Care of Kyle's Grave & Little Dog Lost

I visited Kyle at Forest Lawn yesterday.

Planter care: The planter, so lovingly given by Di, is doing well. The rosemary is growing and I think you should feel free to take a piece when you visit. It smells so wonderful and it's probably best for the plant to be pruned a bit, because if it gets too unwieldy on unsightly or dies, the workers will remove the planter.

If you visit Kyle's grave, would you move the planter several inches from whatever spot it is in, enough to give the grass underneath a chance to breathe and a chance for the earwig family to scamper around and get freaked out before they move back in underneath. I had placed the planter slightly above Ky's marker, and when I picked it up the grass was yellow and the earwigs were in abundance. So I have moved it lower on the grave. Frequent moving should help keep the grass fresh.

BTW I noticed that both sticks of incense have been burnt. Kyle burnt incense all the time and carried those sticks in his bag. I am comforted thinking Kyle can smell it when it's burning, along with the rosemary. I'll bring by more next week.

I am sad to report Flynn's little bull dog has disappeared. I looked around quite a bit on others' markers and in the grass, to no avail. I knew it was inevitable, but still it is sad to have Kyle's little companion gone. I'm sorry, Flynn, but thank you for leaving your little rubber dog. It was a sweet gift.

(Hey, if he shows up again, put him in a corner of the planter. That would keep him safe.)

My Mom & Dad Were Married 60 Years Ago Today

On March 28th, 1948, my mom and dad were married at the Congregational Church in Troy, NH. Sixty years ago, this very day. They stayed at the Fitzwilliam Inn, in (duh) Fitzwilliam, New Hampshire. Ten months later I was born. They must have liked the area because in 1958 we moved to Fitzwilliam. BTW, on the card from the Inn that Mum had saved in a scrapbook, the rates in 1948 ranged from $4.50 for a single without running water to $15.00 for a double with a bath. (No comment.)

Somewhere, I have a picture of my mom and dad standing in front of the church on their wedding day. I'll find it someday and post it. Bettsy was 25 and Blair was 30. They each had a 6 year old daughter (my sisters Donna and Beverly). Dad and Mum had known each other 6 weeks. The night they met, dad told his mother he'd just met the woman he was going to marry. Well, the second woman.

I remember seeing a letter that Dad wrote to my mom. It was so sweet. That letter showed me that, in spite of how he often treated my mom badly, he had started out completely devoted. They had a lot of fun. They had 4 kids together. And they had a rocky marriage. Dad could be verbally abusive, Mom could be amazingly passive aggressive. When I wonder how they got together, I think of that sweet letter.

On my trip back east to see her, Miranda said, again, that she couldn't understand why her dad and I ever got married. I was surprised. Gear and I had a lot in common and a good marriage for years. How could she not remember? In fact, at the age of ten, Miranda was completely surprised when we separated, because we never argued in front of her and her brother. Now, 16 years after the separation, she looks as us and can't figure out how we could ever have been together. That seemed so odd. I rattled off a list of the things we had in common, the many things we both loved to do, the things we saw eye to eye on. I'm not sure I got through to her. It's hard for kids to get their parents. And as hard as it is for our kids to understand us, it was that hard for me and my sibs to understand our parents' relationship.

The one thing I am sure about is that Blair and Bettsy would have loved seeing their grandkids. They would have adored this crew. They did know Robin and Melanie and Pete and Tim and Katie. But Dad died in 1979 and didn't know any of the grandchildren that would come of his marriage to Mum. And Mum died in 1982 when Miranda was 4 months old. So my parents have missed out on knowing Miranda, Rhea, Kyle, Devon, Elizabeth, Siena, and William. And they missed out on their great-grandchildren Alicia, Kiersten, and Nickolas--as well as Pete, Tim, and Katie's children. And that is a shame, cause this generation of kids is wonderful. My dad loved smart kids and he would have been blown away by this crew. And they both would have been impressed by each and every one of their grandchildren: how beautiful, how nice, how sweet, how loving, how funny, and how delightful they are.

