spinning
I'm trying to wrap my head around my week.
It was so wonderful to have a week off from work and I'm thinking of looking into a temp agency. I'm just so sick of waiting on tables that it HURTS to think about going back. Also I have to study the new menu. YUCK.
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Last weekend I went to LI to visit Mike. Then monday I came back into the city, to my apartment, got my brothers birthday presents(a small statue of ganesha, the multi armed, elephant headed diety regarded as the remover of all obstacles. it was made in tibet. and a Barack Obama for President T-shirt) then headed to the 125th train. My mother couldn't pick me up because Scott was spending the night at her place and there would be no room for me, so I went all the way to the end of the line and my grandmother picked me up at midnight. My aunt(my moms sister) had also come up for scotts birthday, all the way up to Connecticut from North Carolina.
The following day my grandpa, grandma, aunt joann and I all headed over to my grandma's brother, peter's house that he shares with his long-time partner, Evan. My uncles live on a mountain and driving through the farmland to get there and seeing all the foliage was just amazing. It was great to see the two of them, I love them more and more the older I get. I feel like we've gotten closer also because as I've gotten older, growing up in the theater community I get that they are gay(they have never officially come out to the family, but we all know, its not something they have ever hidden) and accept it and embrace it and we giggle and joke and have a blast. I get the feeling that if I had been young when they were that we would all have been fantastic friends.
Anyway, they live in this GORGEOUS 2 story home on a mountain in CT that is incredibly furnished; they used to run an antiques business together. Scott and my mom came about a half hour after we'd gotten there and I'd filled them in that I am auditioning again and loving the city life. He was surprised to see me, as we hadn't seen each other since Dad's service, and even more surprised to see aunt jo-ann.
Before I go any farther, in case you don't know my brother has a history of drug and alcohol abuse(he's not currently using) and is both bi-polar and schitzophrenic. These conditions were not caused by the substance abuse but that certainly didn't help it.
We were all sitting in the living room, snacking on brie and crackers, talking about the election and things like that and I was so impressed by how intellegently Scott was taking about it. He was so...all there, everything he was saying making sense, making valid controbutions to the discussion.
Then we moved into the dining room for a late thanksgiving themed lunch. Thats when Scott started to get weird. He kept talking about how the Rockafellers left him money in wills that he's to inherit and that some landlord came up to him on the street and told him that on his 26th birthday(which is what this birthday was) he was to inherit Rockafeller Center. The way he said it sometimes almost sounded like he was thinking "i know you think I'm crazy, now what do you think of THIS!" but when we chuckled with him or told him that it was all ridiculous he would get upset and accuse us of hiding things from him. He gets especially mad at my mom. When my uncle Evan brought out the cake, Scott started cutting it slower than one might think possible. Evan then asked me if I could dole out the rest of the slices and Scott snapped at him. Which really upset me because Evan is one of the sweetest men on the face of this earth.
There was also a weird moment when we were talking about something(can't remember what) that reminded me of my father, so I made a little joke about him/it. Not at his expense and certainly not a joke about him being gone but everyone got a little uncomfortable. It was as if now that he's gone I can't talk about him as I would have before. He is still him. He is and was the same man and would not be mad to have had a joke made in his direction, in fact, i'm sure he would have laughed along with me. Peoples additudes about this sort of thing confuse me. I'm not going to stop mentioning him or joking about him or sharing stories about him.
We headed back into the living room to shower him with gifts. I mean, I'm not going to get that many presents for my next 26 birthdays put together. I understand the logic my mother and grandmother had behind it though...they feel that he has so little in his life the least they can do is get him some stuff. Scott is strange about things like that because at times he's so anti-materialistic and then the next second its gimme gimme gimme gimme. He was like a child on christmas, in the worst way possible.
-Rip open a present.
-throw the wrapping paper at me- because if I wasn't collecting the paper in a garbage bag he would have made a huge mess.
