Tag: goodbye

Categories
personal

Thanks, Kymberly!

I’ve decided to be happy

Me: I just wanted to say thank you for working with me for this past year.
Therapist: Logan! You think we’ve only been talking for a year? You mentioned looking forward to your date with the Firecracker, and that was at least 20 months ago.
Me: I cannot be trusted with things related to time these days.

I had my first therapy session with my therapist, Kymberly, on 2021.06.03.

She was the third regular therapist I had but the one that I’ve seen the longest and most consistently.

That’s for a buncha reasons: On the practical side, my insurance covered alla it and I could do alla my sessions at home on Zoom.

On the personal side, I knew I needed to talk to a professional, but I suppose that I didn’t realize just how much I needed to talk to one.

The first few sessions were not great as I was pretty belligerent, but she stuck with me and I her.

As time passed, I began to notice that I was less angry – still angry, just less so.

Me: There’s this joke I heard once where a man says to the other, “What would you say if I gave you a million dollars but only on the condition that the person you hate most gets two million?” And the second man replies, “Of course, why wouldn’t I want three million dollars?”
Her: You hate yourself?
Me: More than anyone, sometimes. (thinking) It’s a good joke, though.

Chad once said he felt that I was clinging on to a wrong relationship with a death grip because I’d lost so much already and was loathe to lose anything else.

Think that was the most accurate and sage thing he ever said.

With the passage of time, and Kymberly’s help, I was able to accept my new reality, though.

Me: Losing Alison and my dad was a bit like losing a leg. I know I’ll never be complete again, and I’ll always remember the days when I had them both here as my happiest. I know I can be happy again, I just also know that it won’t be the same because I will never be the same.
Her: But this version of Logan can be happy, can’t he? Maybe not the same as before, different, but still good?
Me: I suppose that’s the hope.

Unfortunately, she’s moving to a different office and one that doesn’t take my insurance. So, we have to part ways, at least for now.

She was a good therapist – and I’m well enough now, a good deal thanks to her, that I’m not in a rush to replace her.

Thanks, doc.

I’m feeling much better now.

Her: I like that analogy of your losing a leg. But, I think you can be happy again. If you’re nicer to yourself.
Me: I’ll try. It’s not easy, but I’m gonna try. I’ll never be happy like I was when Alison and my dad were still alive. But…it’d be nice to be happy again.

Every so often, I’ll hear a song, and it’ll feel as if it was written just for me.

To wit, here’s a song called Decide to be Happy by a band called Misterwives.

There are several lines that I feel I’ve said here myself in some manner or another:

Been feelin’ like a stranger in my body.  I haven’t been myself in a while, I’m sorry.

Got to decide to be happy ‘Cause it don’t always come naturally.

I particularly really like this line:

I’ve been down on my knees, prayin’ things I don’t believe

…because I’ve been on my knees so much since you’ve known me.

You know what?

Here’s the whole song and alla the lyrics – it’s worth a listen, I think.

Music, it saved me
But it drives me crazy
‘Cause it forces my eyes, to take a look and see
Got to decide to be happy
‘Cause it don’t always come naturally
Been feelin’ like a stranger in my body
I haven’t been myself in a while, I’m sorry (I’m sorry)
Got to decide to be happy (happy)
‘Cause it don’t always come naturally

‘Cause flowers, don’t grow without the rain
And goodness, don’t grow without the pain
Flowers, don’t grow without the rain
Goodness, don’t grow without the pain

I’ve been down on my knees
Prayin’ things I don’t believe
Hopin’ that it’ll save me
So I decide to be happy
I’ve been down on my knees
Prayin’ things I don’t believe
Hopin’ that it’ll save me
So I decide to be happy

My mind, it can be a scary place at times
So I hide under my bed and close all the blinds
And I cry (and I cry)
And I cry (and I cry)
Waste the day away, so I turn on the lights
And I search for a sign or a rhyme or a reason
Why I’m unsteady as the seasons

‘Cause flowers, don’t grow without the rain
And goodness, don’t grow without the pain
Flowers, don’t grow without the rain
Goodness, don’t grow without the pain

I’ve been down on my knees
Prayin’ things I don’t believe
Hopin’ that it’ll save me
So I decide to be happy
I’ve been down on my knees
Prayin’ things I don’t believe
Hopin’ that it’ll save me
So I decide to be happy

If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands
If you’re sad and you know it, well now’s your chance to dance
If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands
If you’re sad and you know it, well now’s your chance to dance
Well now’s your chance to dance, now’s your chance to dance
(Now’s your chance to dance, now’s your chance to dance)

