how did i get here?

my husband, my beautiful Dragon, died suddenly at 12:03 AM on 9 February 2009. there was a cold, lovely full moon and 3 feet of snow on the ground. i "slept" for the following 10 months and "woke" to the physical and emotional pain and torments of deep grief. i "woke" to find i had moved the day of his funeral and that i am lost. i am looking for me while i figure out the abstract, unanswerable questions that follow behind any death. my art has evolved. his death changed that as well because i am forever changed and will forever bear the mark of losing the only man i can ever love.
there is alive and there is dead and there is a place in between. i am here wholly in my heart for my children, but i feel empty inside at this time. i miss him. i have not gotten very far in my grief journey. i make no apologies for this.
this is my place, my blog, where i write to tell the universe that i am still here.

Friday, April 30, 2010

daydreams and remembrances of the Beach Bunny that was and who she is trying to breathe life back into

i spend a lot of time alone. utterly and completely alone. i fill my own time with my work. i fill the air with movies, tv, or music. i do, upon occasion, speak out loud - to God - to my Dragon - but i am very aware that my voice is the only one in the room and more, the only one that will ever be in the room.

i remember who i once was. i was a wild and crazy Bunny who wasn't afraid of, okay, i was a afraid of a few things. i do not like mice that run at you like some crazy Hessian. i do not like jumping spiders. i am frenzied in front of a cockroach. but in the face of adventure, the wild and crazy Bunny that i was was curious, investigative, and good to go.
after my mother died and my father told me he did not want me around much, i took a trip to Cancun with a girl i worked with at the ad. agency. i was still only a designer and "wrist" - i went to those expensive lunches, said nothing, and drew up the ideas bandied about.

when we landed in Cancun, it looked like they were still clearing the runway. men were out there with machetes wacking away at the jungle that, if you stood still and watched, was actually re-growing across the hard-packed dirt of the airport. there was no customs beyond, "hi," "hola," "welcome Norte Americanos." the bus that took us to the fancy new hotels that were still being built had locals climbing up on top to make room for us. tourists with American dollars road inside the bus on seats. the locals sat on top so we would be more inclined to spend those dollars.

so the adventure starts when my friend and i wanted to eat "in town." at that time, the town was strictly for the locals but we did not know that. no one at the hotel thought we'd venture into town. no busses ran at night. way out on the peninsula where the hotels had all that the tourists could want. but we wanted "real Mexican food." we walked the beach all the way down to the road that took us to town. we should have turned around when the jungle blocked out the sky but we were committed and stupid.

we got to town. 17 buildings. the only restaurant was open and we were grateful for the open doors and lights, and the wonderful smell of food. we were the only ones in there. the people who worked there were eating. everyone froze. us. them. oh, God. when i think back on it.

let me preference this part of the story with this. my friend said the only language she took in high school and college was English. i had taken Latin. we were in Mexico. M-E-X-I-C-O.

i, of course, brought out my book of English to Spanish translations. the people were incredibly nice if somewhat confused. one of the waiters kept coming over and touching my hair. i am a blonde and when i was 21, i was still closer to the towhead of my childhood than i am now. finally the elder man whose restaurant it obviously was smacked the boy on the back and sent him to the kitchen. "Lo siento." it was his son. i took my book back out and he leaned over me as i tried to say we were sorry to interrupt. we had just wanted to be part of the local community, to see the people of Cancun. he spoke little English but got it across that he was pleased with our intent, however, his place was not an actual restaurant. he served food but it was essentially a bar and that he would be more than happy to feed us but that we needed to leave very soon as the prostitutes would come in and right behind them, the men.

we inhaled our food and got out of there as the first groups of men showed up. we held hands as we tried to find our way back. we saw what we thought was a taxi and quickly went to hire him to take us back to the hotel. neither of us wanted to walk down that dark jungle road again.

it was a barn that had been turned into the police station and, all dressed up as we were, we looked like prostitutes. when i again pulled out that magic book one of the officers realized what had happened. he spoke English. i almost fell to my knees. he kept us segregated until he could explain to his captain what we had done.

visualize this. two white girls in their early 20s, all dressed up in a barn that the horse stalls were the cells. about 5 Mexican cops were laughing their heads off at us. the English-speaking cop took us back to the hotel in the only cop car they had. his own personal pickup. he put a blanket down for us because there was drying blood in the seat from a man who was jailed and waiting for the local doctor to take the bullet out of his arm.

see? Bunny had wild adventures.

and then she met her Dragon and the best adventure of her life started.

who could resist that face? that beard? if you're a beard person, his was gorgeous. he could shave it completely off and it would be back in full in two days. his eyes danced. his arms hugged. his fingers laced so nicely into mine. such a studmuffin. there. i said it. i am 52 and i said studmuffin. to me he is. was. still is. i see men. in stores. when i am out with my daughter. nothing. not a twinge of anything. dead battery. i look at his picture and i sigh. i swoon. i smile like a teenager in love. still. right now. today.
"if two were one then surely we." see his foot? i set that up. he would lean his foot against mine under tables. we would intertwine our legs and feet when we were on the sofa together and in bed. the only time his foot wasn't touching mine was when we walked or he was driving the car. i mean, we'd trip and the car, that would be dangerous.

but then my Dragon died and all the adventure went out of me. all my joys turned to such sorrow that, even in the Spring and i put on my Bunny flower clothes, i cannot find that wild Bunny in me who thought she could solve all her adventure problems with a translation book and an innocent smile.
she is what i want to bring back to life. that girl. that person i know i am. if my Dragon gets to look down from Heaven, i want him to smile. i want him to shake his head like he did so many times when i got into a predicament. like the time the tides cut me off from shore and i was stuck out on a rock. and he had to come through the rising water and save me.

he thought i was the funniest person he'd ever met. funny in word and deed.
that is the bunny i want to find through my daydreams and recollections. i will keep my Dragon close. some of him is in that little pendant around my neck. it has the moon and stars on it. Heaven. where my Dragon is. *sob sob wail sniffle* okay, back to work.

i see the moon and the moon sees me. God bless the moon and God bless me.


AVM said...

I will be saying a prayer that you find that rediscover that adventurer inside of you. She's in there all the time.

Anonymous said...

Dearest WomanNshadows,

You are still a wild and crazy Bunny. Your are one of the most intelligent and irreverent women I have ever known. I know your husband laughed his head off at some of the things you come up with. I reminded you of a certain phone call from him during our last mission. You had him and in turn me in tears laughing. It got us through. You have your own magic. I know he was helping you realize it, but it didn't die. It just got terribly wounded by his death. You are still the woman he loves. You are still an amazing woman. You don't need to go look for her. You just need to let her rest and regroup. It's a Marine wife thing.

Semper Fi

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