two janes and a june

"Is that some new form of poker with a nontraditional deck?"

Hahahaha! Good one... but, nope! That describes the company I kept tonight.

"Okay, a riddle! Let's see, I know this was Monday, so that's been meaning Music Bingo of late. But the bingo caller is named Jade, not Jane. Isn't that right?"

Absolutely right that her name is Jade. Absolutely wrong, though, on my being at Midtown Sports Grill this evening. Want to try again?

"Hmm... maybe not. This will go a bit faster if you just tell me."

Spoilsport. Fine. I will tell you. I blew off Bingo for the 5-buck "Mystery" at NCG. All I knew was that it was rated PG-13 and a running time of 103 minutes. That meant it wasn't in the horror genre, so that was good enough for me. It turned out to be "Eleanor The Great" and was fabulous, even though it did have me in tears a time or two. That's because the topic was grief over a friend's death, so it had me thinking again of Christa and Barbara and Mister Willie.

"2023 and 2024 have seen some tough losses of friends and family." 

For sure. In that movie tonight, June Squibb played 'Eleanor', a 94-year-old forced to move from Miami back to New York City after the death of her best friend, 'Bessie'. Back in the Big Apple, 'Eleanor' goes to the Jewish Community Center for a class, to appease her daughter, but ends up in a support group for Holocaust survivors... where she shares the many stories from the life of 'Bessie', who was a Holocaust survivor. Later, 'Eleanor' decides to get the Bat Mitzvah she never had and the rabbi assigns her the story of Jacob and Esau. No coincidences, right?

"Wow. That must have gotten some wheels turning in her mind."

Oh, yes. She and the Rabbi had quite a little discussion about deceit and consequences. And do you know how it was that she was assigned that story from the Bible? It all had to do with the date for her Bat Mitzvah. So, the Universe set that up for her. Just like the Universe set me up with a cool odometer reading! Not a palindrome, but a mileage that might have had a pattern: 243024, which could be taken as 24-30-24, or two pair in poker.

"LOL! Yes, dear. So, I take it that the movie had your 'June'. So, where were the others mentioned in your post title?"

Well, that would be Jane Krakowski, the host of "Name That Tune", plus Jane Lynch, the host of "The Weakest Link". The first 'Jane' will be 57 years old next month; the second 'Jane' is already 65 years old, like my brother Smitty, having her birthday just five days after his. I had recorded both shows tonight, as they had a different theme than usual. The first one had two celebrities from "Modern Family" playing for charity; I hadn't watched that show when it was new, but it used to follow the "Two And A Half Men" reruns, so sometimes I tuned in. However, it was the gimmick used for "The Weakest Link" that really got my attention! It reunited Lynch with eight of her castmates from "Glee". Let me state that I didn't regularly watch that show, either, but I had seen a handful of the episodes and was curious to see how the teen actors turned out a decade later.

"I see. And the consensus is...?"

Well, here's the thing: not a single one of those actors was a teen in 2009 when "Glee" began. Not one. They were almost all born in 1986, making them 23-year-olds playing teens. So, now, they're almost all 40-year-olds. It's akin to "The Breakfast Club", in which only Molly Ringwald and Anthony Michael Hall were actually teens (they were both 17) playing high school seniors. The other four in that ensemble were 23 and older.

"Well, that's the magic of Hollywood, dear. A little makeup can make up for the years."

Heard. That's the beauty of youTube in a way. There are so many candid videos there, with the people not prettied up, just as they are. Take this one from my first year of teaching full-time at Armstrong. I was the only one in the Chemistry & Physics Department that participated in the Common Read program. That's because I knew all of my students had to read "Waddie Welcome And The Beloved Community", so I did, too. Set right here in Savannah, it followed the story of a man with physical disabilities and his quest to live with family.

"Oh, my!!! I remember doing that video!" 

I was having a discussion with Tom Kohler and Susan... somebody, who were both promoting the book. After talking with me, they asked if they could record me saying what I'd said. Of course I said they could! That was September 6, 2010. Hard to believe that was fifteen years ago.

"I love the title attached to that video: "I Teach The Future". Very cool!"

Very incomplete and out of context. Those were simply the first four words I spoke after giving my name and status at the university. "I teach the future nurses, and respiratory techs, and physical therapists, and dental hygienists, who service the community, who service all of us in the community." That's what the entire line was.

"I still like that title the book folks gave the clip. I also noticed that you mentioned the youth group at Asbury Memorial, as well as the man with spina bifida who attended. What was his name?"

