Three Deaths

I hate everything today.

The past 2 to 3 weeks has culminated in a series of events that have put me over the edge. I am angry, restless, tired and bitter. I want destroy everything. I would say i just don’t care anymore. But it’s actually the opposite. I care so much that I just want to turn it off and make it stop.

Event #1) An old friend from high school had asked me to donate some of my hand made jewelry items to a fund raising event she was doing for her mom. Her mother had been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. She was mid chemo. The bills were too much and she needed help. So a ziti dinner with an auction was created. We talked back and forth. I did my best to give her advice to help her through the experience. I donated a bunch of items and sent gifts for both her and her mother to keep. I followed up with her often to see how her mom was holding up. Her Mom didn’t make it through treatment and passed away. I missed the wake due to an event I was suppose to be vending at. I wasn’t part of the process or anything but it still saddened me to hear. I still haven’t reached out to my friend privately.

Event #2) A few days later Robin Williams killed himself. Normally celebrity deaths don’t mean much to me. Usually an Oh really, that’s too bad. Then life goes on. This one struck me. When I was a kid growing up, my mom was a bipolar (manic) depressive. It was a struggle. She was a wreck more often then not. I was a big fan of escapism. I watched tv, hid out up in my room. I lost myself in music and comedy. Especially stand up comedy. Even from about age 7 my Mom would allow to watch things that were rated R. Robin Williams was my very favorite.I use to do his routines on the playground. He was very public about his manic episodes. It gave me hope. He gave me hope. His loss felt unreal and tremendous. Someone I so looked up to had just thrown in the towel. What the fuck man. I feel stupid even saying it. I felt stupid for mourning it. I never thought I could be so effected by someone I did not know personally. But I was and still am. It was like losing a hero. I don’t know why I said like – it WAS losing a hero.

Event #3) Back in June two of my cousins graduated from college. We had a picnic to celebrate. Their maternal grandmother was there. She was at many of our family events. Even though their Mom and Dad had divorced Grama Jane always came to our events and stayed close with my uncle. She always felt like her daughter had wronged him.Their relationship stayed in tact despite the divorce. At this picnic she asked me questions about my Cancer, chemo and radiation. She told me she was sick. She hadn’t told anyone else yet, and wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She said it made just make her daughters fight. That she didn’t think those treatments would be options for her. If I were her, and I thought I could pass away, what would I do? I thought for a few minutes and gave her my most honest answers. I said in my experience, sometimes people fear what they don’t understand. When you say I am sick, or I have Cancer, sometimes people retreat. They think about their own mortality and freak out. On a few occasions you will find wonderful folks who do think of you first. I told her she should go out and live. Do all the things she wants to do with her time left. Celebrate every minute. And FIGHT! Fight like a mother fucker. Don’t take no as an answer. Look into other doctors. Other therapies. But as far as telling her family, kids, etc. I told her that is her choice. If she thinks it will give her more grief then good, then go out the way SHE wanted to. She told me there was a will, that she just didn’t know where it was. That she planned on spending her last days doing all the legalities. I told her if that isn’t how she wanted it to end, don’t do it that way. Please go and enjoy every moment you have left. I literally said let someone else deal with that. Just take care of yourself and live.

I have serious guilt over what I said. I didn’t tell anyone what I knew at her request. Even though the whole way home I thought to myself, I should call my Uncle and tell him. I didn’t. I rationalized it as it’s her choice, not mine.

On Monday of last week my cousins called me from the airport in NYC saying they were stuck there. They flew in with no plan. It was 6 am. I happened to wake up and see the message. I scrambled to get some cash together, fought with The Smoker to wake up and drive. We zoomed through commuter traffic, picked them up and brought them to the hospital. Five hours later Grama Jane died. 

I was the only one from my mothers side of the family besides my cousins that showed up to her memorial service. My heart was heavy. I quickly learned that NO ONE knew she was that sick. NO ONE. Except me. A week ago she told everyone she had a few weeks left, then it became she has 72 hours left. Then she was just gone. She never got the Will or insurance stuff together. No one knew why she was so stubborn and didn’t say or do anything more then she did…. I knew why.

Yesterday I had a dinner for my family. An impromptu goodbye party for my cousins. Low key and fun. Pizza, wine, video games for the kids. More people then i expected showed up. My cousin Dan started talking about her Grama’s passing. I started to tell her that she was asking me about Cancer therapies back at the end of June. I didn’t tell her the full extent of the conversation. Just made mention. She burst into tears and said that she was so angry. I panicked. I don’t know why i had even opened my mouth so soon after the passing of G.J.. Dan said why was she so stubborn! That means she knew she was sick! She fucking knew and she didn’t tell anybody! I would have come home sooner! I would have spent more time with her! I am so mad at her! I immediately shut my mouth. Saying more would have only caused her more pain. I apologized over and over.

Dan left last night. Today I have spent all day with my heart heavier then ever. I have such guilt. Guilt for not speaking up as soon as I knew. Guilt for still being alive. Guilt for surviving. Guilt for not doing more for Grama Jane. I had her contact info. I should have called or emailed SOMETHING to check in!

All of these events have just rocked me. I am a grumpy angry mess. And I hate myself even more for knowing how much pain my cousins are in and that I could have eased it. Instead I made it worse. 

Ever since my own Cancer, I have felt like this weird messenger to other Cancer patients. I meet people and they tell me their secrets. They cry. In many cases I have never even met them before. I think getting to the brink of death and coming back sends people a message. Other Cancer patients and survivors maybe sometimes need that. But when they don’t survive. When they aren’t here anymore it fucking devistates me. All I can think is why am I still here and you aren’t. 

I can’t even talk about it anymore.