Sunrise, sunset.

September 27, 2018

As I've been contemplating whether to continue my blog (I am) and what to do with myself (besides deep exhaling since the only job I could get would be filling balloons at parties), I've been trying to gain some semblance of a foothold in my life. A bit of traction here, I bit of traction there, doing my best Sisyphus impersonation. Hopefully I will eventually fair better than he did, but the jury is out to lunch for an extended period of time I'm afraid.

I started teaching again at the beginning of September- two different classes at Emerson (13 years now-wtf?), Monday and Wednesday nights. I pull my "Stoic" mask out of my closet, right next to my "Scream" and my "Curly" masks, slip it on, and off I go pretending that all is right with the world. On my way into town, I have to make sure I avoid any trigger music; that could mean songs that remind me of Abby or any of Abby's favorite songs or songs that remind me of us; sad or depressing or emotionally charged songs; songs about love or love lost; death or dying songs (Seasons in the Sun anyone?). Essentially, everything ever recorded. Luckily, I do have a Sirius subscription so I can get Comedy Central radio, uncensored. It's been a savior, mostly, but you do have to pick 'n choose, but fortunately, the skits aren't long so if one bombs out there's another chance for redemption coming to your radio soon. Also, talk/sports radio is an ok way to go, as is any local team game that happens to be on when I'm coming home. But if I hear "Yankees 10, Red Sox 2" I'm outta there- makes me too depressed.

Of course I'm generalizing here a bit, and I still listen to music aplenty, and in the bright of day, out and about, or working from home, it's all good. If I hear a song that reminds me of Abby, I smile, and figure she's playing it for me, trying to get her words out. It doesn't bum me out mostly, and I want to be able to hear, see, feel, touch all things Abby, and I know I'll get there, but it's gonna take some time to be able to be all in. There's just something about being in the car, quietly alone with your thoughts, and surrounded by homicidal drivers, that makes music take on a different relevance. Normally, it's a pleasurable thing for me, but it feels different now, especially when on my way to work when I really need to keep my brain focused, and not have my legs feel like they are made of Silly Putty, or have faucets where my eyes are supposed to be. But this too shall pass, I'm sure, mostly sure, somewhat sure at least.

I went to a "bereavement" counselor a week or so ago. I think they need a new title though, as I just don't like saying the word "bereavement". It's much too long, and it's awkward to say, and some people actually aren't sure what it means. I get a quizzical look from some people, and I can tell they aren't sure what I'm talking about, and so I've said "counseling for the living" which just further confuses them. Then I start talking about the movie "Beetlejuice" and the "Handbook for the Recently Deceased" and how they need to do one for the Living which I know they have a bazillion self-help books for but not in the same spirit (see what I did there) as the one in the movie. Now there's a project for me "Handbook for the Recently Living"® - please don't steal the title since I just made it up and kind of like it and I threw that little "®" on it so you won't steal, sell, borrow, or tread on the name. Maybe if I continue writing I have my new title. Not that I want to change "hearAbby" as she is still my love and my muse and always will be, but I may want to transition it someday. Right now, I feel like I'm a human Möbius strip, with my life closely morphing in and around me, twisting and turning, going 'round and 'round without any true direction. That will change I know, but I don't know when or how and I guess that's just how it is. Howard it is. As in Moe, Larry and Curly (Howard). Nyuk nyuks all around folks (I'm tryin' here), and don't let anyone poke you in the eyes- it hurts.

Love,

Craig, Ben and Aliza

(and Abby says "Hi"- she misses you all, but she is OK)