Pretending To Be Me
I remember wrapping my feet during my ballet years, much like the guitarist at the beginning of this video wraps his hand. What are we to think of those things we do for our art? “What if I say I’ll never surrender?” What are we to say of those things we do to express our losses?
I watch myself in daylight hours, and I question, “Who are you?” Then, I realize I’m asking this question of myself, and I dissolve into nanoseconds, time too short to calculate, and the only thing that lives there, is an agonizing loss, and much too large to place in time, value, or cognizant thought. So, I pretend to be me…the me I was last Spring (2007), before May 30.
Some days ago, I said to Nat and Owen’s godmother, Lea, “If anyone ever wanted to play me in a movie, all they would have to do, is ask me. I can play me better than anyone.” We both laughed (heartily, mind you), and knew the truth in the statement. Only I can know how it feels to lose Owen, as his mother. I did, so I know. Find me someone who can portray this pain. No, don’t. I know it too well. I can share it, but you cannot feel it the same way. Nor would I ask that of you, or anyone.
I talked with Nat for a long time tonight. He was having a similarly awful night. None of us can know what it’s like to lose your little brother. None of us can know what Nat thinks in the dark hours. None of us can know how much he wants to change it all, make it better. So, we spend time on the phone, or in the car, or in our living room, talking of times past, and what’s in our futures. Mostly, we can’t share what we talk about. We are in this thing together. Nat and I knew Owen in a way most others didn’t. We were closer to him than any others. And, we share this pain in ways no one should. We become the pretenders.
Owen would not have wanted his death to be the reason we can’t move forward. So, we move forward. And, there are days, when we stand still, and remember. We remember when Owen talked with us about how short life is, how much we have to pack into so little time, and how none of us should regret what comes next. All of it comes next.
Thank you, Owen Riley, for constantly reminding us of how little time we spend here on the planet Earth. Thank you for reminding us of who we are, and where we’re going. And, thank you for reminding us of how we pretend…when all that is in front of us, won’t let us be…us.
Song for the night: The Pretender, Foo Fighters
http://youtube.com/watch?v=DKhnmUdmz74