Ron. All I remember is his first name. He moved away and I haven't heard anyone speak of him in probably a decade. Recently, though, I keep thinking about him. I know that's because my first niece is dating a man with spina bifida. Anthony Brooks is her age. I don't recall how old Ron was, but I feel like he was probably in his early 40's, too, like them. Like Ron, Anthony also walks awkwardly and uses a cane. Actually, it isn't walking so much as it is lurching. I have to wonder if it's as painful as it looks like it would be.

"Well, perhaps you should ask him the next time you see him. I imagine the girls have all already done that."

You're likely right. Yes, I'll do that. Now, time to wind down. 'night, dear. 

 

11 september

I did go see the documentary at Muse Arts Warehouse, joined by a friend. I had questioned the host to ensure no media-frenzy pictures would be present and he assured me the film was free of such crassness. So, I stayed. And, even though I cried through almost all of it, I must attest to its truth about grief: everyone has a different way to deal with the stages and everyone has their own pace. Overall, I would recommend it for counselors everywhere as a helpful tool to show those grieving that there is more than one way to work through the pain of loss.
Truly, time is the most healing factor, provided the griever is able to give themselves permission to stop grieving. That last part is hard: to finally reach a point where you have to forgive yourself for not being there at the right time or not doing a particular thing or not saying the right words. To forgive yourself is to acknowledge your own mortality and faults. To forgive yourself and accept the loss is to give yourself permission to live again.
Afterwards, I went to my beloved beach, shedding the dress I wore and revealing the swimsuit beneath. The northern beach was lovely, sparsely populated, with a sky featuring one lone rainbow kite fluttering its tail. I walked along the shore, in and out of the surf, until I reached the rocks at the end. I sat a while in the deserted lifeguard stand, closing my eyes and letting the words of the great ocean fill my mind with reassurances and calm, then walked back down the shoreline, collecting two broken shells along my journey. Such peace!
Eventually, I returned to my Saturn, duly waiting where I had left her. I returned a call to a dear friend and we dined together, enjoying each other's company, with no talk of the day's date. Upon my return home, I called my dear cousin and told her of my day and she sent love and love and love along the telephone line into my ears and into my mind and around my heart.
She's always had a knack for that very thing...

anniverary

Yesterday marked the one-year anniversary of the loss of my fifteen-year marriage. Rough day. I truly could have been happier freezing on the beach rather than being in a quasi-warm house, but I was so wrapped up in my pity party that the thought of going to my refuge didn't occur to me. Not that I stayed home all day. Oh, no, I did, indeed, venture out not once, but thrice yesterday.

I first went to the church I have been attending since April of 2004. Getting ready for church is when I first noticed the day's date: December 21. Last year, it was a Friday, so I wasn't truly prepared for it this year. I was running late, so I didn't dwell on the significance of the date, just wrote the check, grabbed the gifts for the designated Christmas charity, and sped off to church. I arrived just as the minister was beginning his sermon, so I gave the bags of gifts to the church rover and hurried in to find a seat. While listening to the sermon, I decided to step out after the offering, as I had several errands to run before a holiday open house that afternoon. And so I did, leaving and riding out to the cemetery (my Mama's grave). The weather had chilled greatly, so, instead of going to the grocery store (a task already put off all the previous week), I returned home and had a bowl of soup, then set about wrapping more presents for the family gathering to be held on Christmas Eve. Still okay, mostly.

My second outing was to my Weight Watchers meeting... and that's where things went seriously awry. The scale put me at +10.2 pounds. I was prepared for a gain, as I've been badly constipated for the past five days (same as last year AT THIS SAME TIME, as if my body was rerunning a particularly bad program for me). Even knowing that most of that weight would soon be flushed from my body did nothing to soothe me. Rattled, I went in to the meeting room and sat down, late again. The meeting was about food and emotion, of all things. I started to cry and just couldn't stop. Could NOT stop. Wanted to, but could not. So I excused myself and went out to my car, letting all the frustration rush out of me, so I could regain control and get back home. Total disaster.

My counselor last year had said that when feelings of grief wash over me, I should let the flood occur, just go ahead and get it out of my system. Keeping all that torrential energy pent up would be a danger to my health. What truth is in that simple advice.

And, following that prescription enabled me to have a good time at my third outing of the day: the church Christmas party. Of course, it helped that I was amongst folks I knew, all with hugs of greeting, most oblivious to the meaning the day held for me. What a relief to be able to be with people who did NOT know me so well, who did NOT ask me how the day had treated me. Sometimes, acquaintances can be more reassuring than friends, allowing you to be experiencing just another day, much like any other day.

Breathe, dear one, just breathe.