July 13th is Coming
Remembering This First Year. Permission to feel joy. No plans allowed. Getting lost on purpose. Water. Dreams. Memories. Love.
The First Year
When I finally fall asleep, I dream only of water and outer space. When I awake, I am stuck in a spiral panic about how little I have accomplished by this age. Age and time have me by the throat, as does the need to do-do-do (and beating myself up for not doing more). This has been a year I cannot remember most of, but I remember every detail, every breath, every moment and movement that happened last July 13th.
How does one celebrate the day their mom died? I don’t think my mom would want us to celebrate. Her birthday, though? That’s when we get together. Right? But maybe on July 13th we will get fro-yo, hike, swim, watch something, eat popcorn…do the things she loved? Maybe I will find energy to ask my friends in Denver to gather with me somewhere. We can plant flower seeds. We can toast her with Sauv Blanc. We can replenish and beautify her alter. We can scatter more ashes in more water. Or, I can go hide and get a massage…
As July 13th quickly approaches, I sit here ready to admit that my most important accomplishments are invisible. Like, I made it through this year alive. And it doesn’t matter, anyway. If I were to die in a month, I would not worry about the unfinished book or TV show or awards or money. I would be with my family, by water, laughing, listening, eating, singing, hugging, making love, being honest, listening. Maybe even resting…
But I don’t think I’m dying in a month, so I just can’t resist! Without peeking at my google calendar, let’s see what I can remember from this past year:
July 13th, 2023
July 14 on - Oakland. I help my dad with some of the “clean up.” We walked without the dog on a new route and talked about the future a little. Kev brought food. I did not cook. Fly back to Denver. I think we swam. I took them to two birthday parties and avoided all the moms. I cried. I tried a lot of sleeping pills that didn’t work. I felt guilty for missing so much time with my kids. Fetal position on the couch. Lots of TV. Saxon compassion fatigue. Can’t read. Can’t cook. Avoid calls and texts. Nightmares, insomnia, wine, moving through molasses. I cancelled the Unsent shows. My mom was going to get on the mic at our Oakland show…I stopped sharing my writing for a while. I got lost but I didn’t want to be lost. Also tried to forget that Nancy was never going to be our Nancy again. Loss on loss on loss.
August - We traveled back to Oakland to spend time with my dad. On the airplane we didn’t have seats next to each other. I was a mess - scared of going back to that house. The rigid couple who could have easily moved from their seats so I could sit with my babies refused, stating that I was a scam artist. “Don’t look at her honey, just stay where you are, ignore her.” Ok…I told them my mom died and they laughed at the audacity of me lying to get a better seat.
We spent good time with Pa. S’mores. The girls on a blow up bed in my childhood bedroom. My mom’s closet spelled like her perfume and moth balls. We hiked and threw the ball for Gracie. We swam and ate at the snack bar, for Grammy. We went to Santa Cruz, I had a panic attack in the mini van. We went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. I fell asleep at a friend’s pool. I bled and bled and bled. I tried micro-dosing mushrooms. Nothing works. I was not able to go through my mom’s things, and I still haven’t. They await me this August. Please help me. Girls started school - the first day of K and 1st. So big! Couldn’t send my mom their first day photos by the big sunflower. Signed them up for therapy. And myself. Saxon will be next.
In Denver, I couldn’t be home. I couldn’t believe my mom and I planned to be together all of August so they had camp until then, and then…So. We tried to travel. To Breckenridge, Sand Dunes, Mt. Princeton. I cried so hard I thought I would die. I had night terrors. So did Nya.
September - Saxon traveled, he kept working through this. We started to rely on savings to get by. We took the kids to Great Wolf Lodge (Vegas for kids), I had to make up for all that time I was gone and all the tears. We had a huge fight, always when I can’t sleep and don’t know what I’m saying. I started trying to cook and clean and clear the house again? Saxon and I went to Vail for his birthday. The fall leaves helped. So did The Creative Act and Rick’s calming voice. I worked hard to plan my mom’s celebration. It was heavy but also good to connect with my aunt and uncle on zoom to make it all happen. I cancelled my mom’s account at Kume Spa. All the while, mothering, bedtimes, bath times, wiping butts, band aids on boo boo owies, activities, sign ups, pick ups, drop offs, being late for school, volunteering, and avoiding work and cleaning. We went camping, fall festivals, art museum, tried to write, my cycle completely changed and hormones took over (they have since won!). The girls asked if they could please get lost on their own in the corn maze. I said yes.
October - had so many stomach issues and GI stuff, tried medications, started hypnotherapy for GI systems, and started to realize my therapist was making me go into my childhood traumas and I was not ready or able to do that work but kept showing up. I started going to Grief Yoga. It helped. I kept working out. I was at the hospital a lot. I felt strange comfort in the hospital, especially the chapel where I prayed for all of us, for my mom, for Aunt La. I did a full panel of tests to make sure I wasn’t dying of cancer. Had MRIs, genetic testing, it all lead to more testing, more anxiety. Basically, I am fine. Just grieving.
