stuck

Yeah. I'm not sure if things are getting worse or if things are getting better. Ironically enough, one way to urge someone to resolve their ambivalence is to make it worse. Well, that much I have succeeded in doing.

I wake up in the morning, I drive to work. I'm at work and I don't think about this stuff too much. Or, as in most cases, I decide that I'm strictly a person that does not do the things I am contemplating, and therefore don't worry as much because I know I ultimately can't bring myself to do certain things. My guilt would kill me.

Or would it?

I come home at night and it's usually the same. Do some work, then start planning some fun. All the while, wondering how much more of this I can take. I have a feeling that either decision is not going to be the totally correct one.

The funny part is that I know what my motivations for this are, and they would sound less than mature to anyone else. But, no one lived in my shoes other than me, so no one else will get it totally. Damn, this is so something I could have talked to Anne about.

God, I miss you.

I cried more than the family. Maybe more than all of them combined. Maybe I just had the least composure. I saw her in the casket, I've knelt beside her praying. I see the Rosary Beads I gave her, blessed at The Vatican, placed gently, lovingly in her hands. My body is shaking I'm crying so hard.

I'll see you when this nightmare is over, Anne.

obituary

Bad things come in threes

Or so I thought.

Last Thursday was a rude awakening for me. I was on my lunch break when I decided to check my voicemail. First message was my parents, of course. The second was from someone I had never met named Maureen. She informed me that she was Anne's cousin and.... what? Ok, that made no sense. Play again. Damn, that was strange. That sounded like "Anne is in the hospital and not expected to make it." I thought my ears were pretty good, but that simply couldn't be. Play it again. No doubt about it. "Maureen" was telling me that Anne came down with Meningitis over Thanksgiving break and that she was in Raritan Bay Medical Center in Perth Amboy, NJ. The part about being "not expected to make it" was exactly what was said.

Fuck the lunch.

Call the number given by Maureen.

No answer. Leave message.

Hang up.

Shock.

Phone rings, it's Ebony. She confirms all of this, it was no mistake. No joke. Same Anne.

Damn.

Hang up. Call Kathy and let her know that I'd be leaving early.

Leave a message at my house letting them know.

Return to work. Settle the immediate things and I'm out 30 minutes later.

Drive home. Pack an overnight bag just in case. Directions? Check. Cell phone? Charged. Need to hurry, she might die before I get there.

Got gas after work, have keys. Go, go, go. Highway driving is cake, I easily make it to the Garden state parkway.

4:15pm Bergen County tolls. Which lane am I in? What lane do I need to be in? Look for a hole in the oncoming cars so I can change lanes. Watch. Turn, my line hasn't moved. Turn back around. Swing a right. Give it gas. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCK!!! CRUNCH!

I'm in an accident.

Meet you after the tolls? Ok. I have to get through them first.

My tire is making a lot of noise.

Pull over. This car won't be driving anywhere. Minimal damage to other car. She calls the trooper, I call Kruti to let her know I wasn't making it to the hospital anytime soon.

Anne stays on life support, but all brain tests show no neural activity. She was getting better. Wednesday she was walking and talking. Then she collapsed. Her heart was beating, yes. Her lungs were breathing. But I wouldn't call that alive. Her mom is trying to donate her organs? Did they try EVERYTHING? They mustn't have. I wasn't there to see it. Maybe they don't care like I do. There must be SOMETHING. Keep her plugged in! Miracles have happened. Saturday 10:46am, she is unplugged and declared dead. Kruti, Ebony, Lori, everyone I talked to said the same thing, but how can this be? She can't be dead. She's ALWAYS been alive. Not her. Not now.

Wake is tomorrow.

Funeral tuesday.

I just finished picking out pictures for her memorial. Some aren't getting donated. I don't want to ask her mother for them back. There are a couple I cannot part with. Do I have any of her writing or poetry? Well, I have Ninja Erin cartoons, but I don't know where they are. I also have many, many quotes. Checked them. All but one are vulgar in some way. Why send one? We all knew her.

So much for our meeting at Woodbury Commons.

So much for Avenue Q on the 19th. I still owe her $52.50 for the ticket.

The third "bad thing" could be any number of things. But, to be honest, I stopped counting at one.