This poem was inspired by the prompt given over at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads: Skyflower Saturday - Untitled We were to select one of the works of artist Felix Gonzalez-Torres for our inspiration. I chose "Untitled" (Portrait of Ross in L.A.). The piece was intended as "an allegorical representation of the artist’s partner, Ross Laycock, who died of an AIDS-related illness in 1991." The description reminded me very much of an old friend who had passed away due to Lou Gherig's Disease (ALS) and today happens to be his birthday. He would have been forty six this year.
Liner Note: This post is part of Imaginary Gardens For Real Toad's September 2015 post, where we were asked to select a poem of one of the young writers Kerry teaches as inspiration for our poem and help them to complete their target of 300 poems in 30 days. I was inspired by Farewell by Nishka Ramkhelawan, using the line "It was not a beautiful death" as my inspiration. Friends and long time readers may have guessed by now it was also inspired by the death of a good friend, just about two years ago from ALS, better known as Lou Gherig's disease.
Its funny how some things can change - and how some things can still sting almost a year later. With fall beginning to bleed into August with this cooler than average weather, I started thinking about the events of last October and of course Samhain and honoring the memories of the ones I've lost.
Then I saw an old college friend of mine do something incredibly silly on Facebook. He dumped a bucket of cold water over his head as part of something called the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge. I asked what that was and he kindly pointed me to a link explaining it.
Let's get something straight: I. Hate. Cold.
My husband calls me as a lizard and says I have the shower set to Mordor. I complain about cold in the winter and when I get the inevitable nagging about how I'll wish for the cold in the oven that is PA in the summer, I can laugh and say, "Oh no I won't). I love the seasons. I love the stark beauty of winter - from inside with a thick sweater and a big mug o' tea or if I must go outside, warm boots, thick scarves and many, many layers.
I have no reason to do this stupid thing. Since Mike's diagnosis I've contributed regularly to ALS and ALS related causes. And then I remembered the words Mike wanted us to remember.
"It's OK. I laughed a lot"
*sigh*
So I gritted my teeth, got the clothes to change into afterwards ready, got one kid to hold a towel while the other kid videoed and just did it.
In related news, dolphins in the Atlantic reported headaches from my high pitched scream
There is no question this is a silly, rather childish thing to do. And as one friend warned me, not entirely safe (I did check with other health care professionals who had done the challenge and they said there were risks, but slight ones. You could get bruised or lacerated by the falling ice. If you have specific conditions with your thyroid or your heart you really should talk to your doctor before trying this). But it turns out there are a lot of very silly people, who like me donated as well as took an ice water shower. Donations towards ALS research have skyrocketed. People are becoming more aware about what this horrible disease does.
And because I do believe in an afterlife, I feel that somewhere Mike is still laughing and then doubling over again with laughter because of who I tagged (like you thought I wouldn't get payback after your bragging about your relaxing vacation. Keep laughing through the ice shower Vineyard Boy!).
I'm glad you laughed a lot while you lived bro. I'll do my best to keep the laughs coming. That's my tribute to you, silly as it is.
This post is the first of 2 postings for Magaly Guerrero's All Hallow's Grim 2013 blog party
My mother in law told me when I got married that I didn't get one guy; I got a slew of them. You see for most of his life my husband had a tight knit group of friends. They were around so much that I started referring to our first apartment as a home for wayward boys. I suppose I could have gotten sick of them all, but the thing was I liked my husband's buddies and as time went on his long time friends became my friends as well.
The one that he had the longest was Mike. The became friends when they were around 8, when they snuck out of a Yom Kippur service geared for little kids to find a big box of Hershey's chocolate bars and proceed to eat them. Yes, this is a big no-no on Yom Kippur - but then again, there was Mike...
"Then again, there was Mike..." was a phrase that made it into lots of funny stories. There was the time Mike needed a middle of the night pick up at a Dunkin Donuts off of a highway because his car broke down. He was still wearing medieval garb from the wedding he attended when he looked at my husband and said, "They sure do get a lot of weirdos here at this time of night." There was the time he got a bit tipsy during his bachelor party and volunteered to see if the fluid dripping out his car was anti-freeze by tasting it (Mike never did have much luck with cars). There was the time we (OK me) got tipsy on Strongbow at my 30th birthday party (hard apple cider is awesome BTW).
Then there was that time Mike tried to get his friend to ask out this curly headed girl he crushed on. His friend was still too shy, so Mike went right to the girl and told him about his friend's feelings. Even when Mike told me, I was still a bit nervous, but I approached his friend and we've been together over 20 years now. My mother in law also told me never to tell that story to my father in law, as he still hasn't quite gotten over the fact that the kid who got his son to eat half a carton of chocolates on Yom Kippur was the same one who got his son to date and marry a shiksa.
Someone at work asked my husband to describe Mike in one word. "Brave," is what he said. Although, goofball is what first came to my mind, after talking about it with my husband, brave was indeed a good word. Mike was always up to try something new, no matter how weird or how likely it was he might stink at it. It cracks me up that the guy who could be counted upon to spill whatever he was having on that little rug in my first apartment at one point did ballroom dancing and was a skilled juggler. He had a lot of hobbies; Mike could never stand to be bored too long. He was a voracious reader with a keen mind. My gods, how that man could drive people crazy in an argument - he loved a lively debate. Those made him laugh. I'll never forget his laugh or how I felt the day I found out Lou Gherig's Disease (ALS) would eventually take that laugh and his life away. Brave. Yes, those last horrible years, he was very brave.
I've cried a lot since the funeral. I've been angry too. (Why didn't I make more time to visit the man my husband and I loved like a brother more often at his nursing home? Why didn't I make more time when he was still well? Oh our families vacationed together every summer and the guys got together regularly for old school table top gaming, but there should have been more time.) I've listened to a lot of sad songs too, not bothering to hold back the additional tears. But then I remember Mike, who wanted those present at his funeral to hear these words from him when he was near the end of his illness "Don't worry. I laughed a lot." He would roll his eyes at sad songs and sobriety. I think of all the moments that occurred during the funeral - among his favorites would have been the giggle loop my husband and another close friend of ours got into during the moment of silence. That friend lamented "What does it say about me that one of themost hilarious moments of my life happened at my best friend's funeral? And knowing Michael would have approved?"
I think it says that his and all of our lives were much better, and much more fun, for having known Mike.
So now that I'm at the song portion of my post, I know that sad songs are just not going to cut it. These next two came up on the radio for me this last week and they made me think of who Mike was while he was here on earth. The first one is a homage to another funny man, Andy Kaufman - REM's Man on the Moon. Bits of the lyrics make me think of card and board games we played when were young and had all the time in the world. They also make me think of Mike's wit and skeptical side.
The second is Steve Miller Band's The Joker, because well, that's what he was in our group.
And, as my husband pointed out, Mike would have gotten a kick out of this one...
I know I was supposed to share a bit of writing today, but recently I got some devastating news. A very close friend of my family is very near the end of his fight with Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS),more commonly known as Lou Gherig's Disease.
Here is a good explanation of what the disease's course is. It's very factual and clinical. However as someone who has watched someone who is like a brother go through this illness, that description doesn't convey what happens; this video comes closest...
Metallica's One
I'm reevaluating some things in my life. At this point the most important thing is to be there for his family as well as mine. Our families are very close. My husband is hurting very deeply and although I haven't told the children yet (that will happen tonight) I know they will be very heartsick as well. I'm not planning to give up writing - I think I'll find that quite therapeutic - but I'm trying to release what I can so I can focus on what's important.
