Friday, April 28, 2006

Forget regret, or life is yours to miss

I know, I know, AGAIN with the Rent lyrics? I'm crushed right now you guys and I think you've known me long enough to realize I'm not the DRAMA variety of queen. Remember when I wrote about my friendly neighborhood (gay) buddy who grew into a pensive (gay) teen? He died last night. I'm not looking for sympathy. It was many years ago when he followed me around as a cute, precocious gayling. It is very sad, though, to think of all the potential and fabulosity that will go unspent. He was just 16. And here I sit so many times whining about things I want but I'm too scared to go out and get. I don't give a damn if you're tired of it, just please remember there is no day but today. Do something scary today. Do something fabulous today. Me? I'm doing this, scary for some of you, fabulous for me. (And no, I'm not actually in the show).

Added: OK, so maybe I am being a bit maudlin and dramatic, but in my defense, it was just Tuesday that I did the Catholic equivalent of sitting shiva for the mother of my childhood best friend. The Jews, per usual, have it right. And more festive. The Catholics have the organized grief fest. I actually considered not going after a harrowing day at work and still suffering from the time zone lag of vacation. My friend and I had lost touch over the last ten or more years. But I did spend many wonderful summer days at his house, specifically hanging out in his mom's kitchen, just talking and laughing with my buddy and his mom. So I went and the funeral brought all that flooding back. The receiving line loomed as a gauntlet (there were all ten children plus spouses). Little did I know. I offered condolences to the husband and older children fairly unscathed (notice how this is selfishly about how I felt), and then the dam burst. Kids 5-10 are five sisters and then my old buddy. They cried, they clutched, they said how much they missed me (or the "kid" me, I guess) and they all claimed that I was always their mother's favorite. I lost my shit, guys. I think they spent more time comforting me than vice versa. Not sure if all the tears I shed were for her and them or for what was or for who fucking knows. It was worth it for me, though, to know that the little gay boy I had been was appreciated, just like I appreciated my lil' gay neighbor. I seemed to be a great comfort to my friend, too. We reminisced. Rehashed old times. Caught up on our lives. Hugged a lot. He's single, btw. 41. No girlfriends in the last ten years that I'm aware of. He's gonna call me. Funny if that VERY funeral home would be the cause of me getting play TWICE, wouldn't it? AND back to me. Or did we ever leave?

7 comments:

Jen said...

Sorry for your loss, hon.

Michael said...

Thanks, Jen. The "loss" I feel is selfish, but that really is most of what grieving is when you really look at it.

PS? And totally off topic....I did NOT know you were "Jen in AZ" on TMFT. Swear. How could I not? Because I'm an idiot. (holla HEATHERS!)

Jen said...

I guess that's why they say that funerals are for the living, right? When someone's gone, they're gone, and the aftermath is really about those of us who are left.

(I'm generally a little more, uh, reserved over at TMFT.)

Michael Guy said...

I know. I know. My first boss died three weeks ago; and I cried when I heard the news. Not because we were close--far from it. But it just seemed to be yet another sign of how close MY mortality looms ahead. He was 83. And the shrunken little tired bald-headed man I viewed was not the tyrant that used to raise the hair on the back of my young neck; I believe he was the original model for Darth Vader. But I digress.

The thing is this: None of us gets it. We're here today; gone tomorrow. And it will be in a blink of an eye. I wish I had more balls to do what it is I need to do. Or want to do. Or think I need to do. I am tired, baby--mamma is so tired. Now go sit and watch "Imitation of Life" with Lana Turner and you'll know of what I speak.

freakgirl said...

Don't feel selfish. Like Jen says, "Funerals are for the living," and I've found myself sobbing at every Catholic funeral I've attended because it's true - no one does grief like the Catholics.

Like Iyanla the Crazy says on Starting Over, "STAND IN YOUR TRUTH, bitch!"

(I added the "bitch" part myself)

freakgirl said...

Talk about selfish - I forgot to say I'm sorry for your loss.

:: slinks away ::

Jen said...

But you did say "STAND IN YOUR TRUTH, bitch!" and really, what's better than that?