I haven't written for eight months. Eight.
In that time, I officially reached my mid-thirties, wrote a show, celebrated a Christmas with fake moustaches, produced a show, lost a parent, mourned, and picked the wedding planning back up in the midst of aforementioned show after aforementioned mourning.
Nope. Nothing to write about. I'm really glad I understand the dullness of my existence. Sigh.
I think it's fitting that, after losing my mom, I'm in a ridiculous comedy I co-wrote where I play a superhero. This makes sense to me. I felt like one when I took care of her properly. When I could help. When I could no longer help, I didn't care if I was a hero or not. I just wanted to be there with her. No matter how I felt, there were always lots and lots of inappropriate jokes to be made. Having this come together in one tiny spandex package with tights seems right and happy.
I also am very happy to sit with my fiance and get back to wedding planning. It's a party I am seriously looking forward to, sure. But more than that, I'm looking forward to being married to him.
On Sunday, we sat down with a kickass homemade brunch (and several mimosas) and discussed the wedding.
Talking about a day surrounded by family and loved ones is a pretty wonderful chat. The idea that I'll be going through this without either of my parents is incredibly hard to fathom and also pretty easy all at once. Part of me feels that of course this is how it would be. The other part of me feels that it shouldn't happen to anyone this way.
We almost got married at her bedside, just so she could be there to see us get married. Once she lost lucidity, we decided not to. I'm grateful we didn't, as it would only remind her that she couldn't attend.
She'll be there at opening night, at the wedding and wherever else I need her. My father, too. They do that, loved ones. After they pass, you can ask for them to be somewhere and they just are. It's a request they can only fulfill after death, when you no longer ask for their physical presence. If you believe they're there, that's enough. Sometimes.