-look at the present go oh thanks its a _____
-if it was a gift certificate not thank the person until he feverishly looked all over the card to see how much it was worth and announce it to the room and say just how much he thinks he could get with that "oh i could get like a magazine"
-grab at the next
frustratingly unthankful. He doesn't know any better? He seemed somewhat grateful but still didn't even realize how nice it was that everyone came together like that for him. As the day progressed he began looking off into space more as if he was a million miles away, or REALLY focused on someone who had something to say who was about 40 feet behind the farthest person in the room. And he was doing that THING where he laughs when there is nothing to be laughed at. My mom, scott and I stopped back at my moms place before bringing me to the train and Scott was mumbling to himself, laughing, and doing this weird whispering hissing type nose that was like something out of a horror movie. I asked him what that was and why he sounded like something out of friday the 13th and he said something weird like "i have to get the all the noise out before...." then trailed off mumbling and laughing to himself. The whole ride from my moms to the train he kept laughing to himself and when I asked him what was funny he first said he was thinking about something funny that had happened at peter and evens. Each time after that he said he got defensive and mean and sometimes said he was STILL thinking about that thing that happened or he just was like nothing, or denied it all together.
My mom dropped me off at the station I used to get off and on at when I was still at school and still with Wayne. Its strange how that whole train line will always make me think of him and remember the feeling of traveling out to visit him. I remember it not longingly, but fondly. We were young and in love and silly and stupid. Puppy love. We wanted completely different things but at that time each other was okay, until we realized that each other was not, in the end what we wanted for our lives. He is such a wonderful thing to have in my life, a reflection of the best parts of my past. Someone who has known me forever, and because of that, knows me in a way that so many people don't. But, he is in no way a threat to my future love life, as ex's can be, because that part of us is so far removed, and we are now completely in love in such deeper and different ways(not to discount what we had, of course) with different people who are so much more right for us. Going upstate makes me miss his friendship.
On the way back I saw this guy, Adam, who was a few classes ahead of me in high school. His brother was in my grade. He is openly gay and working as a hairdresser, but going to school to be an aviation engineer. It was interesting to talk to someone who had a very similar experience as far as our surroundings growing up, but we barely knew each other at the time.
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That night I went back into the city, grabbed some sheet music and clothes then headed back to long island. The following day I had a voice lesson with the new teacher at FTC, Mindy.
IT FELT SO GOOD TO SING WITH A TEACHER AGAIN.
oh my goooood. to be guided and taught and helped. it was WONDERFUL. She helped me do things with my voice I hadn't done in a year. My mix isn't gone! oh it was glorious to know my talent hasn't fallen by the wayside. We prepared me for my audition for Fiddler on the Roof because though I was typed out of the open call, something about my submission caught their eye and they called me in. I wanted it to be good because even if I wasn't right for the show I got a chance to sing for Dave Clemmins who is a pretty big casting director for theater.
I rode back into the city with Mike on Thursday when he was going in to meet with a recording studio on the lower east side about an internship(which he got! yay!) for the audition Friday morning.
I got to the audition about a half hour earlier than my slot was scheduled for, right when the auditions were scheduled to start. I had been there for about 5 minutes when fire alarms started going off and lights started flashing. A voice came over the system telling nobody to panic and that if the building needed to be evacuated they would let us know. About 5 minutes after THAT we heard sirens outside and the voice came over the system telling us it was time to evacuate via the stairs and there had been an incident on the 3rd floor. We were on the 4th. Two people who were waiting to audition booked it out of there. The rest of us were like "i'll audition in the fire... not leaving til the casting director does" We were told we actually didn't have to leave so the auditions soon started with who was there, and after about 5 people had gone they started letting people into the building again. I sang very well. Probably the best I could sing that song, 9:30 am or not, but if I don't look jewish enough, well, thats just something I'll have to deal with. Dave Clemmons did comment that he thought I did really well with my song, esspecially at that hour or something to that effect, it was nice and he seemed genuine. So I left happy, but knowing from the looks of the noses called in that I wouldn't be hearing from this show.
Then I got a ticket for entering the subway via that fucking gate...that was propped open, instead of the turnstile. Fuck my life. Then I went home & passed out.
