irene…

…lidia and the others

“Dad, what are we going to do today?”

Its Sunday, my Mother, Lidia, was buried Friday. Yesterday the day was spent with family.

Today, I am torn by crosswinds.

Especially since the trees are whipping wildly against my balcony, swept by the tail of Hurricane Irene that has hit the U.S. east coast.

“The least possible, Noah, I’m exhausted.”

“Awwww…”

I would want to say that today I want to go wild, go out into the wind and rain and find a woman, as anonymous as possible, to exhaust my body with exultation rather than grief. Funerals do that to me.

“Is A… coming?”

Actually his babysitter is supposed to come this evening. I was hoping to play pool with a friend. A more reasonable way of distracting mind and body. But he cancelled.

So if I go out, I’ll go crazy.

“No…I don’t think so.”

“Awwww…its a long time since she came.”

The church bells are ringing. Is it noon, or a wedding or a funeral? Bells are bells, I could never tell whether they call for rejoicing or for grieving.

I feel bad for Noah. I want to rip myself apart with pleasure to deaden the pain. Perhaps he needs to do the same.

I look over.

He’s wearing his explorer’s lamp on the head and has dived into an enormous toy chest. Only his feet stick out. And there’s an eerie glow from inside the chest, courtesy of his lamp.

“Haha, found it, youhou.”

He pulls out a cannon, a castle, and a handful of chevaliers on horseback.

His is now a smile of exultation.

He needs nobody’s help for extreme pleasure.

A branch scrapes across the window.

Wake up, it says. Do something!

“Look, Dad, I like have a whole war going. Cool, huh?”

Irene, Lidia, and all the others who have swept me up with their beauty, their heart, their torments. Wind and love and rain and pain and the elemental emptiness within that can never be filled.

Live in the knowledge that each breath may be your last.

Irene kicks my door open. A gust of wind blows through the living room, knocking over Noah’s knights.

“Wooohooouuu, the gods are angry! So cool.”

Do something, the wind screams at me.

Visions of running out on the balcony to scream until the wind rips my lungs out.

Irene will be my only mistress today.

 

rest (2)…

…of our lives

“Dad, we have good times together.”

“We sure do.”

“You’re the best dad ever.”

“And you’re a great kid.”

“Are you ok, Dad?”

“Yeah, I’m just sad.”

“I’m sad, too.”

My mother’s body is being viewed on Thursday, all day. The funeral is Friday. I don’t know which I dread the most.

“Dad, it’s like 1:30, Harry Potter at the Imax starts in one hour.”

“Noah, you know with Nonna’s death it won’t be possible to go to the movies this week.”

“I know. Its ok.”

He’s trying to find the right words.

“Dad I’m just saying, you know tomorrow its the exposition like of Nonna, and then there’s the funeral Friday, and Uncle Enzo he’s leaving at six on Saturday. So like, Sunday, we’re free. I’m just saying.”

Damn, nobody gave him the schedule.  But I guess he’s right… the first day of the rest of our lives.

“We’ll see, kid.”

“Ok. I was just saying, you know.”

“I know.”

“Dad, could I go on the computer tonight?”

I guess the rest of our lives never stopped. Until it does, one day. As late as possible.

Perhaps, mourning the dead is rededicating yourself to the living.

“No, it makes you all cranky before bedtime.”

“Aaaaawwwwwwww.”

Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!

The rest of our lives.