“I so miss hope. I miss it like a person. I have some hope but not hope like I had. I don’t think I will ever have that again.” I explained to him.
“Are you thinking a lot about Chicago lately?” Igor asked.
“Not a lot, but we are getting close to the Fourth of July.”
“The Fourth?” he asked in a way that he reminded me that he was not born in this country.
“Because of the parade. The 4th of July parade. We lived on the parade route in Lake Bluff and we had a party and everyone had a party. I really loved it. It was so nice. And here there is nothing. There is nothing that is mine.”
“It was like you belonged in Lake Bluff? You belonged to something and you didn’t have to do anything to create it.”
“Yeah. It was like it was all there. It was like a set. The houses, the trees, the backdrop. It was all there and I didn’t have to do anything to be happy in it. It was all ready for me. Sure, I needed some actors(babies) to make the story complete. It was like living in a Ralph Lauren dream and I just wanted to stay in that dream forever,” I explained.
“You could just walk in and live the dream.”"
Audible sigh and the beginning of tears.
Igor handed me tissues. He always hands me two. Today he handed me three.
“I miss feeling that way.”
“All your dependency needs were met. You just had to show up and it was all there, this sense of being at home. There was nothing you had to do to make it perfect. It just was.”
I thought he was inferring that this was unhealthy. “Yeah, but I never had it and I deserve it. Everyone deserves it. I should have had this experience as a baby and I didn’t. I deserved it.
I was relieved that he wasn’t trying to tell me that it was unhealthy.
“Nothing ever felt the way living there did. Nothing.”
“What about loving He-weasel?”
As soon as he said it I thought my head would explode. It was like we were talking about architecture and then he wanted me to compare and contrast how peach ice cream is like a modernist building. My mind couldn’t make the leap.
I told him so. “I have a block around this. It is like I can’t think of both feelings at the same time.”
I turned my head away from Igor and I shut my eyes and I tried to think of both things: 1)How I feel in Lake Bluff and 2) How I feel with He-weasel. At first I thought there was something wrong and that he was saying so. Maybe it’s bad that I can’t feel the way I feel in Lake Bluff all the time with He-weasel. I tried not to panic.
Then I knew the answer. I do feel that way with He-weasel and I feel all the love and the connection and a sense that there is nothing I have to do to keep it and then I panic. I can’t tell He-weasel. If I tell him I will lose him. I reminded Igor of the time I felt so much love for He-weasel, the time I was driving and I become so filled with love that I couldn’t contain it and I wanted to call and tell him how much I loved him. As soon as I had the thought I had another one, “If I tell him he will die.”
I think that unconsciously do my best to not let him know how much I love him as I have evidence that if I show someone how much I love them everything turns to crap so it is better not to fully show it or even feel it.
I told my mother how much I loved her when I was little. I told I her I loved her so much that I wanted to die before her. And then everything went wrong and for years and years I was unable to love her.
June 28th, 2010 update:
Next week is the Fourth and I still miss Lake Bluff. It is the 100 year anniversary of the parade and no doubt it will be even more special than usual. I am sorry I will not be there. I am sorry that we will not be hosting a party and that today I am not making a grocery list and looking for recipes for granola and wondering if I should make Bloody Marys or not.
I occasionally still get hit with that feeling…that feeling of “I can’t believe we are here in L.A.” or “this feels like a bad dream.” Mostly I don’t. There are days I am even happy that I am here and the more I am here the more I can’t imagine dealing with the ice or the snow again. I am building my practice here and I am looking for homes and neither of these actions bring the anxiety that they once did. There are other days when I still ache for the place that was going to be the place we were going to have a family. There are days I feel expelled by a dark god and on those days I envy all the happy families that are living the life in Lake Bluff that I so desperately wanted and I wonder what I did that caused my expulsion from Eden.
Two years ago this week is when we arrived back in L.A. We went to my mother’s to visit and we spent the Fourth with her and I was inconsolable in my grief. I wouldn’t go out and watch fireworks or eat a hot dog or do anything that in anyway acknowledged that it was this countries birthday—it hurt too much. The contrast of here and there was too great.
Next week we are spending this Fourth at my mother’s. I am choosing to do this, no one is making me. The reason I have made these plans, I am telling myself and her, is because I don’t want to be in Valencia because there are too many fireworks and the noise bothers Lily’s ears. I wonder if there is another reason beyond the obvious.
Maybe this has something to do with it: For as long as I can remember whenever I would leave my mother’s house I would not be able to feel my ability to love. I couldn’t feel love for anyone for 24-48 hours. My heart would stop functioning. The last time I was there I it didn’t happen. I left and I could still feel love. And that was before the insights that came in our conversation about her father. Ever since then I have felt a love for her that I haven’t felt since I was a little girl and I was worried that she might die before me.
Oh, and, in the spirit of rambling free association which seems to be the hallmark of this post, I have lately felt this totally overwhelming sense of love for Lily. Really, it has shocked me how much I love her. I know that you know I love her—but every day I love her MORE. Sometimes I think that it is impossible to love her more than that but then the next day I find that I do. As my love has grown so has my anxiety. There has been a pre-verbal wordless dread that I feel each time I feel the love for her that has slowly percolated up to my temporal lobe and words have slowly formed out of a hot soup of feeling. One noodley letter at a time. “B” came first and then a “u” and next a “t”…weeks later a full sentence arrived, “But she will die.” Strangely that phrase coming together in my consciousness has only made me love her more.
All that said, just today He-weasel and I were walking in Valencia and we were talking about how much Lily would have loved our backyard in Lake Bluff and how she would have loved the parade. And how much we would love taking her to the beach at the Bluff. She would have loved it all.
Note on the title of this post: ‘The Love Parade” was the name of James Leer’s book in the Wonder Boys. I love that movie. And as I was writing this post the title came to mind—but I do have to give credit where it’s due.