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-That afternoon at about 2:30 Mike got to my place.
-Pack up shit, hit the road for Virginia.
-Dinner at ZEE CRACKER BARRELLLLLLL where an old woman working there hits on mike 3 times with the same line.
-It starts raining once we hit Delaware, we realize we wouldn't be getting to my aunt Kims house til after midnight and decide to stay the night in Delaware at his parents condo.
-Enjoy a long conversation in a long shower. I can't always help him, and I worry about his anxiety but if I can at least be there to listen I feel like I've helped in some way. I love him so much and I don't want him to suffer ever and just want to do anything I can, even when I know theres not necisarily anything i CAN do
-Enjoy the leather sofa in the tv room
-Enjoy each others bodies on said leather sofa in the tv room
-Enjoy the sound of Michael softly falling asleep beside me in the bed that he first told me he loved me in
-Use this as the soundtrack of me finishing the book Middlesex and bawl my eyes out. The end of the book isn't all THAT sad but it strikes a chord and knowing the emotional tornado I'm going to go through the next day I let it all out.
We got up early Saturday and got to Kims about 20 minutes after she and her husband, Howard got home from church. We chatted, ate food, played with her dog, but then got to the real work at hand.
I was there to sort through (almost) all of my dads stuff and decide what things I wanted to take for myself, decide for my mother and brother what I thought they would want, and decide what of these things I just couldn't see getting thrown out.
This was so heartwrenchingly fucking hard.
The first thing I noticed was that he STILL HAD a breifcase style wooden box that I had made in 8th grade shop class and painted to have vines all over the front that wrapped around to the back. I knew for a while he was keeping tools in it but I had no idea he had kept it that long
I started with his clothes, he had a million hats, some of which he stole from me. Some baseball caps but mostly big hats with rims the whole way around, grandpa caps, and hats with wool flaps.
I made sure to check the pockets of all of his pants, shirts, jackets and suits. As a construction worker he didn't have all that many reasons to wear suits or dress up, so in the pockets of all of his nice coats and suits were tickets to my shows, tickets to my graduation, places he went to see me on stage. And a million handkercheifs. He kept the ridiculous shirt he had from the couple of months when i was really young that he had to work at Friendly's. Flannel shirts, checkered shirts, carhart work overalls, there were new t shirts that he hadn't even gotten to wear yet, the tags were still on them. That upset me so much. Just like, proof that he wasnt planning on or ready to go.
What I really loved though, was going through his stuff.
First of all, they may have been divorced, but he loved my mother so much. She was the absolute LOVE of his life. The only evidence that he was divorced were the actual divorce papers. He had all these pictures of her. Some pictures I had never seen from when Scott was just a baby and they were riding in the back of my Mom's fathers pick up. He had a matchbook from their wedding in the box he kept on his night stand. He had an envelope with their wedding invitations and a napkin from the wedding. I know how much he loved her because he told me. He told her. He told everyone. If I were her I couldn't ever get over that. She pushed away the only man who ever loved her the way a person deserves to be loved because she didn't know how to return it.
Because he was more organized than my mom, he had all our legal documents, birth certificates, social security cards, diplomas, etc... so thats good that I know where those are...
And he loved Scott and I so much. I said this in his life and I'll say it now that he's gone: he and I were alot closer than he was to Scott. Thats that thing I was talking about before, it seems weird for me to say something like that about someone who has passed away. Why should I not just because he's gone? its truth. Truth is all that matters.
Anyway, it was very clear, going through his things, that he felt as close to me as I did to him. I was everywhere. The tickets that weren't in the pockets of his suits were mixed in with the things from his desk, or the box from his nightstand. There was a picture of me in the box where he kept all his important jewelry. HE KEPT OUR BABY TEETH! what was he gonna do with those?! haha i mean, come on! I found a wedding ring that belonged to my dads mother that when she was dying, and knew she was dying, and delgating her things, she left that to Scott. My Dad knew better than to give it to him yet because he'd just lose it so I guess I'm in charge of when he gets it now. I found another wedding ring in one of his boxes that I can only assume is his, so I put it on the necklace that I have with my dads ashes in it. Theres so much more and I don't even know. It was hard for me not to save everything. I mean, so many things were connected to memories that i had. I couldn't keep every stapler, calculator, pencil, pad of paper that I have a memory tied to. I wanted to. And I did keep the 2 carpenters pencils I found. I wanted to just pile it up and surround myself with it and live in the mountain of his stuff.
