Coming into the week last week I was about as sour as a person could be. All piss and vinegar and working on a means to shift gears. Depression is like a giant knotted cord of Christmas lights. You can plug it in and see the potential but need to slowly work your way through it one knot at a time, checking one bulb at a time, and harnessing all the patience in the world, but eventually you’ll get there and yeah it might be blinking and maybe you don’t want it to blink but at least your not a knotted ball of anxiety.
So I began the week unknotting my little tangled string of lights. At least it was only going to be a four day week. Sweet. Except that I had enough work for seven with my day job and another five of the after hours work like this blog, the Five Boro, amongst the other things I need to get off my plate on any given week. But the funny thing is you don’t really have a choice in the matter so you press on. One little knot at a time.
A week earlier I received an e-mail from the 212NYC Organization, this is a group who fosters learning and growth in the advertising community. They had informed me that the proceeds of their annual Gala was going to be donated to The LIPF. Sweet. Things were looking up and quite frankly no matter how bad a week I am having I am thankful for this Foundation and this blog because it provides me a sanctuary where I can retreat to and know that any time I pick up the pen or open an e-mail we are doing something that might get us one step closer to helping somebody else out.
So I took some time out and I began to craft a discussion for the night. This year I was going to invite our friends from JWT and NAMI to talk about all the great work they are doing.
The night of the event was stellar. I was hauling ass trying to wrap up work stuff while I walked about my apartment practicing my speech. Revising and timing, adding, cutting, imagining what people are thinking, “Will they laugh where I put the laughs? Am I being to dorky?” Stick to the facts, show some personality, not that much. Screw it, I’ll be me.
Traffic the whole way to the event had me thinking great I am going to miss this thing, but things worked out and everybody looked just stunning. The MC of the night managed to pull a couple jokes about me right before he called me up to the stage, which was classic since he didn’t know who I was yet and when he called my name out you could see his gaff.
Everything went off without a hitch and when I couldn’t think things were getting any better, Craig the MC asked me to remain on stage and pledged an additional donation amount as well as an offer to anybody in the crowd to make a pledge and he would take them on a tour of his radio show with Boomer. I was floored when nearly every table raised their hand.
That feeling is humbling, when you look into a room of your colleagues and see all the support.
It was a good night and my little rain cloud was temporarily blown away. The next morning was a little rough around the edges as these things tend to be after a big night like that. Meetings to meetings to meetings and before I know it I was walking in my door on Saturday.
A beautiful day the first time it appeared that Winter and all this gray dirty snow might dissipate. When I looked at my phone it occurred to me that it was my Mom’s birthday. So I sat for much of the day thinking about that and just appreciating the time I did have with her. And the sour got a little sweet again. The next day was much the same spending time with friends and with every smile I tried to make a note to myself that this is what it is about.
I woke up this morning as I tend to do on Monday’s at 5:15 and all I wanted more than anything in the world was to call my Mom and brother and talk to them. I imagined what the call would have gone like, what they might be telling me. All the while I am looking at the pictures, and one painting next to my bed of David, my Mom, and my Grandfather. As the conversation played out in my mind that little pit opened up a bit and I embraced the sour, I recognized the sadness and the missing pieces that have been taken from me and as I tore myself out of bed. I’ve got the right to be a little pissed for not having what many of us take for granted until it’s too late.
I looked up and shivered a bit as I walked out the door to the gym, realizing I was about half a layer too light on the clothing. And I smiled to myself and decided that’s how it’s gonna be today. A little sweet a little sour and that’s fine by me.
