Why not?

One of several moments when I should have turned around on a long dumb dangerous drive.

I wrote this a month ago, but felt like I couldn’t quite finish the thought, so it just sat on my desktop, a taunting little text file called “why not”. So I’m just going to take my own advice and post what I’ve got. Why not?


It’s been a month since Mom died. I have made it, very much by design, a busy month.

I’m grieving, of course, but I decided I wasn’t going to let grief steal another year of my life. A friend asked me last night what it feels like when it hits. I said it feels like I’m a cartoon character who’s had an anvil dropped on my head. Just absolutely, suddenly, crushingly stunned. I’ve had to put my hands out to steady myself on walls when walking, struck by some fleeting thought, some innocent memory. So I’m grieving. But I just could not, was not going to do it balled up on my couch, alone. I grieved the loss of an old life during my divorce, grieved when mom first got her cancer diagnosis, grieved the death of a beloved teacher, the death of a best friend, the loss of friendships, of partnerships, of a cherished relationship … I’m tired from it. I don’t want to feel like the shape of my life is outlined by loss. So I knew I had to make new things, keep going, trying, fighting. And I’m doing lots of new things, things that seemed scary before. Why not?

I drove Dad’s truck back, a 2,000 mile road trip through bad weather to clear my head, because I wanted to. Why not?

I’ve shot seven rolls of film, which is seven more than I’ve ever shot in my life. And I’ve been sharing them, and bought a new old film camera, and already got some prints made and am scheming on hanging a show somewhere. I’ve always wanted to have an art show somewhere. Why not?

I wrote a new song, and memorized it, and took it out and performed it at an open mic night, which is a thing I have never done before even though it’s been a goal of mine for years. Why not?

I got a new therapist. I’d been meaning to for a year, made some half-hearted inquiries, never followed through. This time I got it done in an hour, made the appointment, went, set some goals. Why not?

I was feeling sad that I’m not better friends with someone I used to date, so I invited them to lunch on a whim and told them exactly that. Why not?

One of the last gifts Mom gave me was courage. It’s almost impossible to imagine something that will be harder than that night a month ago, watching her fade away and die and forget who she was, who we were. Which isn’t to say I’m immune to nerves, nor even especially confident – I literally shook with nerves the entire time at the open mic. But it feels like I’ve been through the worst, and lived. And, while I don’t believe this in a literal sense, I do feel Mom’s presence in my life still, encouraging me and rooting for me. I miss you like crazy, Mom. I love you bunches. Gonna keep giving ’em hell. Why not?