Last night was my “try to forget about things and let loose for a few hours” night. L, J and I had bought tickets to see “Rock of Ages” in the city, and researched a place for dinner, timed the Bart ride from after school, packed outfits to change into from our school’s parking lot, and Yelp-ed for places to go afterwards. I was really bummed that I would miss a vigil on Carly’s hill, and wasn’t sure if I was making the right decision, but in the end I was really glad i went. It was a nice ending to a downward spiral of a week, it was something totally different for us, we had great wine and a fantastic dinner overlooking Union Square. The show was so much fun. Def recommend it for a fun night out. And then we hit up a somewhat shady karaoke bar….nice on the inside, but I think the yelling homeless people and the strong stench of urine keeps most of the crowds away. It felt good to get up on a stage and sing “Sweet Child o’ Mine” and then take a sharpie and put truth-or-dare questions on all the Jenga board pieces.
In psychology, there are different kinds of models to show how a person might deal with grief. According to the Ku(with two dots over the “u,” affecting a smiley face, which is ironic)bler-Ross model, five stages of grief might look like:
You might not experience these in this order, you can skip one, repeat a turn, etc. I’ve been wavering mostly between denial and anger about Carly’s death. But I think I’m on about Stage Four today.
I wanted to sleep in. So of course I was wide awake at eight. I made coffee and determined that my schedule for the day would consist of movies, books, and tea. In a bathrobe. There would be no face-washing, no facebook, no teeth-brushing. Just a general wallowing in misery.
I watched “Diary of a Wimpy Kid,” which was really close to home as a junior high teacher. If you ever want to remember just how horrible middle school is, this is a good one. Then I looked out the window and thought about napping. I watched the Giants, which felt like home. I watched “Burlesque,” which features horrible acting by Christina, the bad vampire from Twilight at his hottest, Cher at her most immovable face, and a parade of shoe and clothing/lingerie porn. The musical numbers were actually pretty fabulous…worth a look for some mindless flash.
I decided to go on a walk and do something out of doors for Carly today. Maybe it sounds silly, but I was a little scared for some reason to go on my normal park walk…I just kept thinking about her walking through the woods as I was walking alone on the paths. Besides a stare-down with a creepy semi-feral cat, there was no one around until I got down by the dog park. This always cheers me up. I can hear Dug from “Up” and his voice in my head, as the dogs sprawl on their backs, bellies up to each other, tongues wagging, saying “hey! hey! you’re my best friend! lets jump around!” and gazing up at their owners in adoration. It makes me a little teary sometimes. I hope to one day find a man who looks at me the same way some of these dogs were looking at their owners. That sounds weird.
And it was good to see babies in strollers, children hurling bread slices at geese, the Mexicans at their secret volleyball game way in the back, and dads being incredibly patient with their sons learning how to play catch. And to just remember that there is still joy, that it is okay to look for it and to be a part of it, even with all the sad you feel.
I put on some Jesus music in my ipod and tried to remember how to pray. It is hard when you are angry at God. And i thought about Carly, about people pouring out their love for her today in Oregon.
The night ended with girlfriends, yummy pasta, and “Pride and Prejudice.” Life always seems better with a British accent and Mr. Darcy as the last conscious thoughts I have before sleep. I’m singing at church tomorrow, and its Daylight Savings, and so I am anxious about waking up on time, wondering if I can trust my iphone to make the switch.
One of the songs I’ll be leading has the lyrics “hear our prayer, enter in.” And I pray for peace and love and some sort of understanding or faith in the circumstances around Carly’s passing. Maybe not anytime soon. But someday. Someday we can all be at stage five together. And soon enough we’ll be dancing with her again.