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I am on Sonata. Which is like Ambien, but stranger. Ambien gave me a sort of drifty, peaceful, deep sleep, with gentle hallucinations before hand. Sonata gives me four solid hours of sleep, with CRAZY stoned-tired and hallucinations before hand. Plus tunnel vision, so I can only see one word at once with my eyes as I scan across the page.
Knowing that-
I'm leaving for the funeral tomorrow. My parents are coming, probably at around 7, to take me and my sister to the airport motel for the night, so we can hop on the early flight to SF. The funeral's at five, and if I know David's wife Michelle, and his sister Jill, and her husband Chris, the kids are gonna want do drink. So if there's any productive cathartic David-memory drinking, I'll do that. It might be nice, to hang with David's friends, to get it out of my system. I dread my parents and my sister, though dread's not the right word.
I'm worried for my dad, and worried because the only time I ever saw him cry was when we watched "Groundhog Day," and he's delivering a eulogy. David was like a son to him, and also the only male descendant of our line. So now Dad's last. Again. I want to take care of my father but I don't know how, and I'm bad with seeing my parents mortal anyway, plus I'll bet there's depths of family intimacy that should NOT be plumbed, inner personal weaknesses that just shouldn't be passed from father to daughter. STill, I want to take care of him. For him to know I'm there, and how much I love him. And David.
THat will be hard, because Lizzie will also be there, demanding of our time, our attention. At times like these my sister and my father like to talk about Family. What family means to us. What our family IS. We consider family Therapy. We consider family meetings, family rules. We discuss the responsibilites that come with the job.
Dude -- have your parents ever sat you down and said, "let's figure out what the notion of 'family' means to us?"
This is verbatim. My entire childhood. Still hasn't stopped.
See the problem. And with the funeral bringing the questions of mortality and love and loyalty and family to the fore (at least, as far as Lizzie and dad are concerned), they're going to want a family meeting. Family therapy. To discuss hte notion of family, and also life is precious.
And the problem again is, it's a funeral. It's my father and my sister. I want to take CARE of them, have them deal with their grief in the best way they can. Be there for them.
Whereas for me, family therapy is the last thing I need to help me deal with my grief. I love David. So much. I'd like to take a little time for me and him, or even just for him, for me to get the chance to remember him as a person.
But, see above, family is everything, and Aunt Lee lost a son, so I'm not gonna be more than a foot away from my dad for the whole thing.
Then Saturday night, we see.
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At times like these, we need a campfire and a drum circle.
In conclusion, I'll be back Sunday morning. Not sure when. My fear of flying pales beside my fear of my father at a funeral.