I have lost you

Also: Linda Pastan was a badass

Keith took me to see Marc Maron last year and it was a phenomenal show, it was centered a lot around grief as he had lost his partner and was now workshopping his way through the tales of heartbreak, of the universally terrible reality of death. Of losing someone. Loss.

And he described how he got to a place where he could write about his grief, about her. He spoke pretty frankly about the trepidation of laughing about what death is and does and leaves. I remember moving back and forth between laughter and tears in that theater and again last night when we watched his HBO special, From Bleak to Dark. I had to stop it midway because it just got so close to me. I've been thinking about grief again. It’s on my doorstep. It’s my dad’s birthday soon and I can tell that he is restless. I mean, he probably doesn’t want to be 75, but I know he doesn’t want to be alone. He started “Silver Sneakers” senior citizens gym in his town last week. I am hopeful he will find more community. My parents were so social. Or I suppose it was my mother that was so social.

I miss her so very much. How do we keep missing all of these people? I try and say her full name at least once a week because once when I was drunk in the back of my friend’s car Macklemore’s “Glorious” was playing and I started to cry so much, like I was all soft and unrolled and it bothered me to hear the lyrics:

I heard you die twice, once when they bury you in the grave
And the second time is the last time that somebody mentions your name.

My mother was still alive that night and I was feeling pretty uncool, but I did sob like a baby. So now I just do this weird thing. I say her name to the flowers, to the post box, to the kitchen wall.

On my 2023 “out” list is my predilection to being obsessed with death and I am working hard to be above the fold, but grief just stays and stays. It’s interesting how grief comes like being horny does. Whenever it wants. Inopportune times. All the time. Grief becomes you. It’s like you absorb it into your skeleton and it is then there for always. It comes out when it wants and last night it was really wanting my attention. So, I took some time to myself this morning and fed my beast. I read some books and poetry; I wrote down a list of possible ways to bring my dad joy. I rode my bike and did this thing where I hold my hands up and imagine the sadness flowing all the way from my fingertips like water down to my feet as they peddle and then I say out loud : Fall out of me. Fall out of me.

I will do anything that works.

I am a student of grief. I am working my way to grief expert. Malcolm Gladwell got us all intrigued by his theory that it takes 10,000 hours to master a skill. I feel like I have over 43K hours already clocked.

So, remember when I was asking for volunteers to record something about heartbreak and grief? I am slowly realizing that I need to get more hours, to get other people in my brain. I want to understand grief more. Like a code I want to break or maybe I can knit a metaphorical blanket for us after? I look at it like maybe 1000 hours of conversations about grief or 1000 conversations with 1000 people about grief may work.

We have this old-fashioned phone at the studio, and it has a real answering machine, and I could use it to record another 1000 hours this year. 1000 stories of grief. 1000 humans doing human things. I am not sure. I want it to inform and influence the 1 woman show. Honestly, I don’t know why or how I do so many things. I am compelled by connection. I get these ideas when I am sleepy or when I wake up and if they keep coming back to me, I have to do them or I worry that I am not following my path. It may be some sort of compulsion. I am ok with telling you that I have a weird mind and there are cracks in it for sure. Lately like over the past couple of years I have to step on things on the ground sometimes. Like a crack in the asphalt or a piece of grass or an oil stain in a parking lot or just about anything. I keep it in check, but probably someone has noticed. But this doesn’t make me terribly bad or anything. I also have to say: All Good Things pretty often. Like when the mail comes or when I drive. I never got my transcendental meditation mantra, so I gave myself a dupe one.

TM Dupe.

And I worry about my kids a lot. Do you think it’s normal to wonder if you’re a bad mother? Or I mean, just not as good as you could be? I have never done this. It’s a continuously new experience. I don’t know what I am doing. How can anyone be an expert even after 10K hours? These kids are really complicated. I am real complicated. We are all growing up together. Forever.

I just want them to be ok.

I just want to be ok.

Are you ok?

I have a new way to announce and collect information with my sons. I put high alert info on the inside of the pantry door. They go there several times a day. I am putting a very high up treasure map to condoms and such because omg there are girls everywhere all at once now. I put affirmations and reminders. I also put apologies there too. I keep on having to apologize. I mess up a lot. I am navigating a lot by myself. Pantry message boards for the win. I buy the best snacks and stuff them in there. I say my mom’s name over the Prime sports drinks and the Baked Lay’s. I whisper sorry to my old life over Pringles and Pop Corners.

Hey, what about you meet me in zoom land on 2/22/23?

I want to kick off this GRIEF idea. We can meet & chat and I will tell you more. We will do a few creative writing prompts together. Super low key. Maybe at the end of it all we can support each other. We can make something beautiful out of all of this collective grief.

AND/OR send me yr email? HERE

Secret Studio is inviting you to a scheduled Zoom meeting.

Topic: ATS: 1000 hours Kick Off

Time: Feb 22, 2023, 08:00 PM Eastern Time (US and Canada)

Join Zoom Meeting

https://us02web.zoom.us/j/89526781037?pwd=TjZIRjdTT0JIdnR4MTBsOU5NSUdCZz09

Meeting ID: 895 2678 1037

Passcode: 901962

One tap mobile

+13052241968,,89526781037#,,,,*901962# US

+13092053325,,89526781037#,,,,*901962# US

Dial by your location

        +1 305 224 1968 US

        +1 309 205 3325 US

        +1 312 626 6799 US (Chicago)

        +1 646 558 8656 US (New York)

        +1 646 931 3860 US

        +1 301 715 8592 US (Washington DC)

        +1 719 359 4580 US

        +1 253 205 0468 US

        +1 253 215 8782 US (Tacoma)

        +1 346 248 7799 US (Houston)

        +1 360 209 5623 US

        +1 386 347 5053 US

        +1 507 473 4847 US

        +1 564 217 2000 US

        +1 669 444 9171 US

        +1 669 900 9128 US (San Jose)

        +1 689 278 1000 US

Meeting ID: 895 2678 1037

Passcode: 901962

Find your local number: https://us02web.zoom.us/u/kdiYmdCTfx

Prompts for the week of love:

Write a dirty/sexy haiku!

List out the 10 ways you want to be loved.

When did you feel sexy last?

If we could swing open your heart, describe the scene.

Grief stuff

I love my friend Allie. She lost her long-term companion pup recently and is writing a bit about grief.

I love this book. (Yes, I know I am that person)

This poem.

Ilysm, guys.

-Amy