I only wish his clothes still smelled like him instead of taking on the smell of my aunt kims attic.
Every little thing made me cry, and every little thing made me laugh because so much of it were just so HIM. Like when I found a pen that was extra short but really fat and bright green in his work pants. Or all his belt buckles that have saws on them.
The hardest part was when I found the helmet. I had seen it since the accident, so it wasn't a huge shock to me seeing it, but that didn't make it easier. It's the one I would have taken with me to wear when I ride my bike if I could have. Its a half helmet that was covered in leather meaning it covered his head, but not the back of his neck or ears. He'd gotten in within the past year. He had two other full helmets with face sheilds and everything but really liked this one because it was great for the summer months when you wanted to feel the wind.
Because it was covered in leather, you could see exactly where his head hit the tree when he flew off the bike. The leather was all messed up on the helmet right where his hairline would have been. There was dirt and mud still dried into the helmet. Probably blood too, since his ear was ripped off. It was too much for me. I wanted to keep it and I wanted to throw it out the window. Ultimately I left it behind. Its kind of nagging at me, for some morbid reason I feel like I should have held onto it.
I left the safe that we kept all of our legal documentation in along with his coin collection. Kims going to bring that up when she goes to my cousins/her neices wedding next month and give it to my aunt Trudy who will give it to my mom.
I also realized that I forgot a shopping bag full of undeveloped film and disposable cameras. That is coming up with the safe. That I am excited for. I am going to try to develop a roll a week. It will be my ongoing project. Who knows how old some of it was. I remember even when I was little him always having rolls and rolls of undeveloped film.
Once I got it seperated and labelled I had these boxes and things:
-Tiffany's Stuff
-Mom & Scott's Stuff
-Tiffany's Clothes
-Mom & Scott's Clothes
-Can Not Throw Out
-Can Not Throw Out-Clothes
-a tv
-a breifcase
-a jar of change
-a thing that my dad found(maybe while he was somewhere with my mom, i'm not sure) that looks an awful lot like a bomb. I guess he was never sure what it was, but he's had it for as long as I can remember and he had always told me it was a bomb.
-a really old looking framed picture of a woman looking off a balcony over a river. He found it in a dumpster or a junk shop or something and was so excited to call me and tell me about it because he thought it was just SOOOO cool
We got it all packed up into Mikes car, had dinner with Kim & Howard at 8:30 and he and I were both passed out by 10:30 that night.
We headed back at about 10amish today and got back around 8. It was so incredibly nice of Mike to bring me down there and help me sort through everything. And just to sit and let me rest my head on his shoulder and cry when I needed to. He stayed quiet, but attentive and listened to every story I had to tell about each little thing I came across, which is exactly what I needed. He knows exactly how to be, and is just so good to me. I don't know how he learned me so well. :)
I can't even put into words how perfect he is and how perfect he is for me and how perfect I feel like we are for each other.
Ugh, but now I can't sleep now because this that I've talked about in this YEAR long entry is all running through my head and I'm thinking alot about my dad and what he would have had to say about all this.
I haven't unpacked and sorted everything yet, its a daunting task.
I have a dentist appointment tomorrow at 1 and still have to memorize that fucking menu. And on top of it all, Sean wants to be friends again. He really hurt me initially, then any time he has tried to apologize he's hurt me even more. I'm taking the poison out of my life and he's part of it. Once my friends all graduate he will hopefully forget all about me, beceause we could have been long lasting friends, but he pushed me away too many times and I won't allow myself to be abused any longer. I have done that to myself with boys and with friends and I can finally see it when its happening, and am NOT going to allow it in my life if I can help it. I put up with alot of shit from friends, but he's not my friend any longer.