I’ve been down on my knees
Prayin’ things I don’t believe
Hopin’ that it’ll save me
So I decide to be happy
I’ve been down on my knees
Prayin’ things I don’t believe
Hopin’ that it’ll save me
So I decide to be happy

Location: not where you might expect; a tiny room with the kid practically on top of me
Mood: soooooooooo sick – you would not believe how sick I am
Music: I decide to be happy (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Tigers with different stripes, Pt 2

The best five days of my life

The other thing about my dad/family was something else that I also learned in Cornell: When I took my first Chinese language class, the teacher asked how to say “maternal grandmother” in Chinese.

I confidently said, “阿婆 (ā pó)” but was corrected, it was “外婆 (wàipó).”

I’d never heard of 外婆 (wàipó) before, we never used that term nor had I ever heard it before.

Me: I was so embarrassed that I got that wrong. Why didn’t we use the right way of saying it for [mom’s mom]?
Father: Do you know what 外婆 means? It means “outside grandmother.” That’s what you call the wife’s mother because, in Chinese culture, the mother’s family and side doesn’t count – they’re outsiders and not really part of the family. That’s wrong, I think, and offensive. Your mom’s family is as much a part of our family as mine is.

For all my dad’s traditions and pressure, he was a decent and fair man and that story perfectly encapsulates him.

It was a simple but profound thing, which makes sense as he was both a simple and profound man.

And I think that a major reason the three of us – my sister, brother, and myself – have been so successful in life.

Moreso than the education and the accolates.

Because I suppose we always knew that, no matter what, our parents loved us and always would.

That’s a powerful comfort in an uncomfortable world and something that I hope I give my own kid.

Yeah, if there’s one thing that I’d like to pass on from my dad to my own kid, it’s that.

My dad died August 24th, 2017, seven years ago this week.

I love him every bit right now as I did seven years ago and always will.

Even though, at times, I wonder if he knew.

Me: (angrily) Yeah, well, you wait. My kid is gonna be successful and happy. It won’t matter to me if he goes to an ivy league or not.
Him: You’re threatening me with a happy and successful grandkid? (laughing) Go ahead. Because that’s exactly what I want too. When you’re a dad yourself, you’ll understand. I’m trying to keep you all safe.

And, of course, I totally care if he makes it into an ivy league or not.

Just maybe – maybe – not quite as much.

Did you know that no two tigers have the same stripes?

A tiger’s pattern is as unique as human fingerprints AND not only is a tiger’s fur striped, but its skin is also striped as well.

It has hidden beauties you wouldn’t know about while it was alive.

This also means that every tiger is different from every other tiger, despite all outward appearances.

My dad may have been Chinese, but he was so different in many ways and uniquely mine.

I wish he was still here.

But I suppose you already knew that.

The picture above is the day my parents met my son.

It’s one of only a handful of pictures I have with all three of them.

The main picture is another of the few – precious – images I have of my father with my son.

I have none with him, Alison, and my son. Zero fucking pictures.

Not a single goddamn one.

And everything went to shit after that picture.

But, for a moment in time, that was the happiest I ever was because my entire family was alive and happy for five days.

I didn’t yet know that would be all I would ever get. Ever.

Those were the best five days of my life.

What a shitty truth it is that the lucky never realize they are lucky until it’s too late. 

Location: yesterday and today, bars. Drinking it all away.
Mood: cautious
Music: I’ve got memories and travel like gypsies in the night (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Goodnight Ms. Binnie Meltzer

I’m sorry I never told you

In the red bag that my mom brought to me while I was in Flushing was my Junior High School yearbook, that my sister found and told her to get to me.

The reason I was thrilled to get it was for one reason and one reason alone – I wanted to figure out the name of my English teacher.

See, the most influential teacher I had was a Ms. Meltzer and for years I always meant to find her and let her know that, but life got in the way.

Plus, I had no idea what her first name was.

But with the yearbook, I immediately looked for her and was disappointed to find that it only had her first initial was “B” and that led me – well, really, the Firecracker to a search and we found “Binnie Meltzer’s” obituary.

I’m certain it was her.

It made me both happy and sad; happy in that I found her, in a manner of speaking, and – of course – sad that I was too late.

She died in 2006. A lifetime ago.

She was the first teacher that I was always happy to see and that made me think that I had any type of talent for anything at all.

