Farewell

Three weeks ago, within four days of each other, my favorite aunt died, Michael Jackson died and I turned 30.

It was a week that for me was horrific, unfathomable, heart-wrenching and beautiful all at the same time. It is hard for me to write about. I have been trying unsuccessfully for the past couple of weeks, but I feel I have all of my thoughts together now.

I had just gotten in from seeing a midnight showing of Transformers 2 when my mother called me from Fayetteville at a little past 3 a.m. on Wednesday morning. She informed me that her sister, my auntie Debbie, had passed away a few minutes before. We had known for a few days that it was coming. She had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in February and had gotten extremely sick that weekend. The doctors had said that Sunday that she would only have a few more days and I had gone that day to say good-bye. She was asleep most of the time I was there and smiling and I wanted to remember her like that. So when my mother called, it was a call I was expecting and yet I was still unprepared. For those who don't know me well, my way of dealing with grief is to continue about my daily affairs as much as I can, crying the whole time. Mostly, when I'm alone... I hate crying in front of people. But if I don't distract myself, if I stay alone or am around other people who are also grieving, it's infinitely worse. So I woke up in the morning, brushed my teeth and cried. I cried in the shower, while doing my hair and while getting dressed. I had to buy some shoes for a birthday party I was having that night. In the car, all the way to the shoe store, I cried. When I got to the shoe store parking lot, I took off my sunglasses, wiped off my face and went inside and purchased some shoes. Then I got back in the car and cried some more. Despite the sadness that I was feeling over my aunt's passing, I ended up having a fantastic time at that party. My friends were there and that made the night for me… unbeknownst to most of them, they were keeping me distracted and I needed that so badly. The party ended up being a huge success…

On Thursday, my mother informed me that my aunt's funeral was going to be on Saturday, which was my actual birthday. Lovely. For about five minutes, I had several selfish thoughts and then I got over it. I didn't want my birthday to be forever associated with the extreme sadness of her death, but somehow it being scheduled on my birthday ended up working out for the best in a strange way… Then, that afternoon, Michael Jackson died. I couldn't believe it. Michael Jackson was MICHAEL JACKSON. Almost everyone I know has Michael Jackson stories and I am no different… he was the first "boy" I ever had a crush on (it was the Human Nature album cover that did it), the first song anyone remembers me dancing to was "I Want You Back" by the Jackson Five when I was two years old and when I was four years old, I once woke my mother up at 6 a.m. because Michael Jackson was going to be on "Monica Merica" (actually, he was on Good Morning, America… but I couldn't pronounce all of that). "I Wanna Be Where You Are" has always been one of my favorite songs. In fact, Jackson Five songs and solo MJ songs have been a part of the soundtrack of my life (for a lot of people, this is the case)… so, his passing is still pretty unbelievable… so with all these things going 'round my head, Friday was spent finding a dress for my aunt's funeral, running errands for my actual birthday and trying to stay occupied.

On Saturday morning, I woke up early and drove to SC, crying all the way there. I got to my grandfather's house and all of us got dressed and drove to the funeral home. I was okay for the most party until they passed out the obituaries… and then I lost it… I cried straight through the next three hours nonstop. Seeing her face on the cover was something I could not accept.

Let me tell you some things about my aunt Debbie. In addition to being my mother's sister, she was her best friend. My mother had eight other sisters, but she and Debbie were only about a year and a half apart. I don't remember them ever fighting. They sounded so much alike if I picked up the phone and they were talking, I could not tell which one was my mom's voice. They were so close, my auntie postponed college for a year so she could wait for my mom and they could start as freshmen at the same time. She was always like that, just such a giving, supportive person. She had asked me to go with her to her first round of chemo treatments and I remember by the third one, when we would walk in, she would go over and say hello to everyone and ask them how they were doing that day. Before she had her only child, I was hers. I would spend weeks at my aunt and uncle's house. I actually went with her to her Lamaze classes when she was pregnant. I don't remember why I was the one that went with her because I was only about 9 years old, but I did. They gave me a doll to play with. She was also hilarious and she, my mother and I would spend hours cracking ourselves up. The story we always told the most was when we were at a religious service one Sunday… I was probably 17 or 18. There was a visiting preacher who was giving this talk about sex. I'm not sure what he was thinking… but it was possibly one of the worst sermons I have ever heard in my life… EVER. He was discussing sexual things graphically and mispronouncing everything. There were fornIFications and menIStrations all over the place. He kept saying penis and vagina because he seemed to like both words a lot. I don't remember learning a thing except that he was a pervert. I was sitting in between my mother and my aunt when one of us started to laugh. I don't remember who, but within seconds the three of us were crying laughing. Literally, sitting there with tears rolling down our faces. My little cousin, who was too young to really understand why we were laughing, was just sitting there looking at us… which made it funnier. When we realized that we were getting kind of loud, the three of us looked around to see if anyone else realized how ridiculous it was and everyone was paying rapt attention… and this cracked us up even more. I think Aunt Debbie was the first one to run to the bathroom, followed by me, then my mother. We could not get it together. That memory has made us laugh for years. Debbie was just a lovely person. She would always have a compliment for you when she saw you, always a smile, always something funny. It is unreal to me that she is gone, which is likely the only reason I've been able to deal with it. Some realities are too painful to ever fully adjust to. (Link to an article about my aunt, she was loved by many: http://sandspuronline.com/article?id=330628)

After her funeral, I drove back to Charlotte… it was my birthday, after all. I couldn't take the sadness anymore and was ready to celebrate life. But I cried all the way home. When my friends started arriving, I felt immensely better. We went to dinner and partied all night ending with a breakfast/sleepover at my house. I had a beautiful time at that party. There was a Michael Jackson tribute, of course and great music all around… we danced the night away. This is why I say, it actually worked out for the best. I don't know how I would have gotten through that week if not for all of the activities that were planned and if not for all of my friends surrounding me and distracting me from the pain of life… such a beautiful struggle, that it is…

So that's the week that I said good-bye to my Debbie, Michael Jackson and my 20's. I cried a lot, I laughed a lot. It was simultaneously one of the best and worst weeks of my life.

I've seen a lot of MJ tribute vids and shout-outs... this is mine... a remix and video someone created to one of my favorite songs...