Baptismal Waters

Sunday we are baptizing Gabriele. It is not an event that I saw coming, and yet yesterday I found myself in the Richmond room of the Greek Orthodox Church in Oakland. This was the room that 3 1/2 years ago Mimmo and I reluctantly joined our family and friends to eat fish following the funeral of our son, Salvatore. What do I remember about being in that room? The round tables, the numb feeling, the brightness of a sunny day, the darkness of our grief, the family members and friends who came to visit as I just sat there, unable to move. So, now at 3 1/2 years later, with Gabriele in the baby bjorn, he and I entered the empty Richmond room with paper and pen in hand. I came to see the room and decide how I wanted the set up of the tables. Such a different day, such a different occasion, but memories came back to me like ghosts trailing the room.

This is where our table was.

Wow, I never even noticed there was a fireplace or those great big windows.

I decided that, of course, we would need rectangular tables this time. That, of course, we'd need to be facing ourselves in a different direction. Last time we were on the west end of the room. This time I wanted us north, looking south. I realized that almost all the people who would be attending Gabriele's small baptism were also there for Salvatore's funeral. All these details that I was conscious of in this moment and completely unimportant the last time.

What I remember of that day was Mimmo going into hypoglycemia before we left. My 3 youngest cousins outside when we arrived, prepared to carry our small baby boy's plain pine coffin. Walking down the aisle of the church following his coffin and wailing like a matriarch in an old Greek tragedy. I remember being angry. I remember Father Tom speaking about Salvatore's name in Greek. I remember exiting the church and plopping myself on the stairs with Mimmo, both of us unable to move. I remember watching Justin and Matteo, the only 2 small children there, playing while we sat outside and feeling some sense of life by being in the presence of their beauty, innocence, and youth.

What is the use of these memories, a part of myself asks. It happened. You are here now. Blessed with two beautiful children. Life has returned to its normal pace - in our case, the fast trot of a horse, not the slow, hiding turtle's pace I kept in my grief. The hugs and empathetic glances I received back then by my family have returned to emotional distance and occasional judgement. I feel that feeling-sorry-for-myself-everyone-forgets-but-me-be-here-now stance. But, what I have in common with then and now is that I still am without Salvatore. I still am this woman from the same lifetime (just 3 1/2 years later, infact). The difference is now I get that feeling of grief in my throat, tears coming up where before my whole body was submerged and the crying continued loud and soft, under covers with pulled down shades. Now I have thin white curtains that let in the light. Now I have Gabriele's smile, Sofia's potty training, and breastfeeding to keep me occupied.

I still miss you, my dear boy. I still remember.

Where to start?

I guess I start from here. It has been, well, years. There are many reasons why I could not write and was trying to navigate the world of just living (without publicly blogging it) and opening up new doors. I have been in a mama's writing group that I started in the new year and last night one of the speakers was a writer who has written a memoir of losing her husband when she was 7 months pregnant and had a one year old. She talked about blogging and I was brought back to the memory of this time. Writing here. Time is still a tease and yet, it has shifted me into new places. Now, I have an almost 2 year old and an almost 4 month old (that have already stopped me several times from typing this post) and I am always mamma to 3. I don't know if I want to be public anymore with my thoughts and perhaps, I don't need to worry because maybe no one is reading this anyway. :-) But, I do need to keep writing. So, here I am. Much more to say, but for now this is a start. Gotta get dressed and begin the day.

Big day

It was a big day. It was a hard day. I can't say much more in this moment than that. Although I think I will post on the private blog later...

I am lucky for the love in my life.

I am lucky for the incredible gift that is my son. In his birth and in his death and in everything inbetween.

I just wish sometimes that it didn't have to be so big.

Time for a nap.

Meme-in

As I've been catching up on blogs, it seems that y'all have had a meme-in. It's been fun reading more about everybody and where you've been and what you'd been doing before we all met up here on this part of the road. So, I'm joining in on the meme-love. Here we go...