If she was still alive, I woulda told her what a profound and positive influence she was on me – I write because she told me once that I was a good writer and I believed her.

That’s the power of a good teacher.

Goodnight, Ms. Meltzer.

You were an amazing teacher and human, and I’m forever grateful we met.

On a much more mundane note, because of alla my injuries, my sleep’s been crap lately, so the Firecracker suggested that I get some nature – well, as much nature as NYC provides.

To that end, we had a little picnic in Central Park near Sheep’s Meadow, which was pretty great, I gotta say.

Her: Honestly, this is all I really need. My person, a picnic, a park, and my pup.
Me: I could do without onea those things.
Her: Oh, stop…

Location: supermarket for tea, which I forgot to buy despite it being WHY I WENT IN THE FIRST PLACE
Mood: annoyed at myself
Music: I got an open mind so, tell me where you wanna go (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Goodnight, Olivia

Running outta time

Years ago, I met this sweet, funny, very pretty girl who was just a bit too young for me.

But we got along really well and kept in touch here and there.

She was the girl I mentioned to you here.

The last time we spoke, we said we’d have a playdate with our kids but then life got into the way.

Life always seems to get in the way.

Found out via social media that she just died.

So, like with my friends Bobby and Kirk, Alison, and my dad, I thought Olivia and I would have enough time in life to see each other again.

I’m always so wrong.

We weren’t super close, so I don’t have any details beyond what was listed in her obituary.

So, I’ll be mostly back to normal soon, but her family doesn’t have that luxury.

I have some ideas what happened based on our last conversation, but I suppose that’s between her and me.

It hit me hard, though. Sat down after I read it. It took my breath away.

She was so young; she was a teen when we met and only 36 when she died. Like Alison.

And like Alison, she left a little kid behind, except this kid not only loved her mom, she knew – really knew – her mom.

Dunno which kid is in a worse position, actually.

But I suppose that’s irrelevant at this point.

Goodnight, Olivia.

Everything is so unfair, and I’m so sorry for that.

I wish you could have stayed.

I was 34 in this picture. She was only 36 when she died.

Location: my head, remembering my possible pasts
Mood: gutted
Music: Let’s hit the road, friend of mine, wave goodbye to our thankless jobs (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Happy Father’s Day 2024

It’s been seven years

I was just born in this picture. My kid wore what I was wearing here as well. Maybe someday, I’ll show it to you.

Mom: Your dad’s been gone seven years. Can you believe it?
Me: Not really. It feels like it was just a couple of years ago.
Her: (repeating) Seven years. Not easy, is it?
Me: No. He woulda loved seeing [the kid].
Her: Yes. That’s your dad.
Me: (nodding)

Location: at a school performance, waiting for the kid to arrive
Mood: impressed
Music: Where are all the gods? (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Alison’s been gone seven years

How is that even possible?

New York’s a strange place.

The kid and I were walking up Broadway the other day and someone dropped an entire jar of pickles on the ground and no one batted an eye.

Everywhere I look, things are a mess or broken.

Everything is chaos and atrophy.

Or, at least, I’m noticing it more these days.

Probably because I’m a broken mess and my mind is all chaos and atrophy.

Alison died exactly seven years ago.

How is that even fucking possible?

Me: I realized something the other day: I may live another 40, 50 years. All that time without Alison.
Therapist: And how does that make you feel?
Me: (thinking) Pretty empty. Then again, these past seven years seemed to dash by.
Her: (at the end of the session) Are you ok?
Me: Yeah. It’s fine. I cry all the time.
Her: This is the first time you’ve cried in one of our sessions.
Me: Is that right? Well, I cry all the time. (shaking head) These years have gone by so fast.

Suppose life will be over before I know it.

It’s hurts to know that I’m gonna end up being an old man one day, and she never got that chance.

I’ve always wished it was me and not her.

Think I always will.

Editor note: I’ll be taking a mental health day for Sunday/Monday, so I’ll post again on Tuesday night.

Location: Stuck in my head again
Mood: heartbroken
Music: It was a big-big world, but we thought we were bigger (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

I’m sure she knows

Honest and for true

This entry is out of order; back to the regular nuthin in the next entry.

The Firecracker’s dad came into town this weekend and we met up with him on Saturday for a kid’s birthday party.

It was fine for the most part but then a parent snapped at my kid when he tried to break a piñata with his foot when it fell down – like an 8 year old kid understands why whacking a piece of cardboard with a stick is ok but kicking it isn’t – and destroyed him in front of all the other kids.

