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.

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.

Countdown to 2008

When I turned 7 years old, my dad told me 7 was a very special year and from that point on, I considered 7 my lucky number.

It turned out my dad was wrong. Kyle died in the 7th month of the year 2007. Although he was officially pronounced dead on the 6th, his respirator was turned off and his organs were taken in the earliest hours of the 7th. In fact, his last phone call was just about at 7pm. His accident was within minutes after. I remember looking up at the clock at UCLA where I was running a parenting group and it said 7:01. The group was supposed to end at 6:45, but I tend to run over, trying to give folks every bit of wisdom I can muster. But I felt a strong urgency to stop right then.

I met my friend Marylou and sister Sallie for dinner. I was a misery. Looking at the tiny table, the cramped chairs, the loudly colored images on the flat screened TV on the wall above, I actually said to them, "I don't see a way I can be comfortable." I went to the bathroom. I said out loud, "Cyn, what the hell is the matter with you?" I returned to the table. Apologized and sat down. I had a hard time ordering. My conversation was forced. Later I found out, Marylou thought I was angry at them. At a place they were both so excited to show me. Korean barbeque. Sizzling bits of beef and vegetables. Perfect for my perennial diet. But the food tasted strange. My mood was disturbed and disturbing. Nothing was right.

I had left my cell phone in the car. I rarely do that. Normally I think, "if there's a hold-up, if the roof collapses in an earthquake, I want to have my cell phone." But the phone had run out of juice. I didn't hear the 15 calls from Sean, Gearey, Licie, everyone. Not until I was driving away with Sallie did the phone ring again with Gearey telling me to stop driving the car. That was how it happened.

There may be other bad years to come, but 2007 is bound to stand out as the very worst.

2008 will be better. But I'm afraid of that. I picture learning to live with the grief, but I wonder -- as grief's sharp edges dull, will Kyle fade in my memory? Will the pictures in my mind reduce to the photos around me and the ones on the slide show? Will I eventually capture on this blog all the stories about Kyle, so that my love and memory of him will be no longer boundless, but a completed set of images within a frame? If I write a book about Kyle some day, will that reduce him to a collection of words on a limited number of pages between the covers? I find these possibilities heartbreaking.

But 2008 will be the year I accept Kyle's death. It will be the year I return to sanity. It will be the year I (and I do hate this phrase) move on. It will be the year I start to forget. I guess 2008 won't be so great.

I am sorry for this post. I know I don't need to apologize, but I had meant to blog about the peace I have been feeling and the spiritual strength and love and connection that is growing among my family members. I wanted to talk about having a lovely Christmas with Miranda in NYC and staying at Gail's house in Brooklyn and going to the best party on Christmas eve at the home of 3 wonderful Greek sisters who had married wonderful Italian men and all had had daughters, so the place was rocking with 3 generations of folks and great fun and food. And I wanted to talk about the plays Miranda and I saw. And I wanted to brag about my 22 pounds of weight loss and fitting into smaller clothing. I wanted to share that I am not in the excruciating place I had been in. But I guess that will be for my first blog in the new year.

Meanwhile, don't let this get you down. I think I just needed a few minutes of thinking about Kyle and mourning a little, before heading out to a party with my BF and welcoming the new year. Everything's gonna be alright. It's gonna be "All good." Right, Ky?

So have a Happy New Year. I will. I promise.