It was so wonderful to have a week off from work and I'm thinking of looking into a temp agency. I'm just so sick of waiting on tables that it HURTS to think about going back. Also I have to study the new menu. YUCK.
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Last weekend I went to LI to visit Mike. Then monday I came back into the city, to my apartment, got my brothers birthday presents(a small statue of ganesha, the multi armed, elephant headed diety regarded as the remover of all obstacles. it was made in tibet. and a Barack Obama for President T-shirt) then headed to the 125th train. My mother couldn't pick me up because Scott was spending the night at her place and there would be no room for me, so I went all the way to the end of the line and my grandmother picked me up at midnight. My aunt(my moms sister) had also come up for scotts birthday, all the way up to Connecticut from North Carolina.
The following day my grandpa, grandma, aunt joann and I all headed over to my grandma's brother, peter's house that he shares with his long-time partner, Evan. My uncles live on a mountain and driving through the farmland to get there and seeing all the foliage was just amazing. It was great to see the two of them, I love them more and more the older I get. I feel like we've gotten closer also because as I've gotten older, growing up in the theater community I get that they are gay(they have never officially come out to the family, but we all know, its not something they have ever hidden) and accept it and embrace it and we giggle and joke and have a blast. I get the feeling that if I had been young when they were that we would all have been fantastic friends.
Anyway, they live in this GORGEOUS 2 story home on a mountain in CT that is incredibly furnished; they used to run an antiques business together. Scott and my mom came about a half hour after we'd gotten there and I'd filled them in that I am auditioning again and loving the city life. He was surprised to see me, as we hadn't seen each other since Dad's service, and even more surprised to see aunt jo-ann.
Before I go any farther, in case you don't know my brother has a history of drug and alcohol abuse(he's not currently using) and is both bi-polar and schitzophrenic. These conditions were not caused by the substance abuse but that certainly didn't help it.
We were all sitting in the living room, snacking on brie and crackers, talking about the election and things like that and I was so impressed by how intellegently Scott was taking about it. He was so...all there, everything he was saying making sense, making valid controbutions to the discussion.
Then we moved into the dining room for a late thanksgiving themed lunch. Thats when Scott started to get weird. He kept talking about how the Rockafellers left him money in wills that he's to inherit and that some landlord came up to him on the street and told him that on his 26th birthday(which is what this birthday was) he was to inherit Rockafeller Center. The way he said it sometimes almost sounded like he was thinking "i know you think I'm crazy, now what do you think of THIS!" but when we chuckled with him or told him that it was all ridiculous he would get upset and accuse us of hiding things from him. He gets especially mad at my mom. When my uncle Evan brought out the cake, Scott started cutting it slower than one might think possible. Evan then asked me if I could dole out the rest of the slices and Scott snapped at him. Which really upset me because Evan is one of the sweetest men on the face of this earth.
There was also a weird moment when we were talking about something(can't remember what) that reminded me of my father, so I made a little joke about him/it. Not at his expense and certainly not a joke about him being gone but everyone got a little uncomfortable. It was as if now that he's gone I can't talk about him as I would have before. He is still him. He is and was the same man and would not be mad to have had a joke made in his direction, in fact, i'm sure he would have laughed along with me. Peoples additudes about this sort of thing confuse me. I'm not going to stop mentioning him or joking about him or sharing stories about him.
We headed back into the living room to shower him with gifts. I mean, I'm not going to get that many presents for my next 26 birthdays put together. I understand the logic my mother and grandmother had behind it though...they feel that he has so little in his life the least they can do is get him some stuff. Scott is strange about things like that because at times he's so anti-materialistic and then the next second its gimme gimme gimme gimme. He was like a child on christmas, in the worst way possible.
-Rip open a present.
-throw the wrapping paper at me- because if I wasn't collecting the paper in a garbage bag he would have made a huge mess.
