"I was called the Death Doula once by a friend," my friend Robin told me on a hike this weekend.
I laughed out loud.
Maria, Robin and I hiked Fern Canyon. Our first meeting of SOOTHE. A group born of Mamas who have lost Littles.
Sisters Out of Tragic Heartbreaking Experiences.....SOOTHE...it's catchy, right?
I like to think of it as a grief group born out of people who hate grief groups. It was a lovely, honest hiking day.
This week has been a week. I have tried to put emotion into a box that I can file.
But it doesn't seem to fit. My files are legal size and my box is letter and I struggle to put it all into something I can fit underneath my desk.
Maybe it shouldn't fit.
It all started last week with a friends brother-in-law who suddenly died. He was my age and loved the Smiths and Kate Bush. The last time I saw him was at my friends' amazing wedding which was ages ago. I love my friends. They loved their brother ardently. I joined them to celebrate his life.
You know what happens after you go to a memorial service?
You are so stinkin' nice.
I found myself that night at Home Depot after the service looking for a gallon of DefBlue for my diesel. The poor Home Depot Lady had to get on the ladder that you strap into and has a lift to go up to the third tier on the Home Depot shelf.....like 30 feet in the air.
And I said a little prayer.
"Please God, do not let the Home Depot Lady fall while getting my gallon of DefBlue. I just listened to Meat is Murder with a hint of Psychedelic Furs and I am in my good, sad place. Just let me be."
You are depressed but you're remarkably dressed
Alas. I thanked my Home Depot Lady. Got my diesel exhaust cleaning fluid and remarked on how busy a Home Depot is on a Saturday Night.
Everyone needs lumber tonight.
A night when my friend's family is saying a final goodbye.
"I am human and I need to be loved. Just like everybody else does."
Life is ironically trivial at times.
The night before we found out Hubs cousin died after coming up from a scuba diving expedition in Florida.
I really liked my cuz-in-law. He had a handlebar mustache, wore three piece suits and was incredibly engaging.
I am sad he is no longer here.
To make it a trifecta, a high school friend died on Friday. I liked my friend. She was kind, tenacious, and she loved her daughter with a mama bear heart. I knew her least out of many who loved her fiercely but I know the world was better with her in it. I know what her Loves face the next couple months and I hate it.
When I write, I usually listen to classical music so words do not distract me. Tonight I call upon my post punk, gothic, new wave, teen angst.
That seems to make more sense than anything 'adulty'.
Shoplifters of the World Tonight and Take Over.....Don't You Forget About Me and I'm feeling Pretty in Pink
......God Damn it...... I don't want to be a Death Doula.
Where the F*CK is my Joy Division?
I'm too young for this shit.