April 18th... Birth, Death, New Hopes and Old Fears...

Simply waking up I was glad to be alive. The two week run of "Meet My Husbands" was over and I was going to miss Grant Griswold in some strange way. Even more so, I was going to miss the incredible group of actors that taught me so much over the 6 weeks we worked on the production. We put a lot of work into the Fred Michael creation and judging by the crowd reaction, the Director's vision translated nicely through our interpretation on stage. A few of the players, I am sure, will become long time friends. Some I am hopeful to run into on other stages in other places. After the production wrapped we struck the set and I stayed for a Stage Combat Workshop offered by the guild with fellow actors Sean Nordsell and Devon Ford.

April 18th is the date of my departed grandmother's birthday. You may remember from my earlier chapters that she was like a mother to me, while my mom worked, and that she passed in my presence. Monday, April 18, 2011 was also the day that I was going to be attending the memorial service for my aunt Kay. She was my grandmother's niece. The morning was cold. The sun was out and I was exhausted and hadn't even gotten out of bed.

My feelings were drawn to what my cousin Johnny must be feeling. Aunt Kay had passed a few months earlier in hospice care, like my father. She went home with dignity and grace, surrounded by loved ones and never felt sorry for herself once. My aunt loved the color black and could give Johnny Cash a run for his money when it came to the color. From clothes to napkins, furniture to dishes, Aunt Kay had the "black market" covered. Johnny was stoic and hid behind smiles as we arrived at the memorial in Evergreen Park. I drove up there with my sister and mother. It was a nice trip, reminiscing and talking about Aunt Kay and singing theme songs from old shows like "The Magic Door" and "HR Puffnstuff."

My sister Chris said I was still grieving over the death of my father. I was confused. She pointed out that I was frequently posting pictures of him at Bear games and uploading "deep" songs from YouTube. I shrugged it off, but didn't disagree. When Johnny brought in the urn and photo of his mom and dad it all came rushing back to me. I was right back to my dad's service and standing in Johnny's shoes. I felt my heart race and my skin get clammy. Tears welled up in my eyes and I wanted to burst out of the chapel and run, to where I don't know. The service was beautiful. Family and friends told stories about Aunt Kay and we laughed and cried. I saw her smiling in heaven and chuckling a bit. She always snorted at the end of her laugh. It was priceless.

We returned to Aunt Kay's and Johnny's place for the post memorial party and everyone began to eat, drink and be merry. I ate and decided that as emotionally fragile as I was feeling, I had better go or I might decide to have "just one." If I took a drink there would definitely be more, that I was certain of. I said my goodbyes, hugged Johnny and began the journey back to Plainfield. A nap was sure to relax me and get me back on a level plane.

My phone rang. It was a Chicago number. I had been waiting for a call to do a film being shot this weekend called "Lo Stronzo" and was certain that was who was calling. I pulled the car over and called back the number. To my surprise and amazement it wasn't a call for "Lo Stronzo" but a "rush" call for a new TV series being shot in the city. They wanted me in the city immediately to audition. The day was getting crazier by the second. I flew home, changed clothes, prepaid for gas, forgot to put the gas in and made it up to the city for the audition. I think it went well. I did my best. I met a lovely group of people and the rest is up to casting and directors.

Inching my way through rush hour traffic I couldn't help but think of what a bizarre day it was. I was glad it was coming to an end. I arrived home to 3 pee filled psychotic dogs. As I checked my emails I saw that I had gotten the role in "Lo Stronzo." Being unemployed, a callback from the TV series would have made the day perfect but God had a different curve ball to toss at me that night. My happiness at landing the film was replaced by fear, anger, sadness and helplessness.

My son was making lots of calls on his cell and was angry. I stopped him and made him sit and talk with me. Sunny, my middle daughter, who was just coming up on 6 weeks of clean times was with some
"friends" that weren't a great influence on her. My first instinct was to go grab my Louisville Slugger and try some "Walking Tall" justice on these guys, but that only works in the movies. I told my son to cool down and wait for Mom to get home. We would go get her together. I was talking like a big boy. Wow, what a concept.

Of course I played the conversations over and over in my head. The "why?" and "how could you's?" flew through me. I knew why; because she has a problem. Yelling wasn't going to make it better or go away. It was going to make her shut down or run. I've been there and I've done that. We picked her up and took her home. We talked about her withdrawing from recovery meetings and people in recovery and that she was setting herself up for that day long before it got there. I gave her my infamous "Show me your friends and I'll show you your future speech." This time she understood. I didn't rush her to rehab and scream at the moon. Yes, there are some consequences and rules she must now follow by our demand, not suggestion. When a duck acts like a duck I have learned not to be surprised. We set ourselves up for unrealistic expectations when we expect the duck to become a swan, especially in such a short time.

That night, as I lay in bed, I truly felt as if I had spent an entire lifetime that day. There was birth, death and reliving the loss of my father in July and my aunt in December. There was the hope and excitement of a film landed and a possible long term job on a TV series. I felt the temptation and urge of taking the first drink after the memorial service and saw my daughter slip into a temporary set back. It was one heck of a day and I made it through sober.

No where in the bible or spiritual book does it promise that life is going to be easy. It doesn't promise that we will always get what we want or that people will do as we wish. It says nothing about our hearts not being broken a thousand times. They all lived happily ever after is for fairy tales. These books do say though that we can make it through life reasonably sane and happy on faith and love and that we are not alone. That is the key. We have each other to laugh, cry, fight and love with. I am truly grateful that I am not alone any more. God Bless....