stuck at that stump: it's really just about love. That's what it's all about, isn't it?

Company!!!

"Company! Lots of company! Life is company! Love is Company! COMPANY!!!!!"

Lyrics from our opening number ring in my ears tonight as I settle down at home, just having finished rehearsal from -- you guessed it! -- the Sondheim musical Company. Of course, we didn't practice that number today; instead we did the opening for the second act, "Side by Side." My God I love that song!! Depending on my mood either that or "Being Alive" would be my favorite from the show. I really do love this show. Really. The closing number, "Being Alive," has so much wisdom and hope to it, and practically brings me to tears every time I hear it. But then "Side by Side" is so much fun to sing and perform and dance! God I love this show!

Of course I'm tired, and because I'm not a dancer, have been and still am struggling with the not-too complex dance steps we have throughout the show. Not even going into the fact that I'm not a singer first and foremost, and so sometimes I struggle with reaching the right pitch, too. BUT: this show is going to be really good -- and I'm aware that I'm a part of that melt-in-your mouth goodness. And I'm really happy about it. :-) So happy, in fact, that it's currently helping me overlook my sore throat and that impending feeling of "Shit, I think I have a fever." Damn this weather!!

So.... How's Life?

How's life? Well... For starters, this blog is in existence because of my Writing for the Web class at IUS. I for the most part hate computers, and from what I can tell, the feeling's mutual on their part. Though, I think this is something that could be healthy -- for many reasons. One, I want to market the show I'm currently in at IUS, as well as the film I'm currently surviving. Two, I can share my opinions and thoughts even more! Three, I imagine this will provide therapeutic venting as I talk about my week to an online audience. Yay, creative therapy!