5.07.2008
TRAMBLINGS...
Okay, I'm going to give this a try. We'll see what happens.
Thank you all for your kind emails. I tried to answer each and every one. If I missed you please don't hold it against me. My mind is scattered in a million pieces which is actually a natural stage of grief. In my case, anger (scorching hot lava type anger) and bewilderment are the most heavily rotated emotions. All normal from what I've heard but I'm working on it. I am managing to laugh here and there. The Crown Prince has turned into a stand-up comic and I appreciate that. Yesterday we had a belly laugh (that extended to my girlfriends via email) when we remembered an incident that occurred when we were "new to the city".
The two of us lived in a one bedroom apartment near the La Brea Tarpits when we first moved to Los Angeles. It was a four story building filled with all kinds of folks trying to "make it in L.A." One of them was a photographer named Burns. Odd cat. Seemed like a holdover from the seventies but nice enough. Well, C.P. was notorious in our building for leaving his clothes in the laundry room. One day we came home from a movie and Burns was standing out front dressed in C.P.'s clothes. He was all spit-shined and polished, looking good for a Big Date. I took one look at him and died laughing. It took C.P. a minute then he shouted out, "What the f*ck, Burns? Are those my clothes?" Burns had the good sense to be embarrassed but you could also tell that he was proud of the ensemble and didn't want to take it off. All he said was, "Come on, man, come on." He wore the clothes on his big date then returned them in a dry cleaning bag. I don't think C.P. ever wore the items again but they made me smile every time I saw them hanging in the closet. That happened over 10 years ago but we laughed like it was yesterday.
Laughing as usual helps. My sisters and I use it as a salve in our darkest moments. Not only did we lose our mother but we lost our best friend. I talked to my mom at least six times a day. At least. Sometimes it was a quick call, a fast question answered. Sometimes we'd chat for hours. And the cliche is true. I reach for the phone throughout the day to make a quick call. No one on the other end. My sisters did the same thing. So, now, we made a pact to call each other whenever we get the urge to call our mom. My phone rings in the middle of the night and I pick it up. Before all of this I would just let it ring to voicemail. Now I pick it up and if the caller says, "Tell me a funny story about mom. Quick." Then I know they are battling the same demon as me. The one that wants to replace the beautiful images we've had all our lives with the heart-stopping ones from the hospital. Well, that demon can kiss "my natural ass" (which is a mom expression). F*ck him. Seriously. And I'm assuming he's a guy but I could be wrong. Judy Coleman left too much love and happiness and funny stories for the ugliness and pain of it all to prevail.
Last week I remembered when she pulled into a gas station riding on empty. She asked for five dollars worth of gas. (I know I've told this story before but hang in there with me). The attendant threw off a little attitude and said, "That's not enough gas." She snapped back. "It's enough to get me to a cheaper gas station." So funny that lady.
And when humor doesn't help there's always music. I ended the service with Stevie Wonder's "AS" which is usually a wedding song but those lyrics... ("Until the rainbow burns the stars out in the sky -- Loving you. Until the ocean covers every mountain high -- Loving you. Until the dolphin flies and parrots live at sea -- Loving you. Until we dream of life and life becomes a dream -- Loving you. Until the day is night and night becomes the day -- Loving you. Until the trees and seas up, up and fly away -- Loving you.")... Well, you get the picture.
I made a mix that I've been playing a lot. It's random as usual but it makes me think of her. Songs she liked, songs I liked. It's playing now. Actually, "As" played three times in a row even though the IPOD is on shuffle. Hmmm.
The Songs
When the Saints Go Marching In, Helen Hume (the Louisiana influence)
As, Stevie Wonder
Free Bird (Slow Bird), Arnold McCuller (slow version of Free Bird that will give you chills)
To My Father's House, Edwin Hawkins Singers (this one makes me feel so good. By the time the tamborines come in, I am DONE. DONE. DONE. I'm right there.)
I Shall Believe, Sheryl Crow
If You're Ready, The Staple Singers
Do Watcha Wanna, Rebirth Brass Band (Louisiana again)
Joy & Pain, Maze (my daddy's favorite group)
Gravity, John Mayer
One of These Mornings, Moby
Long Road, Eddie Vedder
Tennessee Waltz, Sam Cooke
Angel From Montgomery, Bonnie Riatt
Until next time...