It pretty much set the mood for the rest of the weekend for us.

He’d never cried at a birthday party before and, of course, it had to happen during the weekend of Mother’s Day and his mom’s birthday.

Obviously, there’s no way for the other parent to have known that.

But I hoped that, as a parent, she woulda known that people’s brains don’t fully develop until they’re 25. She was yelling at a kid for being a happy and excited kid.

At least he was and then he very much not.

If it wasn’t for the fact that she couldn’t have known and that she was a mom, I woulda been arrested.

Still, he was fine after a spell because I raised him to be resilient, but – man – I was steamed.

Him: She said I did it on purpose, but I didn’t. I was trying to help. (sadly) I’m the worst kid.
Me: Don’t ever say that. She doesn’t know you at all. You’re the best kid mom or I could ever ask for.
Him: Really?
Me: Honest and for true.

We then went to have dinner with the Firecracker’s family at a local taco joint that I’d been to before and then called it a night.

The next morning, despite it being Mother’s Day, the Firecracker got up bright and early to make her family and us a killer brekkie with a baked blueberry and apple oatmeal dish and a baked fritatta with feta and bacon.

The oatmeal bar

My kid liked it so much, he asked for seconds of everything and also asked for more the next day.

God, I love that kid – he’s just like me where we eat our feelings.

We all chatted at my place for hours until we had to meet up with the ABFF for dinner and to remember Alison.

The Firecracker and her kid came along.

The ABFF, her sister, and kids were beyond great.

We ordered a crap ton of Chinese food and, just like in years past, we decorated balloons for Alison.

This was probably the worst birthday/Mother’s Day yet for the kid because he feels the loss now.

Being humiliated and yelled at a birthday party probably didn’t help matters.

It was the hardest one for me for a while because it hit the kid so hard.

Him: (looking up at the ballon) How do we know she’ll get it?
Me: We hope.
Him: (nodding) I hope she knows I miss her.
Me: She knows. I’m sure she knows

Location: home, fulla dumplings and other carbs
Mood: livid
Music: I try to say goodbye and I choke (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

I finally understand

Just one day

I was in my local supermarket when I ran into one of the cashiers, Lucy, in the produce section.

Her: (walking up to me holding a cup of coffee and put it down) I understand now. About your wife. My…my husband died.
Me: What?! Good god, I’m so sorry.
Her: (nodding) He was sick for a while. I thought he would be ok but…he didn’t let me know how bad it was.
Me: (putting down groceries and giving her a hug) I’m so sorry. We’re never ready, are we?
Her: (shaking head) No. I didn’t think he would go.

I went home, got a red envelope, stuffed a few bucks into it and went back to give it to her.

Her: No, no, I’m fine, really.
Me: (gently) I’m sure you’re fine. This is just for lunch. Make sure you eat, ok?
Her: (taking it) OK. Thank you.
Me: I wanna tell you that it’ll be ok. It won’t be. But you have to keep telling yourself that it will be. After a while, it’ll be kinda ok.

The rest is her story to tell but I was in my own head for a while after that.

Then, I was walking with the kid and he turned to me said the most profound thing:

Flowers may bloom again, but a person never has the chance to be young again.

Assume he learned it in Chinese class (花有重开日，人无再少年) because he certainly never learned it from me.

But then…

Him: Flowers come back. Why can’t mommy come back?
Me: I dunno. I dunno.
Him: I wish she would come back. Just once. Just for a day, even. (trailing off). She can’t come back, not even for one day? Just one day?
Me: Man, if only, kid. If only…

That was a hard walk.

We have hard walks, sometimes.

My kid’s a lot more mature than other kids his age. Sometimes, I think of him like he’s a little man.

Dunno if this is a good thing or not. I’m thinking not.

Wish he was just a kid without alla this weight on him.

It’s too much weight for a little kid like him to carry.

Don’t want a little man. Not yet.

Just want him to be a little kid for a little bit longer.

Location: On West End Avenue, finding myself at a loss for words
Mood: contemplative
Music: been gone far too long (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

An infinite capacity for taking things for granted

Got COVID…yet again

Firecracker: Take a COVID test.
Me: What? Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no way I have COVID again. I already had it three times, I’m double vaxxed and double boosted.
Her: Just take one. You have a million tests, anywho.
Me: (sighing) I guess you’re right.
Her: (later) Well?
Me: I HAVE @#$@#$@ COVID AGAIN! FOUR TIMES NOW!