-look at the present go oh thanks its a _____
-if it was a gift certificate not thank the person until he feverishly looked all over the card to see how much it was worth and announce it to the room and say just how much he thinks he could get with that "oh i could get like a magazine"
-grab at the next
frustratingly unthankful. He doesn't know any better? He seemed somewhat grateful but still didn't even realize how nice it was that everyone came together like that for him. As the day progressed he began looking off into space more as if he was a million miles away, or REALLY focused on someone who had something to say who was about 40 feet behind the farthest person in the room. And he was doing that THING where he laughs when there is nothing to be laughed at. My mom, scott and I stopped back at my moms place before bringing me to the train and Scott was mumbling to himself, laughing, and doing this weird whispering hissing type nose that was like something out of a horror movie. I asked him what that was and why he sounded like something out of friday the 13th and he said something weird like "i have to get the all the noise out before...." then trailed off mumbling and laughing to himself. The whole ride from my moms to the train he kept laughing to himself and when I asked him what was funny he first said he was thinking about something funny that had happened at peter and evens. Each time after that he said he got defensive and mean and sometimes said he was STILL thinking about that thing that happened or he just was like nothing, or denied it all together.
My mom dropped me off at the station I used to get off and on at when I was still at school and still with Wayne. Its strange how that whole train line will always make me think of him and remember the feeling of traveling out to visit him. I remember it not longingly, but fondly. We were young and in love and silly and stupid. Puppy love. We wanted completely different things but at that time each other was okay, until we realized that each other was not, in the end what we wanted for our lives. He is such a wonderful thing to have in my life, a reflection of the best parts of my past. Someone who has known me forever, and because of that, knows me in a way that so many people don't. But, he is in no way a threat to my future love life, as ex's can be, because that part of us is so far removed, and we are now completely in love in such deeper and different ways(not to discount what we had, of course) with different people who are so much more right for us. Going upstate makes me miss his friendship.
On the way back I saw this guy, Adam, who was a few classes ahead of me in high school. His brother was in my grade. He is openly gay and working as a hairdresser, but going to school to be an aviation engineer. It was interesting to talk to someone who had a very similar experience as far as our surroundings growing up, but we barely knew each other at the time.
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That night I went back into the city, grabbed some sheet music and clothes then headed back to long island. The following day I had a voice lesson with the new teacher at FTC, Mindy.
IT FELT SO GOOD TO SING WITH A TEACHER AGAIN.
oh my goooood. to be guided and taught and helped. it was WONDERFUL. She helped me do things with my voice I hadn't done in a year. My mix isn't gone! oh it was glorious to know my talent hasn't fallen by the wayside. We prepared me for my audition for Fiddler on the Roof because though I was typed out of the open call, something about my submission caught their eye and they called me in. I wanted it to be good because even if I wasn't right for the show I got a chance to sing for Dave Clemmins who is a pretty big casting director for theater.
I rode back into the city with Mike on Thursday when he was going in to meet with a recording studio on the lower east side about an internship(which he got! yay!) for the audition Friday morning.
I got to the audition about a half hour earlier than my slot was scheduled for, right when the auditions were scheduled to start. I had been there for about 5 minutes when fire alarms started going off and lights started flashing. A voice came over the system telling nobody to panic and that if the building needed to be evacuated they would let us know. About 5 minutes after THAT we heard sirens outside and the voice came over the system telling us it was time to evacuate via the stairs and there had been an incident on the 3rd floor. We were on the 4th. Two people who were waiting to audition booked it out of there. The rest of us were like "i'll audition in the fire... not leaving til the casting director does" We were told we actually didn't have to leave so the auditions soon started with who was there, and after about 5 people had gone they started letting people into the building again. I sang very well. Probably the best I could sing that song, 9:30 am or not, but if I don't look jewish enough, well, thats just something I'll have to deal with. Dave Clemmons did comment that he thought I did really well with my song, esspecially at that hour or something to that effect, it was nice and he seemed genuine. So I left happy, but knowing from the looks of the noses called in that I wouldn't be hearing from this show.
Then I got a ticket for entering the subway via that fucking gate...that was propped open, instead of the turnstile. Fuck my life. Then I went home & passed out.
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-That afternoon at about 2:30 Mike got to my place.
