Boo.
Lance died November 1st, but really, in our lives, he died late night on Halloween. Nov 1st is All Saints Day, which is a notable day to die as well, but in our life, if Lance was well and playing, he'd likely have a Halloween gig, or we would have gone to the Village Halloween parade. We'd be out well past the stroke of midnight into the next calendar day, but it would still be Halloween night to us. Boo. This was a holiday I always enjoyed, but now, I don't know, I'm not sure how I feel. As I drive to and from work passing the ever expanding front lawn Halloween displays in Union, I am reminded of just how ironic it is that he died the night he did. Halloween will forever be ironic. It's hard to escape the irony of Lance's dying on a night that is synonymous with front yard cemeteries and casual-speak about death. I suppose it's in keeping with the rest of the unbelievable story. Each and every Halloween night, regardless of whether or not I eventually embrace the holiday again, I will think of Lance and try to feel his presence, which is a most frustrating experience. Wanting to feel something, pleading for anything - proof it all really exists after we die. Waiting for a signal of faith. Until then it is still all pretty much unbelievable.
I've come to a place now where I miss Lance, yes, but I am more accustomed to his absence. I no longer expect to come home to him, and I no longer habitually grab the cell phone to call him. That happened for a while soon after he died, like I was having 10 seconds of amnesia. No more.
We are planting a tree in Lance's memory at his sister Beth's house. We picked a Japanese maple because Lance love Vater maple drumsticks, and he really loved touring in Japan. He kept in touch with a few music fans from Japan. I had a natural river rock engraved to mark the tree. the stone says "PUTT'S TREE", Putt being his family nickname. The tree's been planted for a few weeks already, but the family is gathering this Saturday to dedicate the tree to Lance and place the rock. The rock is very natural. I did not want anything that looks like a grave marker because it's not his grave - it's a memorial tree. His nephews have been watering it.
Our wedding anniversary was one week ago, Oct. 22. I was surprisingly calm, surprising because the two weeks prior I was a mess. Totally. Crying multiple times a day, miserable, angry, nervous about how I'd manage the impending hell week. I think the anticipation of these October anniversaries was in some ways more difficult than the actual days. But I shouldn't speak so soon - I haven't lived through the night of 10/31-11/01 yet. If all else fails, there's xanax. But the anniversary was OK. I went out to dinner with friends John, Jen and Jim and was able to keep a lid on things. Beth called while I was at the restaurant and she was sobbing. October 22 is her wedding anniversary, too. This was a coincidence, but we reveled at the idea of taking anniversary vacations together. It was all to be such fun. Beth was out at a restaurant having her anniversary dinner with Jimmy and was feeling bad. She worried about calling me, but ultimately felt she could not let the day pass without talking to me. She misses Lance, she feels bad for me and feels unnecessary guilt to be celebrating her anniversary on my sad anniversary day. I understand why she feels that way, but I asked her to please enjoy her dinner. I did need to hang up quick because I could be strong for only so long, and she was crying hard. Tears were welling up in my eyes and I needed to abort the call. I'm not afraid to be emotional, but I was in a restaurant with 3 other people, and I really didn't want the waterworks to begin. I feared if they did I would not be able to control it and would have to leave, so I cut the call short. She sounded relieved too. I don't begrudge them their happiness, that nonsense doesn't help anything, but I understand how bittersweet it feels for Beth. It feels that way for me, too.
posted by Lance Carter @ 11:40 PM
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