And I think they would have loved Kyle. Kyle who had the biggest heart of all. Kyle, who appreciated family more than any kid I've ever known. Kyle who would grow as tall as a tree. Kyle with the magnificent hands. Kyle with the exquisite face that seemed to have McLeod and Whitham and Campbell and Price in equal amounts. Kyle who read and kept up on sports and sought out the news and understood world events. Kyle who was such a good friend and such a dear son.

And maybe the joke is on me. Maybe Blair and Betts and Kyle and all the generations who have gone before are hanging out together in the great unknown. Getting to know each other, the older folks really enjoying Kyle and feeling so bad for us because we have lost him, and knowing that our tragic loss is their gain. And in the clear light of day, I don't believe that one whit. But it's not the clear light of day. It's late night now. And I'll entertain anything.

Happy anniversary, Mum and Dad. You two have formed a multitude. And we are grateful and we honor you and we miss you so very very much.

With all my love,

Your daughter,

Cindy

happy easter

last easter Kyle was home and we went to the Harewoods. Dorian, Nancy, Gramma Ruth, Johnnie, sister Laurie and her kids were there. it was a lovely day together. Nancy cooked a fantastic meal (as she always does) and Kyle enjoyed every bite (as he always did). the few pictures we have are the last i took of Kyle. it is easter and it is spring again. kyle isn't with us and we miss him and his joy and his love.

No, not again! Tax AND work deadlines!

yes. i'm up to my ears today, sunday, easter even, working on a project. it's editing, so it's not taxing (like the taxes). but it has to be done and i'm being paid, so other than robbing my life of it's very essence, it's not bad.

and of course there is the T word. my appointment is april 11. if you look at a calendar it seems a long way away. but it's not. it's tomorrow practically. and with other deadlines and work work work, will i find the time to find enough receipts to ward off paying more taxes and penalties?

on the good side i had a wonderful time on my whirlwind weekend in NYC. saw dear friends (and former roommates) Leslie Hurley and Judy Copeland and saw Judy Flynn and David Kneuss from BU.

had a terrific girls' happy hour with miranda and met several of her friends, all of whom are delightful. met m & j's roommate Justin very briefly. saw The Homecoming with Katie and Dominique and M & J and it gave us great fodder for our post-play drink. the interpretation of the boxer brother Joey as pretty brain-damaged was right on target. i still am trying to figure out Ruth's motivation for leaving her children (leaving her self-important husband Teddy makes sense); when i played Ruth back in 1969, i didn't know enough about life to get how bizarre that way. given the sparse script, i'm not sure if any actress can make that believable-- particularly for mothers sitting in the audience.

we also went to the New Museum, the boxes building, and saw the exhibit "Unmonumental" which I keep referring to as "Unmemorable." altho a few other the sculptures or media pieces were engaging, i most enjoyed the view from the street of the building of boxes stacked against the sky and at the panorama from the top floor. looking over the bowery rooftops, seeing the hodge podge of textures, variety of architecture-- it occurred to me that the collection of bizarre junk (truly much of the exhibit was made of trash) inside reflected the outside city. but the exhibit made me feel i am just out of it, because if some of this stuff is art, i should forget about throwing away my recyclables and start glueing. maybe i'll reread the brochure and see if i can figure out what i am supposed to feel about "Unmonumental."

the best part was seeing Miranda, certainly. since it was the start of spring break she could afford a weekend trailing about with her mom. i do wish we lived closer. the best thing would be to have little visits more frequently. i wonder as i get older whether i will want to live on the east coast again. and yet, it's hot and bright and beautiful in LA this morning, and there is a pool downstairs waiting to see if i'll get enough work done to take a break.

Blog Junk ?

okay now i've received 2 comments to my blogs which say, "click here," and i clicked it once and it leads to an ad or something, can't remember, that's how memorable it was. the second one i deleted without clicking "here" or anywhere. then i clicked on "delete forever" with great satisfaction.

obviously these are junk mail type things. i would hate to think someone would have the nerve to junk a grieving mother's blog.

but just in case:

in a shout-out to JUNKERS & JUNKETTES:

have a little class, will ya?

