At Rest

Today was Rosalee's funeral. 

I was doing really well holding it together as I spoke to her sisters, her mom, and those theatre friends who attended the service. It wasn't until after the priest blessed her coffin and the pall was placed over the coffin (it was light blue and silver) and we pall bearers placed our hands on it to guide it up the aisle of the church. I swear I tried to hold back the tears. I admit I failed. The others were stoic. I cried like a girl.

The service itself is a bit of a blur. Rosalee kept telling me she was Unitarian the last time I saw her but this was a Catholic Mass. In his homily, the priest said that when he visited Rosalee on the Monday before she passed that she "blessed" herself. He was making a statement about going home to God. 

It's not the first Catholic funeral I've been to but it is the first where Communion was served. The priest allowed non-Catholics to approach, arms crossed over their chest, for a blessing in lieu of taking the Host. I was surprised somewhat to see several people approach with their arms crossed. One was one of Rosalee's sisters. 

I admit to wanting to laugh during the service. I'm not Catholic and don't understand the significance of certain acts - such as the ringing of a bell - and such. I'm sure it means something to those of that faith. But it dawned on me that Rosalee would have loved it....the man in a dress, the ringing of bells, the singing of songs...it was pure theater. At the cemetery, Tim, a theater friend, said "She should have been sitting in the back with us, making snarky comments and laughing." He was so right. I thought the same from the front pew.

Her son - who was about 13 when I met his mom - gave the eulogy and he did her proud. It was beautiful to see him all grown up and handsome. It also made me aware of my age and my own mortality.

The drive from the church to the cemetery was long and a bit out of the way. We passed another Catholic church and two cemeteries on the way. The rent-a-cops did an outstanding job since we took three freeways. I told one of them (not the cute one) and he thanked me.

I was a bit surprised to find out that Rosalee is interred in a vault. I'm not sure if that's a family thing or one of her wishes not to be buried in the ground. Just after the priest finished with the service and the representative from the mortuary spoke, the nephew of Rosalee's son sang "What a Wonderful World" in a pure boy soprano voice. It was certainly the fitting conclusion to celebrate Rosalee's life.

After that everyone drove back to the church for a reception. I'd taken a few pictures from our tribute table at the theater and some personal performance pictures of Rosalee and laid them with the other pictures her sister had put together. I could hear people exclaiming over them, especially the few other theater people who endured the long day. 

I don't want to make this about me...but I've had a very difficult time with this. Her sister told me that my name was first on the list to call. Mine was the first name to come up in pall bearer consideration. That made me proud. I told her sisters, son, husband, and parents that it was an honor to be included.

Rosalee's best friend told me that it was fitting to see me carry Rosalee to her final resting place. She shared that Rosalee had told her that she loved going out with me because if she couldn't go on, I would carry her home.

And so I have.

BEHR HUGS

Sunday Favorite: 89

Today I am off to the Santa Monica Beach with my Mom for the Arthritis Foundation Walk. I've done this walk for the past several years and have blogged about it before. Thank you to my friends who have supported me. My Mom asked if I wanted to skip it but I said no...I think we should go. It'll be good.

The past few days have been difficult for me...I'm doing better but know the worse is to come. In my last post I told you that my friend Rosalee passed away. I've been an emotional wreck. Just about the time I think I have a hold on it I start crying again. It's been most difficult at the theatre where Rosalee was an integral part of the workings. Each night at the end of the show when the audience begins applauding I start crying. Rosalee would have loved this show. She would have laughed and laughed and had witty things to say. She will never experience the joy of performing again.

Friday night I had a call from Rosalee's sister. She called to tell me about Rosalee and to ask me to be a pall bearer at the service/internment on Thursday. She said that they realized they needed them and her younger sister said "Markus." That touched me, made me feel honored, and totally ripped my heart out. Her sister said "She loved you so much." 

