Funeral--Realizations--Reality

Traveled back to my home town yesterday to attend the funeral of an old and dear friend.  A few familar faces and a bunch that were vaguely familar looked back at me all afternoon.  We were gathered together by the love we had for our friend--a guy who was the one you always wanted to sit by.  Never judged you.  Always encouraged you.  Could make you laugh even when you didn't want to.  And you knew he'd be there if you needed anything--especially if it was just someone to listen .

But the experience of returning to my hometown has become such a surreal event for me when I do get back there.  Almost nothing looks the same. I can't remember the names of streets or how to get to places.  Everyone I talk to remembers me and I feel like a patient on an Ahlzheimers ward.  I dont remember many of them--or at least not their names.

I think I've figured out alot of what has happened to me--and I did most of this to myself.  I have come to the conclusion that if you have too many "start overs" or "reinventions" of your self in your lifetime , it starts to "wash away" some of the clarity in your mind.

I have "reinvented" myself to survive divorce, failures and pain all through my life and frankly I thought I was pretty amazing that I could use this ability to make it through one after another crappy situation.  I thought I had a remarkable skill that made it possible for me to "bounce back" from anything over and over and over and over and over..........I think you get my point.

But I see now that with too many bounces, I have lost pieces of me along the way--maybe not lost completely--maybe just "put away" where I can't find them.  I looked at so many faces yesterday and I put names with a few--a memory or two with others and complete blankness with many.  I felt so little.

I passed by the open casket as we left the church and saw the body of my friend of my youth.  He did not look like what I remembered and I realized even though he was dead, none of us looked like we did in our youth.  That was gone, not just the appearance of youth but the feeling of joy that went with it.   Too much pain is a thief.  We are robbed of what makes us beautiful and it is not cosmetic.  I have been robbed of that easy ability to feel and express what I feel. 

Maybe I've shut things down too far and too long to go back to "normal", maybe just realizing this will put me back on track, maybe my writing will help as it did when I was in my youth with so many hopes and dreams.