-Pack up shit, hit the road for Virginia.
-Dinner at ZEE CRACKER BARRELLLLLLL where an old woman working there hits on mike 3 times with the same line.
-It starts raining once we hit Delaware, we realize we wouldn't be getting to my aunt Kims house til after midnight and decide to stay the night in Delaware at his parents condo.
-Enjoy a long conversation in a long shower. I can't always help him, and I worry about his anxiety but if I can at least be there to listen I feel like I've helped in some way. I love him so much and I don't want him to suffer ever and just want to do anything I can, even when I know theres not necisarily anything i CAN do
-Enjoy the leather sofa in the tv room
-Enjoy each others bodies on said leather sofa in the tv room
-Enjoy the sound of Michael softly falling asleep beside me in the bed that he first told me he loved me in
-Use this as the soundtrack of me finishing the book Middlesex and bawl my eyes out. The end of the book isn't all THAT sad but it strikes a chord and knowing the emotional tornado I'm going to go through the next day I let it all out.
We got up early Saturday and got to Kims about 20 minutes after she and her husband, Howard got home from church. We chatted, ate food, played with her dog, but then got to the real work at hand.
I was there to sort through (almost) all of my dads stuff and decide what things I wanted to take for myself, decide for my mother and brother what I thought they would want, and decide what of these things I just couldn't see getting thrown out.
This was so heartwrenchingly fucking hard.
The first thing I noticed was that he STILL HAD a breifcase style wooden box that I had made in 8th grade shop class and painted to have vines all over the front that wrapped around to the back. I knew for a while he was keeping tools in it but I had no idea he had kept it that long
I started with his clothes, he had a million hats, some of which he stole from me. Some baseball caps but mostly big hats with rims the whole way around, grandpa caps, and hats with wool flaps.
I made sure to check the pockets of all of his pants, shirts, jackets and suits. As a construction worker he didn't have all that many reasons to wear suits or dress up, so in the pockets of all of his nice coats and suits were tickets to my shows, tickets to my graduation, places he went to see me on stage. And a million handkercheifs. He kept the ridiculous shirt he had from the couple of months when i was really young that he had to work at Friendly's. Flannel shirts, checkered shirts, carhart work overalls, there were new t shirts that he hadn't even gotten to wear yet, the tags were still on them. That upset me so much. Just like, proof that he wasnt planning on or ready to go.
What I really loved though, was going through his stuff.
First of all, they may have been divorced, but he loved my mother so much. She was the absolute LOVE of his life. The only evidence that he was divorced were the actual divorce papers. He had all these pictures of her. Some pictures I had never seen from when Scott was just a baby and they were riding in the back of my Mom's fathers pick up. He had a matchbook from their wedding in the box he kept on his night stand. He had an envelope with their wedding invitations and a napkin from the wedding. I know how much he loved her because he told me. He told her. He told everyone. If I were her I couldn't ever get over that. She pushed away the only man who ever loved her the way a person deserves to be loved because she didn't know how to return it.
Because he was more organized than my mom, he had all our legal documents, birth certificates, social security cards, diplomas, etc... so thats good that I know where those are...
And he loved Scott and I so much. I said this in his life and I'll say it now that he's gone: he and I were alot closer than he was to Scott. Thats that thing I was talking about before, it seems weird for me to say something like that about someone who has passed away. Why should I not just because he's gone? its truth. Truth is all that matters.
Anyway, it was very clear, going through his things, that he felt as close to me as I did to him. I was everywhere. The tickets that weren't in the pockets of his suits were mixed in with the things from his desk, or the box from his nightstand. There was a picture of me in the box where he kept all his important jewelry. HE KEPT OUR BABY TEETH! what was he gonna do with those?! haha i mean, come on! I found a wedding ring that belonged to my dads mother that when she was dying, and knew she was dying, and delgating her things, she left that to Scott. My Dad knew better than to give it to him yet because he'd just lose it so I guess I'm in charge of when he gets it now. I found another wedding ring in one of his boxes that I can only assume is his, so I put it on the necklace that I have with my dads ashes in it. Theres so much more and I don't even know. It was hard for me not to save everything. I mean, so many things were connected to memories that i had. I couldn't keep every stapler, calculator, pencil, pad of paper that I have a memory tied to. I wanted to. And I did keep the 2 carpenters pencils I found. I wanted to just pile it up and surround myself with it and live in the mountain of his stuff.