I have a rough work week ahead. Lots of classes and a little traveling to the Inland Empire but just for one day. It'll be about an hour drive each way if I'm lucky. The drive home will probably be rough. 

In addition, my Mom shared today that she's having another medical procedure. Without going into too much detail she's upset about it (there's a hassle with having to have changed doctors) and she's afraid of what they'll find. So that's weighing on my mind as well.

Thankfully there are no rehearsals until Thursday and that's cast only; stage crew not required. Yippee!!

So that's the update as of this morning. I certainly hope all of you out there are well.

BEHR HUGS

My Friend

I found out tonight that my beautiful friend, Rosalee, passed away earlier this week.

I am devastated.

I blogged about Rosalee and our friendship about a month ago. Since that blog, I was able to see her...we went to breakfast and shared laughs and near-tears and basked in the beauty of our friendship. She started to fade and so I took her home. Nothing doing, I had to go in and sit and continue our conversation. If I had known that was the last time I was going to see her, I would have said so much more than I did.

I am confident that she knows that I love her and adore her. I miss her so much already.

Her diagnosis of pancreatic cancer got me to writing poetry again. Well...one poem. I have not yet finished it. It's about her. I think subconsciously I thought if I didn't finish it, she would remain with us.

I now need to finish it. If there's an opportunity, I'd like to share it at her memorial, which is yet to be planned. I so wanted her to hear it. I wanted her to know that she inspired creativity and that so many people were able to "get" poetry.

Rest in Peace, my beautiful friend. 

Your spirit lives within me.

I will always love you.

And So It Starts

What starts, you may be asking yourself after reading the title of this post and - if you're breathing - checking out the incredibly hot beach daddy. Well let me tell you.

This starts my "birthday week." Now, I normally don't advertise my birthday because I generally don't care for the attention. I may be an ENFJ but I'm an odd ENFJ. I'm making an exception this year because it's a milestone birthday.

I'll be 50 on Friday.

As of this writing, it doesn't bother me. Oh it mystifies me somewhat, but overall I'm okay with my age. Maybe it's because I don't feel my age necessarily. There are times in my head I think I'm still in my 20s. Maybe that's why I've been dating 20-something year olds for the past 8 years.

I think it helps that many people tell me I don't look my age. A female coworker was shocked to find out I'll be 50. She thought I was in my 30s! I told her fat people always look younger.

I'll be working Monday and Tuesday but taking the rest of the week off. I would have liked to have taken more time off but work has interfered. I'm still struggling on finding time to take some extended vacation. I considered going to England but for various reasons I dropped that idea. Mainly that I don't want to travel alone.

And perhaps that's the one downfall of this birthday; I realize how alone I am. Now, that doesn't necessarily mean I'm lonely, just...alone. I have many friends who I love dearly but not many of them can afford to go on a trip with me. And stingy old bastard that I am, I don't want to pay someone else's way. Yeah it's the selfishness in me. That's one train the horoscopes never tell you about Taureans.

I will be taking a mini-trip though. But first let me back up. Today, Sunday, I treated myself out to breakfast. I use to do this quite often but I have found that I need to follow a specific diet and that makes eating out a bit difficult. I can manage but prefer to just cook/eat at home. But today, I went out. Nothing special, French toast, but it was nice. I even went someplace I haven't been to in years.

I'll be working Monday and Tuesday. Tuesday night I'll be having dinner with my friend Roger (see Gay Days 2012) who will be in the area for work. Wednesday morning I'll seeing Rosalee for breakfast. I'm excited about these two meals...two really great people. And of course, with Rosalee it's ultra-special.

On Thursday I'll be driving to Phoenix, AZ and going to a couple of baseball games. I've been an Arizona Diamondbacks fan ever since they became an expansion team and fully supporting them despite changes in managers and team colors. I have no idea what I'll be doing during the day on Friday since the game is in the evening but I'm sure I'll find some trouble to get into. After all, Phoenix is the city of my birth and I thought it fitting to spend my day there.

