Scheduling Sadness (Alternate title: What a WUSS.)

So I’ve been trying to figure out, with the help of many of my friends, what the deal is these days. Is this just what happens when you enter your 40’s, that you’re faced with more and more sadness? Is it the state of this country at the moment, or the state of our STATE, which is in the crapper? Am I just extra sensitive since I lost my father a little over a year ago? It just seems as though SO many sad things are happening around me, and to the people I love. The premature cancer death of a young parent, leaving young children without a mother. The premature deaths of souls that were so riddled with pain and despair that they turned to suicide. Hundreds of talented and dedicated teachers, waiting to hear if they’re still employed. The stories of the children I work with, getting to me more so than they ever have in 14 years, maybe with the exception of my first year. The worry I carry with me for the teens with whom I work, and the challenging lives they’ve been given, knowing that I can’t fix them. Major fractures have occurred in family relationships, fractures that I never saw coming and may not ever be totally mended. And always, in the background, is my father, and the knowledge that I can’t just pick up the phone and talk about all these things with him. So what to do? I don’t cry in public. I don’t cry at work (although I have cracked a couple of times lately). It still needs to get out, but what would an appropriate avenue be, and when can I fit it in? Well…I schedule my sadness.

In the weeks and months that followed my father’s death, my family knew that if mom went out in the backyard with her Ipod, she needed alone time. Music is probably one of the main things that will make me cry, and there are good reasons. “Try to Remember” from The Fantasticks is a good one, and it makes me cry because I have vivid memories of my father singing that song around the house in his beautiful voice. Pretty much the whole soundtrack to Pippen makes me cry…just because we were forced to listen to 70’s showtunes on vinyl constantly while growing up. The same goes for a Chorus Line. Later, it’s songs from shows that he and I saw together, like Phantom and Les Mis. So those all make some nostalgic sense. Other songs get to me for different reasons, such as “For All We Know” by Donny Hathaway, just for the lyrics and the purity of his flawless, perfect voice. “The Scientist” by Coldplay is another one, because once while visiting my father, I decided to deep clean his bedroom, where he’d been confined for years. It took about four hours, and it was a tiny bedroom. I was absolutely covered in years of dust and dog dander, it was a major undertaking. I vacummed as he dozed, and on my Ipod, the lyrics “Nobody said it was easy, it’s such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard. Oh, take me back to the start.” This was probably more than a year before he actually passed, but as I listened to those words as I cleaned, tears poured down my face, and I was so happy he was sleeping. Much less obvious, is Justin Bieber…I know! It’s terrible. But the boy has one or two songs that make me tear up, but I have a good reason, I swear! As I’ve mentioned before, last October I took my dear daughter to her first concert as an early 10th birthday gift. I didn’t feel like going that day, I was dreading it, as a matter of fact. But we had an absolute blast, and as much as I’ll lose my musical taste cred to admit, the boy put on a great show. The songs make me tear up because of how happy we both were that night, how much fun we had, and how I realized how quickly my girl is growing up. How much longer do I have before she wants me to do what I heartlessly instructed my own mother to do: Drive me places with my friends and not talk? Will there even BE another concert we’ll attend together, or will the next one simply involve me dropping her off with friends, and driving back to pick them up? So the memory is precious, and yes, the damn songs make me cry.

Then there’s dance, which I have always loved…yes, I became a major fan of So You Think You Can Dance several years back. One year there was a dance that depicted a daughter being reunited with her father in Heaven , to Billy Porter’s “Time.” It aired originally several years before my father actually died, but it killed me then, and it kills me now. ANY time I need to cry, I watch the clip or listen to the song. There was another dance a few years later about addiction, same choreographer, to Sarah Bareilles’ “Gravity.” It was so incredibly powerful and amazing, I think I’ve watched it about 50 times. Dad struggled with addiction, and I’ve had issues myself, so that clip or the song can also get me going. So these all make a certain amount of logical sense.

Some movies are obvious. I love all of these movies, but there are parts in particular that just kill me. The end of The Color Purple has guaranteed to start the water works with me since I was in high school. The moment when Celie realizes that her sister is there with her children gives me chills to this day. More recently, the last half hour or so of Billy Elliot, especially the last 5 minutes when his father finally sees him perform the lead in Swan Lake and the tears in his eyes and look on his face…so beautiful. I hear it’s on Broadway now, I’d never survive it. The last half hour of Away We Go also does it, just because I can relate so much to being terrified about being a parent and all the things that could go wrong, but you just do it, you move forward. Finally, the perfect place for the couple is her childhood home, which has stayed empty since both of her parents died. Then there’s the scene in Garden State when they go down to the weird little boat-apartment in the quarry where the man lives with his wife and baby. It’s his job to watch over the quarry, and explore it further. It seems like such a dreary place to Andrew, but the man explains how happy he is, in this simple life, with the woman he loves and the beautiful baby they made together. Andrew tells him when they’re leaving, “Good luck exploring the infinite abyss!” And the man says with a knowing smile, “You too.” It’s pouring rain, and as he leaves with his friend and girlfriend, Andrew just suddenly realizes…life doesn’t have to be like this. He doesn’t have to be a numbed, medicated mess that never moves forward and stays paralyzed in the past. Happiness is attainable. He throws his head up to the downpour and spreads his arm wide. He and his companions then climb onto a large piece of equipment, a tractor of some kind, and just yell their lungs out. He lets out all that pain and loss, and suddenly realizes he can start over. It’s just brilliant and beautiful…and one of the best soundtracks EVER. I simply adored Where The Wild Things are, but it was the trailer that killed me. That was one of the best movie trailers ever, set to one of the best chosen songs ever, “Wake Up” by Arcade Fire. It’s hard to explain why it touched me so much, but it did, and does.