Tripping

well there is a reunion party in New York City next Friday, the 14th, of Boston University School of Fine and Applied Arts attendees from (roughly) 1969 to 1976. i was there 67-70 and 71-72.

the gap was due to a drop out following Kent State and a "sabbatical" year spent first in Omaha with the Magic Theatre, then in Santa Rosa for 9 months, and finally in Honolulu for a month working in a "play" in a "theatre" that is best left undescribed and never put on a resume. but enough about the gap year.

i got a snail mail copy of an email describing the get together. the email address list is long and almost indecipherable. but i did find addresses for two former roommates and at least one old boyfriend. so i've been corresponding and will see Judy Copeland (Cohn) who introduced Gearey and me to each other, so is directly responsible for hooking me up with (among other things) some really good DNA for my babies.

and hearing about the BU Theatre Arts Wrap Party has helped me avoid doing my taxes which are due again (all those previous tax references are for my October filing last year--I'm trying to do my taxes on time this year). so i've spent time emailing friends from 35 years ago, sending pictures, and going down memory lane.

i'll go to the "wrap party," hole up in a $100/night B&B-type place in the East Village, take Miranda, Joshua, Katie, and Dominque to Pinter's The Homecoming--which will also be a trip down memory lane as I played Ruth in a summerstock production in 1969 in Cape Elizabeth, Maine. avoiding taxes further, i googled Downeast Players and came up with this link to a diary of a guy's summerstock experience as musical director at that theatre. if you do a "find" for "cynthia" you'll find a one line review of my performance as Ruth. the wonders of 21st century technology! true time travel.

at christmas with her in NYC, miranda said that i should "do like Aunt Della" and come to NYC more frequently in short stints. long trips wear out everyone no matter how much you love them, and she is exactly right: occasional brief wonderful visits make complete sense. as a certified member of the New England WASP Delay-Your-Gratification Club i have postponed various kinds of indulgence (see? i even call visiting my only child INDULGENCE!) for years, waiting until i have enough money or until otherwise feel deserving. but this is Life After Losing Kyle--and my priorities have changed. this is where my impulsivity gets free reign. i get to take a weekend junket.


i'm excited.

mother load

the mailbox tonight brought more hard news.
the recipient of kyle's lungs has died.
the letter from the donor people just said that he "experienced a decline in health" and that's all i know. except i remember that he came from Los Angeles and that his operation may have been done at Cedars. it hit me hard. i had felt like i was losing kyle all over again.

but that happened tonight.
this morning, when i was driving to Forest Lawn i had an image of Kyle's body starting to decay and it took me by surprise. i'm sorry for bringing this up; i know it's grotesque. i've entertained a similar thought before and it hadn't bothered me so much but this morning it was more real and i was horrified.

in the process of losing kyle, i find myself running toward or even embracing what might be off-putting. i have no choice. i haven't had a choice since the phone call. i pushed headlong toward the truth. "is he going to die?" i asked gearey directly. in the hospital i had to touch and kiss his wounded face. i had to wash his feet and hands and clean his nails. at the grave, i had to stay to see my son descend into the earth. i had to interpret every word in the ambulance bill and i had to read every page of the autopsy report (only once, though. then i put it back in the envelope and won't read it for a long time). when i asked gear if he read the report, he said "just some of it, i couldn't read it all. why would i want to? no."

i know i will visit the train station some day. i will meet with the detective and see the place he fell. i will touch the cold cement platform. i will search for signs of blood. and i will seek out the emergency technicians. and i may go back to the hospital.

what is this need? i'm not sure. part of it, though, is that kyle went through all of this by himself. he climbed, he fell, he was sped in the ambulance to the hospital, he was put on the respirator, he was taken off, he was pronounced dead, he was relieved of his organs, he had the autopsy, he was picked up by the mortuary and brought to LA in a refrigerated vehicle, he was dressed and laid in the coffin, and he was buried in the ground.

the least his mom can do--if she can't be there for him at every moment--is to learn as much as she can about it all. a mother cannot shirk from this. or at least this mother cannot.

today when i reached kyle's grave, there was the lovely wooden box of plants which ky's Aunt Di had placed next to the marker. the most prominent plant was the fragrant rosemary. i was glad she put in rosemary, as we often had rosemary growing at the house. i remembered how much we all loved hot rosemary bread. all the images that had troubled me earlier were long gone. i lit one of kyle's sticks of incense and placed it in the planter.