I am dreading tomorrow. I hate the 4th of July, it is my least favorite re-occurring event. I do not have any positive memories associated with this particular "holiday". I am always reminded of death & loss & waste.
My grandmother died 11 years ago today. She is the only person i have been really close to that has passed away. She had colon cancer & got to wear a neat little bag on her hip to collect waste. We didn't want her to suffer the indignity of dying in a nursing home, so she came to live with us.
Flashback 1994: My grandma came over everyday to keep an eye on my younger brother & i. Almost every morning that summer, Pam would walk over & we would have bagels & cream cheese, coffee & OJ & discuss our plans for the day (which usually consisted of what boys we would try to "accidentally" run in to). That was the summer before my freshman year of high school. (I didn't kiss a boy open-mouthed until Casimir Pulaski day later that year) I "became a woman" that summer (i was a late bloomer). Anyways, Pam & I would sit down with my grandma & she would tell us stories about the Depression, and what life was like for her as a little girl. She also yelled at us a lot. She was sort of scary for a short, chubby Romanian woman. But we loved her yelling at us. It meant she cared. And when Pam & i would take too long to get our asses in gear she'd demand that Pam went home immediately to shower & would make me go upstairs to bathe as well.
Back to '96: We had a hospital bed set up in our family room. A nice black woman named Mildred from the VNA would come everyday. My grandma would make me give her cigarettes, at the time i think i was smoking Marlboro Medium 100s (the day of my grandma's funeral i had a pack of Honey Bees).
I was dating my first serious boyfriend, Andy at that time & had recently "become a woman" in a different sense. One time he was over and my grandmother could not get up off the commode. Without a second thought or look of disgust he went in to the bathroom and helped her back to bed. A few weeks later, the day after The Flood, while we were sleeping on the living room floor of Kim's house with about ten other people, he told me he loved me. I remember looking at the green digital numbers on the VCR and thinking i would remember the exact time we said "i love you" for all eternity. However, I don't remember & haven't really thought about it until now.
Back to July 3rd - I didn't want to go out that night because i knew she was going to die soon. My mother insisted i go, saying that there was no point in sitting around. Both of my brothers were spending the night at friend's houses. I came home around 10 or so and gave her a kiss goodnight. She has stopped talking the day before, but i saw that she heard me. I went to bed & prayed for her to die. A little after 3am my mother came in to my room & told me she died. My Aunt came over & we walked around the subdivision smoking cigarettes until after the funeral home was done retrieving The Body. We returned to a pot of coffee & an empty hospital bed that still showed the imprint of her form. The dog began pacing around the room, put his paws up on the bed, came into the kitchen where we were sitting and began to cry. My dog loved her more than just about anyone & his pitiful canine cries punctuated the story.
There really isn't much more to say about it. When you're dead, it's over.
My grandmother's death isn't why i don't like the 4th, it was incidental. Fireworks make me cry. I spent too many years watching the fireworks, trying to hold back tears because i am not where i want to be. I remember standing on the New York Street bridge in 2002 & thinking about jumping off. I remember getting chigger bites in 1997 from lying on the grass in McCullough park with a boyfriend who always made me cry. I remember standing on the bridge over the pond in my subdivision in 1994 next to the boy i was in love with wishing he would love me too. I remember losing my cell phone in the lawn of Daleiden Mortuary while twirling around under the sprinklers at 2am in 2003.
I don't know what i am going to do tomorrow. I know what i am expected to do; attend an in-law family gathering & pretend that life is swell. I don't know if i can do it. Maybe i'll take lots of benadryl & try to sleep through the day because i don't know how to face it.
It sounds worse than it is. If tomorrow wasn't the 4th of July i would be fine, but something about the fireworks & the way the colors reflect on people's faces as they stare up into the sky makes me feel so fucking lost.
