An emotional event happened to me Thursday night, one that was entirely unexpected, and I had no idea that I had these feelings trapped within me for so long. It took a fragment of music to bring it all back and it was cathardic.
I was relaxing Thursday evening, having done my shopping and house hold chores, and writing out my “to do” list, then I went on the internet, checking e-mail and going over to Fram’s blog to see where his observations, his camera and his thoughts would lead him.
I was flattered that he referred to my remark about Sherlock Holmes, I too have enjoyed the Jeremy Brett series, so much so that I bought the entire DVD collection. Then I scanned down to listen to his musical selections, there was one I was not familiar with, oh I have heard of Rachmaninoff, but not all of his compositions.
But when I played “A theme of Paganini” I found my mind and heart flung back years ago to when I was in college my Senior year, and in love, estacally in love. It was a fall evening, walking along a side walk with My Love, we were passing a 2nd hand book store that was open that evening. The owner also sold recordings and was playing one over the outdoor speaker, the very theme that I was hearing now.
Suddenly my Love took my hand twirled me with ballet grace, and as the music swelled I felt like I was dancing like I had never danced before, we twirled, embraced, he lifted me up and slowly lowered me and kissed me, held me tight and whispered “I love you” I looked at him and saw a look in his eyes, a look I had never seen nor saw again, I felt I could fall into the depths of his eyes, they were filled with such emotions but they went beyond passion, I was seeing his soul and this look filled me with trembling and love, it was Love unconditional Love.
After that night we studied together, planned to get our degrees, made plans for our future together, we knew what we were going to do, it wasn’t going to be easy, we were being realistic, but we had goals and we were in love, then 6 weeks later he was killed by a drunk driver.
The days after were a fog, his parents simply came and collected his body and took him home with them, I didn’t have a chance to say good by. My room mates, especially Yoshi, Bless Them, said I had to continue on my degree was on the line, Yoshi kept saying to me to do it for him. And I did.
But now hearing that music I felt tears falling from my eyes, down my face and a pain in my chest that felt like the very bones would break, somehow the play version got onto a loop and it played over and over again, and with that music in my ears, I cried and cried and gave vent to a deep animal wailing, a grief that seemed to know no depths. Somehow I managed to turn my computer off and fell into bed crying until I was exhausted and not waking up until my alarm went off the next morning.
I didn’t want to go into work but I knew I had to, so I called and said I’d be delayed but to work I went my mind playing over and over the music and those memories.
I asked Ralph to help me saying that I had a bad night’s sleep and felt numb, sweet Ralph helped me.
When I returned home I couldn’t eat, it had rained but then stopped, I went for a walk that night along the beach, heedless of the cold, heedless that I was a woman walking alone at night, I looked out across the Bay to the hazy lights of San Francisco, but only seeing the eyes of my Love, I finally realized that I had never truly grieved for him, and the music triggered all that grief, I remembered my friends pushing me forward, when all I wanted to do was just scream to be left alone and jump into the grave with him. Life I felt was useless, but somehow they made me live. But I hadn’t grieved and now I was.
I called Yoshi early this morning.
When Yoshi heard my voice she was worried something was seriously wrong with me. I told her what happened. She told me to get dressed she would be by in an hour.
It was the best thing in the world for me to call her, Janet and Linda I knew were not available, but Yoshi was. Her husband was out of town on a business trip, so she could drop everything.
Of all places, she took me to Sunset Cemetery, many Asian families are buried there, the Fung Shui of the place was what they wanted, and the prime spots are, for the Japanese facing the Sunset towards the land of their ancestors, this cemetery has a beauty that one doesn’t find in modern cemeteries, it makes use of the natural layout of the land, the stones, creeks and trees.
She laid out a tarp then a blanket on the grass and we wrapped blankets around ourselves, we talked, and talked, tears going down both our faces, she said that it might have been wrong for them to prevent me from grieving, but they wanted me to gain what I needed, that degree, I was too close to lose it now. She said it was a test of strength, of will. But she admitted the soul always remembers.
The fact that I had encountered that particular piece of music was the trigger to release that grief and begin to heal that part of me, even if it meant scraping open the scab again to begin the healing process.
She said that after he died and we had graduated, she always felt there was a part of me that was held back, why after all these years among my male relationships I always kept it as friends, never anything deeper. I wanted to deny that but she was right, oh yes, I’ve had physical intimacy, but I never let it get any deeper and was never upset if they had met and fallen in love someone else.
Even Joe and Frank, both divorced and just friends, without the complications of sex, but we care for each other----and trust me I know they are not gay.
She said that maybe it’s time to open my heart, I said that will be a very difficult thing to do after all this time, I’m older, the world is more complicated, and I’ve made my own life as a single working woman, it would be hard now to have a man totally move into my life because I’ve made myself comfortable with it and its freedom.
She felt that even if I chose to remain a single working woman who wants to remain free, it won’t be harder to open my heart to someone who might be right for me, but each keeping our own special lives. She knows of many people doing that now a days.
She was right, and somehow I felt within myself something open up, lightness within me and I could finally feel the cold around us, like the world was coming back into my body, we spent the rest of the day together.
Yoshi wanted me to be among people and to realize that it was all in the past now, it was alright to mourn but I had to function among people. She suggested that we drive out to Stoneridge Mall (an upscale one) have lunch, we did that looked at things in the windows, people watching, talking about our days in college, we didn’t skirt around anything.
It was a good feeling, to get it out, even though there were times I felt on the verge of tears again. Yoshi said that when I get home to have again another good cry.
Later we came back into town to have dinner at our favorite Chinese Restaurant, but I wanted to stop at my house first, to get a few things and check my e-mail it was then I checked Fram’s blog and discovered he was going to end it (the blog). I felt sad, but in a way I understood, and I felt both my feelings for my Love and my Blog Friend wrap themselves together---I never personally met Fram, but I enjoyed his blogs and his comments to me.
As Yoshi and I had dinner, I told her about Fram, and the mix feelings I was now having, she said in a way it’s another sort of dying, but I realized that he had to grow, the blogging was stifling him.
I also told her that he, like my Love encouraged me to write and I did, even submitting several stories to different competitions, they were seriously considered with all the weeding, as they say a “bridesmaid but not the bride”, not a total winner. I’ve even joined a writing club, moving forward always.
Yoshi felt that was right, that what both of them have done is give me the incentive to seek goals, to move forward, I cannot drop my blogging right now, I need it as a sort of diary to see where I’m progressing, Yoshi agreed with my assessment, that for me using my blog as a diary is good and perhaps an excellent reference for more ideas.
Then it was late so she dropped me off at home.
I called Lillian asking if she wanted to get together for Brunch Sunday and I would explain to her why I had called off dinner the night before. She is a wise woman, she sensed that I was going through something; she told me “Tell me over the coffee, I’ll be all ears”.
I took out my box of photos and pulled out the one of him and me. I can’t continue to grieve over what was lost, but now I can look at him again even if I cry; I’ll look for a photo frame for our picture and put it up on the bookshelf here in my home office, I’ll see it every day and remember that I had managed to succeed in part what we had planned and continue to move forward, not back.
I still feel the tears coming, I feel them running down my face now, but the pain is not so great. I will heal, it has begun.
Kisses Sweet Things. Kisses and Tears, for what was lost, found, lost and found again.