Okay, I'm going to give this a try. We'll see what happens.
Thank you all for your kind emails. I tried to answer each and every one. If I missed you please don't hold it against me. My mind is scattered in a million pieces which is actually a natural stage of grief. In my case, anger (scorching hot lava type anger) and bewilderment are the most heavily rotated emotions. All normal from what I've heard but I'm working on it. I am managing to laugh here and there. The Crown Prince has turned into a stand-up comic and I appreciate that. Yesterday we had a belly laugh (that extended to my girlfriends via email) when we remembered an incident that occurred when we were "new to the city".
The two of us lived in a one bedroom apartment near the La Brea Tarpits when we first moved to Los Angeles. It was a four story building filled with all kinds of folks trying to "make it in L.A." One of them was a photographer named Burns. Odd cat. Seemed like a holdover from the seventies but nice enough. Well, C.P. was notorious in our building for leaving his clothes in the laundry room. One day we came home from a movie and Burns was standing out front dressed in C.P.'s clothes. He was all spit-shined and polished, looking good for a Big Date. I took one look at him and died laughing. It took C.P. a minute then he shouted out, "What the f*ck, Burns? Are those my clothes?" Burns had the good sense to be embarrassed but you could also tell that he was proud of the ensemble and didn't want to take it off. All he said was, "Come on, man, come on." He wore the clothes on his big date then returned them in a dry cleaning bag. I don't think C.P. ever wore the items again but they made me smile every time I saw them hanging in the closet. That happened over 10 years ago but we laughed like it was yesterday.
Laughing as usual helps. My sisters and I use it as a salve in our darkest moments. Not only did we lose our mother but we lost our best friend. I talked to my mom at least six times a day. At least. Sometimes it was a quick call, a fast question answered. Sometimes we'd chat for hours. And the cliche is true. I reach for the phone throughout the day to make a quick call. No one on the other end. My sisters did the same thing. So, now, we made a pact to call each other whenever we get the urge to call our mom. My phone rings in the middle of the night and I pick it up. Before all of this I would just let it ring to voicemail. Now I pick it up and if the caller says, "Tell me a funny story about mom. Quick." Then I know they are battling the same demon as me. The one that wants to replace the beautiful images we've had all our lives with the heart-stopping ones from the hospital. Well, that demon can kiss "my natural ass" (which is a mom expression). F*ck him. Seriously. And I'm assuming he's a guy but I could be wrong. Judy Coleman left too much love and happiness and funny stories for the ugliness and pain of it all to prevail.
Last week I remembered when she pulled into a gas station riding on empty. She asked for five dollars worth of gas. (I know I've told this story before but hang in there with me). The attendant threw off a little attitude and said, "That's not enough gas." She snapped back. "It's enough to get me to a cheaper gas station." So funny that lady.
And when humor doesn't help there's always music. I ended the service with Stevie Wonder's "AS" which is usually a wedding song but those lyrics... ("Until the rainbow burns the stars out in the sky -- Loving you. Until the ocean covers every mountain high -- Loving you. Until the dolphin flies and parrots live at sea -- Loving you. Until we dream of life and life becomes a dream -- Loving you. Until the day is night and night becomes the day -- Loving you. Until the trees and seas up, up and fly away -- Loving you.")... Well, you get the picture.
I made a mix that I've been playing a lot. It's random as usual but it makes me think of her. Songs she liked, songs I liked. It's playing now. Actually, "As" played three times in a row even though the IPOD is on shuffle. Hmmm.
The Songs
When the Saints Go Marching In, Helen Hume (the Louisiana influence)
As, Stevie Wonder
Free Bird (Slow Bird), Arnold McCuller (slow version of Free Bird that will give you chills)
To My Father's House, Edwin Hawkins Singers (this one makes me feel so good. By the time the tamborines come in, I am DONE. DONE. DONE. I'm right there.)
I Shall Believe, Sheryl Crow
If You're Ready, The Staple Singers
Do Watcha Wanna, Rebirth Brass Band (Louisiana again)
Joy & Pain, Maze (my daddy's favorite group)
Gravity, John Mayer
One of These Mornings, Moby
Long Road, Eddie Vedder
Tennessee Waltz, Sam Cooke
Angel From Montgomery, Bonnie Riatt
Until next time...
