So yeah, I called my mother. And I couldn't call my sister.
And then radiantlisa on Blogger posted about hitting a wall some three weeks after Jay Lake died. I felt the need to respond, and thought to share it here.
Dr. Phil (Physics)June 22, 2014 at 1:40 PMCancer has taken several people I knew online or knew of online recently. And I know several working on eradicating cancer from their body. There is no right time to get cancer or die from cancer. But just shy of your 55th birthday or your 50th birthday or just hours after your sixth birthday, well, as my mother would say, "A parent shouldn't have to bury a child."
When my sister died unexpectedly a couple of years ago, of a metastasized uterine cancer she never knew she had -- decades of no health insurance -- I drove down to Atlanta twice to get her affairs in order. Both times her friends assisted and it was a bittersweet yet joyous occasion to disassemble a life and share memories. But before starting with her apartment and later her storage locker, I had time by myself amongst her things.
It was strange to see her place ended in mid stream. To see things I remembered over fifty years.
It would have been unbearable except Wendy had done so much charity work, we were able to sort and donate things. I thought of keeping her guitar, but I don't play, and a friend had a daughter who needed a guitar. I did keep her and her late husband's camera gear and photos, so much of which I had assisted with years ago.
But it was hard. It had to be done fast. And when it was done there was a huge hole.
I still find things I want to email her or call her about. Alas...
People will tell you that life goes on. Of course it does, that's not the point! There will always be storms of emotions. Weather them as best you can. Just know that anything you sell or give away will no doubt give someone pleasure and life and memories, whether they knew Jay (or Wendy) or not. There is no one right answer. The hole in the garage will be just as hard as seeing the Genre car.
But this isn't about cancer, or even death. It's about any of the holes that interrupt our lives.
And going on.