I only wish his clothes still smelled like him instead of taking on the smell of my aunt kims attic.
Every little thing made me cry, and every little thing made me laugh because so much of it were just so HIM. Like when I found a pen that was extra short but really fat and bright green in his work pants. Or all his belt buckles that have saws on them.
The hardest part was when I found the helmet. I had seen it since the accident, so it wasn't a huge shock to me seeing it, but that didn't make it easier. It's the one I would have taken with me to wear when I ride my bike if I could have. Its a half helmet that was covered in leather meaning it covered his head, but not the back of his neck or ears. He'd gotten in within the past year. He had two other full helmets with face sheilds and everything but really liked this one because it was great for the summer months when you wanted to feel the wind.
Because it was covered in leather, you could see exactly where his head hit the tree when he flew off the bike. The leather was all messed up on the helmet right where his hairline would have been. There was dirt and mud still dried into the helmet. Probably blood too, since his ear was ripped off. It was too much for me. I wanted to keep it and I wanted to throw it out the window. Ultimately I left it behind. Its kind of nagging at me, for some morbid reason I feel like I should have held onto it.
I left the safe that we kept all of our legal documentation in along with his coin collection. Kims going to bring that up when she goes to my cousins/her neices wedding next month and give it to my aunt Trudy who will give it to my mom.
I also realized that I forgot a shopping bag full of undeveloped film and disposable cameras. That is coming up with the safe. That I am excited for. I am going to try to develop a roll a week. It will be my ongoing project. Who knows how old some of it was. I remember even when I was little him always having rolls and rolls of undeveloped film.
Once I got it seperated and labelled I had these boxes and things:
-Tiffany's Stuff
-Mom & Scott's Stuff
-Tiffany's Clothes
-Mom & Scott's Clothes
-Can Not Throw Out
-Can Not Throw Out-Clothes
-a tv
-a breifcase
-a jar of change
-a thing that my dad found(maybe while he was somewhere with my mom, i'm not sure) that looks an awful lot like a bomb. I guess he was never sure what it was, but he's had it for as long as I can remember and he had always told me it was a bomb.
-a really old looking framed picture of a woman looking off a balcony over a river. He found it in a dumpster or a junk shop or something and was so excited to call me and tell me about it because he thought it was just SOOOO cool
We got it all packed up into Mikes car, had dinner with Kim & Howard at 8:30 and he and I were both passed out by 10:30 that night.
We headed back at about 10amish today and got back around 8. It was so incredibly nice of Mike to bring me down there and help me sort through everything. And just to sit and let me rest my head on his shoulder and cry when I needed to. He stayed quiet, but attentive and listened to every story I had to tell about each little thing I came across, which is exactly what I needed. He knows exactly how to be, and is just so good to me. I don't know how he learned me so well. :)
I can't even put into words how perfect he is and how perfect he is for me and how perfect I feel like we are for each other.
Ugh, but now I can't sleep now because this that I've talked about in this YEAR long entry is all running through my head and I'm thinking alot about my dad and what he would have had to say about all this.
I haven't unpacked and sorted everything yet, its a daunting task.
I have a dentist appointment tomorrow at 1 and still have to memorize that fucking menu. And on top of it all, Sean wants to be friends again. He really hurt me initially, then any time he has tried to apologize he's hurt me even more. I'm taking the poison out of my life and he's part of it. Once my friends all graduate he will hopefully forget all about me, beceause we could have been long lasting friends, but he pushed me away too many times and I won't allow myself to be abused any longer. I have done that to myself with boys and with friends and I can finally see it when its happening, and am NOT going to allow it in my life if I can help it. I put up with alot of shit from friends, but he's not my friend any longer.