So I am trying to stay excited about this. It has not sunk in yet. I mean, it’s next week. I am leaving next week!! Holy crap! I need to make some lists… I need to pack… I need to organize… I need to pay all my bills… I need to say goodbye to everyone just in case anyone would be offended by me forgetting. But most annoying of all, I still have to work until a day before I leave. I can’t even get excited because if I was going to, I would just walk out of here this very second. But I can see the light. I assume once I am actually driving on the NJ Turnpike… heading South… past Atlantic City somewhere… it will sink in. I am actually doing this! That next breath, that breath you take after the weight is lifted, that breath you take that empties out your lungs along with all the evil, all the sorrow, all the pain left behind. That breath! I am excited again.
Camping gear has been inventoried. I need to test the tent, check for holes, make sure all the poles are still intact. I just wish it was warmer so I don’t have to do it in my living room. A new -300 F sleeping bag has been purchased. Long johns, check. More socks and a collapsible snow shovel on their way. GoPro accessories check. Still waiting for the remote to get here. It better! Winter tire chains on their way. Still need to go food shopping for non-perishable items. Snowboard gear check. I wish I could upgrade on some items… but hey, I have acceptable things. Of course I have a long wish list, but that is nonsense. I have the necessities, and that is all I need and want. I am in good shape actually. And so, it all seems to fall into place. Nothing can stop me!
But how wrong I was right there. So many things can stop me. Here I am, at the receiving end of an international call. I look at the caller ID. I already know what to expect. F#CK! There is this apprehension, this tightening of the body. I know bad news is waiting on the other side of that call. I pick up and there it is. I can’t even cry. I am at my desk. I have been through this before. I am falling back on that experience. I will be stronger this time. I will not scream, I will not cry. I will get up, walk outside. The cold, a cigarette. Sobering. I am shivering while awaiting the call back. And it comes. We cry. But we knew it might come. I had refused to think it, while at the same time knowing it. Oh, how the mind can trick itself. It’s almost funny in that way. But I believe your thoughts do, at some level, influence the real world and, so I only wanted to hold onto the positive—to the hope, however slim, that things will be okay. And here I am. A world away, yet it seems so close. Decisions. Do I go? I want to be there, next to my brother, next to my sister. But I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to say goodbye to anyone anymore. No more. Enough is enough. When will it end? But I am wrong, as I have been before. I am not the victim. This is not something that is about me, this is not something that has happened to me. I am but a collateral of this. This is another one of those – a fact. Unchangeable. Pure in its resolute reminder that life is short. No compromise.
Can I get there in time? But someone else is making these decisions for me it seems. Weather back home is causing the airport to close, roads are closed, trains are cancelled. Maybe just an excuse. But as a day goes by, the moment has passed. It’s now too late. So I am here. Maybe it’s better this way. I am not sure I had it in me to be supportive. But then again, being in a position to help, to be the one to support someone else… that actually helps in your own healing process. But everything has this duality. And so it goes. Life doesn’t wait for you to heal. I am caught. I am here, now. I have a tough time thinking of my trip, while feeling so shitty at the same time. Hopefully some sleep and tomorrow will bring with it a new attitude, a new perspective, and renewed energy. Somehow, subconsciously, it seems my body has built some immunity to tragedy.
