Anniversary...not so happy.

It’s nearing the first anniversary of my father’s death, and the third of my mother.  I think about them constantly and reflect a lot these days, which has pretty much led me to wrestle with a profound state of depression.  It’s like I feel lost.  I have the most wonderful husband and son…my family means the world to me, but it’s like their love and my love for them doesn’t fill me as it should.  That sounds crazy, I know.  However, I think I am subconsciously allowing the void of my parents’ deaths to remain in the primary bubble where I exist, shutting out everything else.  I have to really deal with their passing, but I just can’t get there.  I’m inside my head too much, and it’s beginning to take its toll on me mentally, and by extension, physically…It’s hard to get out of bed each day and TCB, which is NOT like me.  So I decided that I need to write down what I’m feeling and just get it out.  Therapy is a great option, but I can’t even speak about my feelings without crying, so why waste $$ if all I can do is sit and cry for 55 minutes.  Hopefully this will act as a catharsis for me to be able to identify my feelings, own them, talk about them, and DEAL with them.

Presently, I’m listening to “Harvest Moon” by Neil Young, which for some reason triggers for me a very specific time in my life with just me and my mom and dad; the three of us.  I was living in San Diego, and my Dad was attending a teacher’s conference in Los Angeles & Mom came with him.  We decided to meet in LA, and mom & I thought we’d do some touristy things while Dad was seminar-ing.  The highlight of the experience for my Dad was meeting Telly Savalas (who loves ya baby), Kojak himself, in of all places, the men’s room of the hotel where we were staying.  I’d never seen Dad star-struck before, and he was so giddy…hysterical about the meeting place.  Anyway, the point to my story is that after Dad’s conference, I had some time off to go north for a few days, then fly back home, so I drove with them back up to the bay area.  One of the things about my folks is that they weren’t really wanderers, but they loved to go for drives, not to see where the road took them, but to plan out a route, then go for it.  I am more of a meanderer, whimsical, spontaneous kinda gal.   

So we’re driving along the freeway, and we are nearing the Ventura Highway, and I asked them, “Ever been to SOLVANG?”  I knew this would pique their curiosity, as I knew Mom would just love it; Dad being an avid reader like me, had just finished a Dean Koontz book that took place there.  So I actually talked my parents into taking a detour on the fly, as we were driving.   

Little did I know that this would push Dad out of his comfort zone.  He would study maps BEFORE driving, so he could envision the trip.  Mom & I were chatting away, listening to the radio (Harvest Moon) and all of a sudden I felt cold – REALLY cold.  I noticed my mom had put on her sweater.  

“Are you cold mom?” I asked.  She shot me a sideways glance & motioned to my father.  

“Dad, could you turn down the A/C?  We’re freezing!” 

Well, in typical Phil fashion, here is the answer we received:  “NO.  I am driving this car.  And the DRIVER makes the decisions.  I will NOT turn down the A/C.”  

“Seriously? Look at Mom, she’s nearly shivering!”  

Dad replied, “The DAMN DRIVER takes precedence.  THE DRIVER needs to be comfortable.  I’m the DRIVER of this car!”

“What do you suggest?  It’s the middle of summer and I didn’t bring a jacket!”

“Not my problem.  It’s the DRIVER’s prerogative. I control the A/C.”

Mom & I just started laughing hysterically, at the absurdity of it all, which only served to piss my Dad off further.  

I said, “OK, the DRIVER has spoken!  I’ll just sit back here.  And if my lips turn blue, would someone do me the courtesy of giving me CPR?”  I remember there was a pillow in the back seat, and I pulled the pillowcase over my legs like a sleeping bag, and, since the driver proclaimed it was his prerogative (to serve his guests chilled), I bundled up with the pillow.

Looking back on this, I understand that my Dad was driving on an unfamiliar road, which happened to have lots of twists and turns, and he was really not comfortable as he had not studied a map of where we were headed.  He was probably sweating, which is why he wanted the air on.  But my Dad was not one to ever admit weakness, even if it risked him looking like an asshole.  I think I was one of the few people on this earth who really understood him and that’s why I could tell him to shove it one minute, and love him immensely the next. 

By the time we got to Solvang, the joy had really gone out of the experience…but we managed to pull it together and eat some pastries and see the sights. 

Wow.  That did make me feel better.

Miss you Mom & Dad.

XOXO

Philip Liston Romer

November 17, 1934 – August 13, 2011

Janis Annette (Lott) Romer

August 31, 1937 – November 12, 2009