My mom’s Celebration of Life on October 28th was beautiful. Full house. Full moon.
Then we came back for Halloween fun times. I tried to have fun. I went on a writing retreat in Breck to dive back into my script. It was creatively very helpful, but my body wasn’t ready. I peed 140 times in one night. I didn’t sleep. But I did get great notes and made some lovely connections with the film community here. It was a good follow up to winning SeriesFest with the same project, which happened in May and then my mom got really sick right after that…and it was during the writer’s strike so. Yeah. We’ll see what happens now. My friend and producer said we are going at our Grace Pace and that has stuck with me to this day. We are still going at that pace!
November - We had a beautiful Unsent show. It was my first time being back in that head space and heart space. Hard but good. Tried to see friends. Kept some routines. It got really cold. Lots of holiday activities. My dad came for Thanksgiving. I cooked Mac and cheese, sweet potatoes and marshmallows and made that pear salad Jaja likes. I don’t remember if we ate. He rested on the couch then we went for a cold walk and a drink at his hotel and talked about how to solve my problem of working and living in too small of a home. It was nice to be with him. We didn’t make it to Jaja’s for Thanksgiving with Saxon’s family - we just weren’t ready. And that was ok. We did a lot of holiday activities - maybe too many!
December - Seylah’s big Sky Zone 7th birthday party on December 3rd. I started planning our Philippines trip. Lots of kid stuff, play dates, holiday concerts, classroom parties. First Christmas without my mom to help me be Santa. My dad wanted to be home so we booked flights there. Then I changed the dates to Dec 26th. Exhausted. We stayed here for Christmas. The next morning, we got on the airport train, and I had a panic attack/meltdown/whatever you call it when you burst at the seams on the inside - and I called him and said I’m sorry. I just can’t. He understood. Thank you. We got off the train. We went home, to a movie maybe? We celebrated Kwanzaa. I got Covid. I don’t remember NYE. The kids continue to thrive and grow, surprise us, challenge us, and keep us here.
January - A blur. Cold. We started our non profit - Three Things - and created the website, got those ducks in a row - for my work with elders and his work with kids. We got our 501c3 and we’re ready to go, just need to finish up and keep going…Unsent writing workshops, live shows, Doula Life Reviews and Legacy Work, and all his work with kids, rap, afro-futurism as Healing Futures, is under this umbrella now. We spend a lot of time together. I worked on a film project about the GI system and grief. Dad came to visit, so happy, and we scattered mom’s ashes in the river along Lair o’ the Bear.
February - I travel to LA to be with my people for my birthday. It was so important and healing. I miss my friends so much. Thank you to everyone who showed up in love! I pulled my back out walking in heels. So of course I danced in heels at my Denver birthday party and was injured for a month. It was worth it. I look for a new therapist. I guide an Unsent workshop for teens and it is great.
March - I don’t remember anything except preparing for and going to the Philippines. The girls got sick the day before so we were at urgent care making sure we were all good. Oh and we got some house jobs done with Angel holding it down for us when we were gone! A refresh of the kitchen and whole house paint job. It was really hard to pack up and leave, and even harder to unpack. Like moving, but just back into your old house. A big part of me wanted to move, away from these neighbors, with more space. Still true. The girls start lacrosse. Nya likes it. Seylah likes to wave at us on the side lines as the ball is coming towards her. My big song with Hannah Wants is released. Baby Luck is still alive! Saxon and I make music together. I must be writing but don’t remember, it’s all in my notes, journals, stickies, surrounding us all, trying to record and remember as we go…
April - Philippines! We scattered her ashes. Kept our promise. Saxon and I had lots of good marriage and sex talks. We shot a lot of great video footage. We rode motorbikes in Cebu City. We ate a lot. We laughed and drove a lot. We swam every day. I didn’t sleep a lot, I was still the one holding the “sad girl” torch for my mom. I didn’t realize I was allowed to feel free. Even amongst the sea urchins and starfish and bright blue and yellow fish and small sharks swimming with us. I howled-screamed-cried for hours in Saxon’s arms as we floated in hotel pools in the middle of the night. We all got closer. We fought. We loved our time there, together, with Fritz. I loved having time with my dad. He got really sick and had a bad cough for almost 2 months. Travel can be hard. I worked with the library to bring my life review interviews to DPL and they will begin in September. I go offline. I do another Unsent workshop for teens and it is magic.
Aunt La passes away. Big big big boo boo owie. I wrote her a letter I was going to read at her service but it was long so I will share it here soon. We miss you so much Aunt La.