The rest of the weekend will be spend driving home, spending time with family and prepping for the following work week. Not overly exciting but hey! at my age one can't have too much excitement. LOL

So there you have it...I'll be taking a mini-trip back to my birthplace to celebrate my milestone birthday. I've know of a couple of restaurants I want to visit (it's always about food with me). I'm looking forward to it and I'm getting a bit excited.

BEHR HUGS

Happy Memories for a Tragic Time

There's a saying that God only grants difficulties to those who can handle them. I'm beginning to think that's a line of bullshit.

I have a friend - Rosalee - who is one of THE most marvellous women I've ever met. Beautiful, talented, funny, spiritual, loving, kind...she brings light, joy, love to everyone she meets. A strong feminist Latina, she's had several volumes of poetry published, and yet she has a Marilyn Monroe-like sexuality; she flirts and acts coy but you just know she's in control.

I met Rosalee briefly at a cast party for a production of "Evita" she and a mutual friend were in way back in '86. We later reconnected at auditions for a theater production the following year. The theater was doing an "original" show to celebrate the city's centennial celebration. We basically took the audience through 100 years of entertainment. The first scene took place in a saloon with can-can girls and a woman being lowered on a swing while singing "She's only a bird...in a gilded cage...." Eventually a brawl breaks out and my good friend Roxie ends up on my shoulders, her skirt over my head, while she and Rosalee scratch fight as we whirled off stage. We had a fantastic time during that show and became fast friends. We spent spare time together and our shared interests of theater, poetry, vampires, and of course hot young men cemented our friendship. I became "Aunt Markus" to her 7th grader son who accepted me for my quirkiness because I was "mom's friend." She really raised him right; he's warm, caring, and accepting of all.

Rosalee, her best friend, and I used to hold hands and dance and attempt to seduce young men. We laughed and talked of stars and flowers and waves of peace flowing over the earth to heal it from the crap man had done to it. We were the hippies of the 80s & 90s. 

One summer she and I went to the bar at Acapulco Mexican restaurant and proceeded to attempt to pick up on a hunky golden construction worker who actually seemed as interested in me as he was in her. We played games with men that way...if he wanted to play he had to play with us both.

One of the things I most love about Rosalee is if she likes you she's 100% supportive. She once got me to writing poetry again...and I joined her poetry group. We'd get together and share and offer feedback and discuss the imagery of our poems. I always thought my stuff was crap until I heard some of the others' stuff! Rosalee always assured me that I was brilliant. I liked to believe it. And of course, her poems were miracles...on the surface it sounded like she was talking of dead leaves on the lawn but in reality she was talking about the devastation of war. The woman is a genius.

In 2003-4 she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. My beautiful, smart, funny, talented friend fought with all her might...and overcame. Her hair grew back, she grew strong and had a small part in a play.

In 2010 the cancer came back. Again she fought although this time she was scared. It took longer and took a toll on her but she won the fight. And she was rewarded with the long overdue birth of her grandson. She celebrated her 60th birthday - a much quieter affair than her 50th but still a celebration.

And now...my friend has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I am devastated. It is not fair. Too much has been heaped on this wonderful woman.

She asked me to tell our theater friends and I've sent emails and posted private messages on Facebook; I'm not publicly announcing this horrendous news. I am trying to keep her spirits up with emails, calls, cards...and reminding her she's a grandma and we all need her.

I have asked far too many favors from my cyber friends and blog followers; but I must ask that you keep Rosalee in your prayers, thoughts, spiritual recitations...that whatever god, goddess, higher power, source of energy that you believe in be beseeched on her behalf for a healing. Her grandson is a mere 4 years old...he needs to grow up with this fantastic "Auntie Mame" type grandmother...so if you can see your way...please indulge me.

Here is a taste of Rosalee reading one of her poems.

I've started working on my own poem to honor Rosalee. I think she'd be proud.


BEHR HUGS