As I sat down to write, it was hard for me to switch gears from gravitas to silliness. Yesterday’s elegy to Nora Ephron left me in a heap on my bed. I realized there has been quite a bit of loss in my life as of late.
The little girl upstairs is moving out. I’ve written about her – she’s the one who moves furniture at 3 a.m. and occasionally thinks my door is hers when she’s had one too many cosmopolitans. You’re probably thinking I should celebrate her departure but despite the ongoing antics I’ve really grown to like her. She reminded me of a fawn in 4 inch heels navigating in the big city. I used to follow her up a flight to make sure she didn’t topple over like an unsteady lamppost. Now we have the nervous vigil to see who will be up there next, always a scary prospect.
My favorite priest at St. Thomas More has retired. He was my last shred of attachment to the Catholic Church, someone I like and respect so, so much. He said I could write to him which took some of the forlornness away but I’m still grieving due to the more than likely probability of never seeing him again.
I think back of all the things that have happened in my life that brought me incredible pain that somehow I managed to recover from. When Bill Hicks died for instance that was a bullet I sincerely thought I’d never heal from, yet 18 plus years later I can now unemotionally write about him in all his Texan glory.
We’re designed to heal, there’s no question. Our hearts may be held together by glue and epoxy but they seem to always rise up like wounded soldiers from the field.
I just watched a film called The Upside of Anger and there’s a poignant scene when the two leads are in his kitchen sharing a pint of ice-cream. After Denny (Kevin Costner) declares himself to Teri (Joan Allen) she says, “I’ve had my heart broken Denny and I don’t know if it’s ever gonna heal.”
Denny says, “Sure it will, just a little funny that’s all, like it might have a limp.”
I loved that because it’s true. In life we take dramatic hits yet miraculously live through them. Are we changed because of them; just a little sadder? Absolutely, but we’re made to love and carry on no matter what befalls us.
All things pass, good and bad, happy and sad so I know this stroll through the valley will end and I’ll find myself in a beautiful clearing once again.
I was thinking of writing the girl upstairs a short farewell note.
It’s been really great being your neighbor these past three years. I wish you all the best but I was thinking, in the future when you go out drinking with your girlfriends, could you please consider wearing flats?
Take good care,