Then the TRUE wuss comes out. I cry at those “Foundation For A Better Life” commercials. Yes, I do. Not all of them, if that makes it any better. The montage with friggin Kelly Clarkson singing “Breakaway” does it. The one when the young man chases the bus to return the lady’s purse does it, as does the one with the Vato-looking dude giving his seat on the bus to an elderly Asian lady. The most recent one that got me was when an elderly lady is grocery shopping and she can’t reach the salad dressing. A tall man comes by and reaches up and gets one for her, and she’s very sweet and thankful. They don’t always show the entire commercial, but the rest of it involves the lady looking up to see that the dressing is 2 for 5$. She again tries to reach them herself, and a number of them come tumbling down around her…she looks alarmed, and then says, “I better get out of here” and makes a run for it away with her shopping cart. THAT makes me cry because it reminds me so very much of my own dear grandma, gone nearly 11 years now. Earlier this week I couldn’t contain myself during an episode of “The Deadliest Catch”, I still haven’t gotten over the fact that Captain Phil died. I loved him. He was just 100% DUDE…loved his kids, cursed like the sailor he was, smoked like a chimney, hollered at his kids when they needed it, which was a lot, and took NO crap. He was just one of those salt of the earth guys, a man's man. Not pretentious or arrogant, or trying to be someone or something he wasn’t. Did I know this man? Nope…it’s a television show, for crying out loud. But I truly have a hard time watching it now…too sad about Phil.

But what can truly make me cry the most consistently and more than anything else? Freaking GLEE. Oh my sweet Lord, what has happened to me? Firstly, Lea Michelle’s voice just leaves me completely undone. All those kids are talented, but there is a tone in her voice that gives me chills it’s so amazing. Add her voice to songs FROM musicals that I went to see with my dad? Forget it, I’m done. “I Dreamed A Dream” from Les Mis put me over the edge. “What I Did For Love” from A Chorus Line does it. “Defying Gravity” from Wicked does it too, even though I’ve never seen it. It was in its last weeks in San Francisco about a year ago, and my sweet husband actually offered to take me. He detests musicals, but knows how much I love them. I just couldn’t do it, I was afraid I would bawl the entire time…and I’d be in public. I won't cry in public. It’s still a goal of mine to be able to go see and enjoy a musical without falling to pieces, it may require an intervention of some kind. “Papa Can You Hear Me?” was almost too much. I never saw Yentl, but it doesn’t matter. Her voice is so pure and I miss my father so much, it just fits. Then there’s the show itself…it’s clever and funny and makes me laugh. But it’s also so incredibly groundbreaking and sensitive and sweet. The best character EVER written for television as far as I’m concerned is Kurt’s dad. He’s a blue collar guy, a mechanic, raising this very flamboyant gay son alone. He’s in uncharted waters, but his love for his son is astounding and touching and it always makes me cry. When Kurt comes out to him, he already knew, of course. When Finn is raging at Kurt about the room they’re to share because their parents are dating and moving in together, and begins to yell at Kurt about the “faggy curtains”, etc., the ferocity in which Kurt’s dad comes to his defense is so real. Any parent knows that feeling, the Mama or Papa Bear who will demolish anyone who dares to hurt their cub, physically or emotionally. He’s willing to forego his own happiness he’d have by living with his girlfriend rather than to subject his son to ridicule. Later, when Kurt’s friend Blaine approaches his dad to inform him he needed to talk about him about sex, you could see how uncomfortable he was. Blaine mentions how special Kurt’s bond is with his dad, and how much he wishes he could have the same bond with his own father, who still wishes he was straight. As he’s leaving, Blaine says, “I hope I didn’t cross the line.” Kurt’s dad simply replies, “You did.” The next scene when he’s set the stage to talk to his gay son about sex is hilarious…there he is, with his pamphlets spread out on the table. Neither of them want to participate in this conversation, but his dad makes it happen anyway. And the sweetest part? He emphasized the emotion that accompanies sex, and how teenage boys are generally only after sex. So it’s actually worse with two boys, because there’s twice the chance of someone’s heart getting hurt. It was so awkward and sweet and genuine. My husband detests Glee…he glanced over at me at this point and says, “You’re crying at THIS?” Of course I was!!! That was one of the best scenes ever. THAT is what pure, unapologetic love looks like, the love this man has for his son. What is more beautiful than that? (Sidenote: My husband is an absolutely wonderful person. There are just a number of things that I love that he doesn’t get. And he’ll wholeheartedly admit it, while being forced to watch people dance on television, “I just don’t get it.” God bless him).

So while being faced with too much reality, too much actual sadness and tragedy, I hold it together. I remain composed and professional, while trying as hard as I can to help any way that I can. However, when I can find some privacy, I will weep openly, from music, dance, film, and a musical sitcom aired on Fox. Who knew?

Sincerely, Major Wuss

*And if anyone was wondering, I wept while I wrote this, whilst listening to songs from Glee on my Ipod in my backyard.