The Aftermath

Thursday was the wake and Friday was his funeral.

I’m an avoider when it comes to tragedies.  I avoid the person(s) affected by it.  I don’t want to sound annoying or make things worse by saying the wrong thing.  It’s a bit selfish on my part.  But I talked to my cousin Becky and she had that same worry; “The biggest thing I’m afraid of is people avoiding me because they don’t know what to say or are scared of talking to me.  There’s nothing to say, they don’t have to say anything.”

It’s like she read my mind.

I’ve never seen so many people at a wake or a funeral before.  My Dad said “that’s what happens when a young one dies.”   Everyone shows up.  Even my brothers ex-girlfriend.  The one he bought his spa from.

Her – “I’m suing your brother.”

Me – “I don’t know anything about that.  It’s none of my business.”

I actually did know about it.

She said this at the wake while I was standing in line to say my farewell’s to my little cousin/nephew in his casket.  I mean come on now…..she talked to me until it was my turn to kneel.  Where’s the class?  Can’t she read the room?  Talking shit about my brother at a funeral for a two-year old….

It rained the next day on his funeral.  We went to the church and then the cemetery.  Since it was raining, instead of us being outside, they held it inside – in a round marble vestibule type place at the cemetery. My dad knew the proper term for it but I forgot it.

We couldn’t all fit in.

The saddest part of the two days were inside that marble vestibule.  Nobody wasn’t crying.  Every single person shed tears.

Family member making a speech – “He liked superman, spiderman and batman…..”

He got choked up and had to stop.  That’s when everyone lost their shit and couldn’t keep it in.

Me and my Dad were just outside the door.  The memorial ended and people were getting up to touch the casket and filter out.

Dad – “I can’t go in there.”

He had tears in his eyes and couldn’t bring himself to step inside for fear he’d break.  I knew exactly how he felt (I’m exactly like my Dad).  Once I break, I don’t just cry, I wail with my mouth wide open.  It makes things worse.  Plus my Dad, who NEVER cries – to see him cry would also make things worse.

Me – “I can’t either.”

But I had to see the casket just one last time.  I felt by just looking at it was enough to say good-bye.  You don’t understand, I HAD to see it.

They held the after-party at the PBA which our family holds all its big gatherings.  I can’t say I had fun (due to the circumstances) but I enjoyed seeing everyone.  I didn’t enjoy being hit on by my Aunt Laura’s sisters son.  My Aunt Laura is my Dad’s brother’s wife, so there’s no relation, but still….

Him – “I’m single, you’re single.  How is it that two awesome people like us are single?”

Me – “I actually love being single.  I can’t help it.  I wouldn’t be able to cope with what Becky is going through.  I’d rather not deal with anything.”

Him – “I love how honest you are.”

Me – “I’m a weirdo.”

We talked for a few hours, had a few beers, I got to talk with everyone and then my Dad drove us home because he couldn’t drink anymore without getting plastered.

I was wiped when I got home and fell asleep at 7:00PM.  When I woke up at midnight I didn’t know what the hell was going on or what day it was, or why I wasn’t in work….etc.  I actually love that feeling.

This is my first week of retirement but I still had to give massages.  It’s still a bit busy and my therapist sliced her thumb open and needed surgery.

As for Becky and her husband, she’s a stay-at-home mom and her husband got fired for running over his kid with the company car.  FIRED!?  Can you believe it?

And I’m completely useless.  I have no money, I’m in debt, being sued.  I can’t help anyone.  In fact, I picked the worst possible time to go to Italy.  I don’t think the business can make it to the end of this month without having to go into my personal line of credit.  It’s a scary time for me.

Last night I dreamt I was eating paper money in order to keep it safe so no one can steal it, and I wouldn’t be able to spend it frivolously.  But then I realized I’ll never get it back once I ate it.  I felt stupid for wasting it.

Anyway, I should get going.  I have a client.  And I have to go to the store and to the bank.  It’s just that, when I get scared like this, I’m completely immobile.  The only thing that comforts me is knowing that I wouldn’t be in financial trouble if I didn’t pay off $5000 of debt last month.  Or spend $500 on euro’s and $400 on hotels, or pay off $38,000 of debt last year – I’d be okay.  Which means that the business will be okay.  But then I think about the lawsuit and I’m back at square one, worrying myself all over again.

I want to know when life will start getting good.  Where’s the good part?  Why put ourselves through all this shit only to die in the end?

And my persona ebbs away with each massage I give….

What would make me happy right now?

1- For the lawsuit to be over

2- For the last of my debt, $12,500, to be paid

3-  To not massage anymore.

Number 3 is virtually here.

Number 2 will be dealt with by October.  Two of my therapists, Adonis and Austin, are both taking June and July off which is fine by me since it’s slow.  August (when they come back) I’ll sell groupons again and the remainder of my debt will be paid off by October, if not sooner.

As for number 1….I have no clue what’s going on with number 1.

It’s a class action lawsuit which means the lawyer of the people suing me would like to get it over with quickly.  She follows the money.  By prolonging it, she’s wasting her time.  Class action lawyers don’t get paid unless they win.

It’s really just number one on my list, the lawsuit, that is stealing my happiness.  I wouldn’t be worried about my debt, or about dipping into my personal line of credit if it didn’t tie in with this lawsuit.  But it does tie in with it.  And if 1 & 2 aren’t taken care of, #3 will be affected as well.

I need to end this post.  I’m rambling.

Leave a comment

Filed under journal

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s