Felt like hot trash for the past few days.

The two people I rolled with the day before AND the Firecracker – who spent every single day with me – did not get it.

My luck runs ever true.

The fella that wrote Brave New World once said, Most human being have an almost infinite capacity for taking things for granted.

Thought about that tonight because I’m constantly reminded of my possible pasts that I didn’t realize would be so short and special to me in hindsight.

See, I’ve been clearing out stuff in the house and had to head down to the basement, which I’ve not done in a while because the basement scares me, greatly.

Not because of the spiders, or mice, or whatnot, but because of ghosts.

Well, that’s not wholly true because they’re not ghosts per se, but apparitions in my head.

Remember when alla that flooding happened and I told you that I lost most of Alison’s things then? That was true. But I still find things.

Tonight, I found a box of a 101 cookie cutter shapes. Alison got them when she was pregnant with one of the kids we lost.

She had all these dreams of making sugar cookies and tree ornaments for our children.

They’ve never been used.

And I found bags and bags of the kid’s clothes when he was younger.

See, I saved every single goddamn shirt and pants. Because I thought that, maybe one day, I’d have another fatty to call my own. And he, or she, would need some clothes.

And a crib, and a stroller, and a changing bed, and toys…

But alla that seems less and less likely now.

One of the (many) things about Alison that I adored was how unsentimental she was. As long as she had a picture of something she loved, that was good enough for her.

Coming from a poor background, my family slanted towards hoarding while her priorities were cleaniness and order. She always encouraged me to let things go.

So, I started giving away a lotta of the kid’s old clothes and things.

And I’ll probably give away these cookie cutters as well.

Alison would have.

Spoke to my therapist recently.

Therapist: How have you been?
Me: Besides getting COVID for the 4th time, pretty well.
Her: (smiles) You seem it. Tell me what’s been going on.
Me: Things have been going really well with the Firecracker and me. She understands, better than most, having alla these hopes and dreams and then having them suddenly disappear.
Her: That’s great, what else?
Me: (thinking) I think that for a long time, I’ve been unable to truly accept that this is my life. I think that for the past…Jesus Christ…seven years, I’ve been fighting – both subconsciously and consciously – the reality that is my life.
Her: And now?
Me: I don’t really have any other choice, do I?
Her: I’m proud of you, Logan. That’s a good step. You should be proud of yourself as well.
Me: I’m not sure I’d go that far, yet. But I’m trying to be better.
Her: (nods)

Location: my basement, sans COVID, thinking of my possible pasts
Mood: thoughtful
Music: the trace of a memory, stained into the past (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Single-serving friends

A late-night walk in Hoboken

It’s been busy lately with a lot of comings and goings. Nothing really noteworthy; honestly, all the faces and names start to blend together.

Still, I was out in Hoboken the other day to meet up with someone but she was running late.

Her: I’m just aborting my current mission, shouldn’t be too late.
Me: Your phrasing made me laugh.

Since I had time, I found myself walking around Hoboken like I did Jersey City the other night in fall.

Dunno why I revisit these things but I do.

Of course, I found myself in front of Alison’s apartment.

Remembered when I first visited there and the day we moved her stuff out. It seems like both yesterday and a lifetime ago.

Wanted to ring the bell because there was a tiny (crazy) part of me that hoped maybe she’d answer. But the saner bits of my brain won out.

Barely.

Probably for the best, otherwise, I’da been arrested.

As for the girl, we met up at a restaurant I’d never been to.

It was a nice night. She was easy on the eyes, which helped.

Her: I wore this for you.
Me: Trust me when I tell you that I appreciate it.

We ended up hanging out and chatting for about five hours and hit up a few different places before she gave me a lift in her whip.

It was after midnight when I finally went to bed.

To be honest, it was a really fun and interesting night. But, like the narrator says in Fight Club, these are all single-serving friends; her for me and me for her.

It was a one-and-done, like most of these nights go.

Me: We’re both looking for something we can’t put into words.

It’s fine. We all know the rules of the game.

Lviv dropped me a line the other day as well to wish me a Happy New Year.

She and her fella moved outta state and they seem to be doing well. I wonder if things would be different if we met now instead of then.

It’s strange, you never can tell who stays in your Venn Diagram and who leaves.

Her: I’m sure something good is coming your way 🙂
Me: Thanks, Lviv! Here’s hoping…

Here’s hoping.

Location: earlier tonight, on West 94th Street, playing Taboo
Mood: hoping
Music: I been looking for a new ride (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.