May - Nya’s huge 6th birthday party where I disassociate and shut down, finally. My mom’s birthday. Mother’s Day, which I spent crying in the bathroom as the girls and Saxon watched the live Bluey show. This was the busiest month. I was at the school every day helping in the classrooms, doing poetry workshops and helping produce the talent show ;). The Kindergarten class (Nya’s class) did a big show with costumes and props to one of Saxon’s songs for kids that I sang on. It felt really right and really good. We had our big Unsent Parenthood Edition Show and it was so beautiful, heart wrenching, hilarious. And exhausting.
I went to Feed My Demons at Tara Mandala Buddhist Retreat Center in Pagosa Springs alongside wild horses and boy were they hungry! They still are. But it was a very healing, beautiful, hard and intense time. My cycle refused to come and I started holding so much water in my body. I met a few women who mothered me, which I so desperately needed, and we’re staying in touch. The beginnings of a Sangha. My retreat teachers said my only homework was to meditate every day and that would lead me to all the answers I was searching for. I only needed to relax and do nothing. And keep feeding my “fear of death” demon. Welp. I was a star student and volunteered to sit and feed my demons in front of the whole class. I was engaged and loved it, but also needed to get space, needed to stop helping so much, so I left a little early to soak in Joyful Journey hot springs. And felt great about it. I could use more of that - being honest about what I want to do, and don’t want to do. I didn’t realize I could do that. I did not want to come back home. I am not meditating every day.
June - Got a new therapist to get me through the summer. She is amazing and you’ll be getting a full post on “therapy homework” shortly.
Last day of school for the girls. My dad’s birthday. I got the girls into all the summer camps. They go when they feel like it. I did a ton of work to get into the Lit Fest advanced workshops for nonfiction and screenwriting. I met with an agent. The experience confirmed that I will continue writing. More on that soon. I decided not to apply for the book project, as I want to look forward and not keep reading all the writings from my time caregiving for my mother and losing her.
My dad and his new girlfriend came to visit for Father’s Day weekend. They are alive and enjoying themselves. They are traveling and eating out and hiking and living their lives. My mom is not. She is not here. I realize I am so angry that I am not enjoying myself, that I keep waiting for permission to follow any bliss, that I don’t know who I am without caring for her, that I feel like I have to stay sad to keep her alive. I cried at a fancy (Nya calls it “advanced”) restaurant one night and I couldn’t tell my dad why. Because I didn’t know why. He must move forward and find joy. I completely get it. I must find a way to do the same. I am the only one who can give myself permission. Damn.
The summer solstice is welcomed. My season (and my mother’s) of being in water, with the moon, afloat, fireworks, adrift, up late, puzzles and cuddles. We still haven’t planted the garden. I eat a lot of popcorn for dinner. I decide I can’t visit my Godmother in Washington. I panic about Max 8’s but really it’s that I am deeply, profoundly fatigued and feel a strong urge to stay close to my kids this season. I am going to visit her soon. I’m awaiting her call now, actually. And she was gracious, so gracious, about meeting me where I was. No guilt. “Not now” is not “never.” “I’m sorry you’re in pain.” “Follow the yes and if you’re going to bad talk yourself I don’t want to hear it.” I am blessed to have her.
We got new neighbors who are loud, have a barking dog, and a car alarm that goes off every night. We decide not to look for a house to buy until next year and have a long list of house jobs to do but we also just keep looking for cabins to rent.
July - We rent a cabin in Fairplay. We play lots of games. We are now a family that loves puzzles. After I put the girls to sleep, Saxon and I played pool (billiards) and I kept winning and that made Saxon mad in a fun, date-night kinda way. We recommit to dating each other. We all had our own bedrooms but the girls found me and slept next to me anyway. That is ok. We clapped to kill the mosquitoes in the hot tub. We were the only ones on the hike and saw new butterflies and bugs. I saw the girls so alive and free in the forest. I saw that we all need to get lost, to keep going farther, to imagine what the next part of life can look like and feel like. And I need to get lost alone, to embrace this “uncertainty of discovery.”
I recommit to my writing practice, even if I never share it. I start practicing piano again. My boobs get even bigger along with my tummy. Happy husband, happy wife! I cancel things. I forget things. I lose my phone on purpose (unless I’m doing a word puzzle!). We go to Saxon’s family reunion. My therapist tells me I can’t plan anything until the girls start school. OMG. Unplanned road trip from Denver to Oakland arriving Aug 3rd! I can’t resist.
My hope is that you will send up a little love to my mom on July 13th, wherever you believe she is. And while you’re at it, please send us some, too. It’s going to be a ripe day. I haven’t and cannot do this without you. Thank you all so much for being here with me, through the grief waves, dreams, memories, feelings and words that don’t work, but we must keep trying.
A big thank you, as always, to my sweet and dear husband, who feeds me in every way.
Love and boom,
Britt