1. What were you doing 10 years ago?

I graduated from college. I had just written and produced my first play at school. I was planning a move to Chicago in the fall and the summertime was filled with dating someone new and babysitting an amazing girl, Annais, whose mother was a theatre actress. My cousin, Vassi was babysitting Annais' best friend, Alex and Alex's sister, Sarah and we spent our days together at the Claremont, swimming and playing lots of canasta. Before fall came, my Chicago plans got sidetracked as I got offered my first post-grad paid theatre job in SF. I worked as an assistant producer/office manager for a one-woman show and non-profit arts organization. Just before the year ended, I got an opportunity to go live and work in Ireland. I said goodbye to the theatre gig and jumped on a plane to London, not knowing that this would begin my life-long affair with travel, foreign men, and the gypsy life.

2. What 5 things are on your to-do list for today?

Well, these were 5 things (the day is now over)
- Go to Passport Center to get my name changed
- Call D & JD to reschedule, R to schedule, and A to check-in
- Get a bathing suit (uh, I finally did it) and gifts for my niece, my brother-in-law, and my mother-in-law to bring to Italy
- Do laundry
- Catch up on blogging

(Can you tell I'm done with my 3 jobs right now?!)

3. List some snacks you enjoy.

- All Mariposa goodies!
- Popcorn popped in olive oil
- Soy chai and 18 Rabbits' cheeky cherry chocolate granola bar (my Peet's fix)
- Cheese (too many kinds to name) and wine (ditto)
- Almond butter and creamed honey on whatever gluten-free fixin' I've got in the house
- Red grapes or cherries (no other fruit quite compare)

4. What would you do with a billion dollars?

This a hard one...what wouldn't I do?!?!?

- Buy us a house in Berkeley
- Open up our Italian Wine Bar/Arts Space on the San Francisco Bay
- Open up a Healing Center by the sea (either in Italy, Greece, or No. California Coast) - like a retreat center with art workshops, therapy, writing, music, dance, etc. for people in need of a place to process away from home (and have the guests' visit subsidized so that it would be open to people of all different economic backgrounds)
- Open up a charity in Salvatore's name and donate to several organizations (too many to list)
- Fund all my friends' art projects - films, theatre, music, writing
- Travel and do volunteer work around the world. Pay for my friends and family to travel too!
- This list could take me all night...

5. List the places you have lived.

Oh shit. Are you still with me?

- Redondo Beach, CA
- Oakland, CA
- San Ramon, CA
- New York, NY
- Berkeley, CA
- Santa Cruz, CA
- Dublin, Ireland
- Galway, Ireland
- Chicago, IL
- Rome, Italy
- Bacoli, Italy
- Pozzuoli, Italy
- Brooklyn (Carroll Gardens, r-e-p-r-e-s-e-n-t), NY
- Baia, Italy
- Monte di Procida, Italy
- (and because it all comes full circle), back to Oakland, CA

Oh, by the way, I only moved twice in my childhood (both times before the age of 3)

6. List the jobs you have had.

Oh, fuck...this will be harder than the places I've lived...I'm sure if I didn't lose you at #5, I've lost you now...

- Babysitter
- Art Gallery Assistant
- Office Production Assistant - "Mrs. Doubtfire"
- Bookstore Clerk/Assistant Events Coordinator
- UCSC Records Assistant
- Assistant Producer/Office Manager - "Uncle Gunjiro's Girlfriend" and First Voice
- Waitress/Hostess/Busbitch (I stole that title from G. Thanks, G.)/Cashier - sometimes, all at the same time.
- Actor
- Playwright
- Arts Education Outreach Teacher/Mentor
- Office Temp Worker
- Chicago Symphony Orchestra Tele-fundraiser
- Personal Assistant
- Middle School Substitute Drama teacher
- Assistant to the Artistic Director at Shakespeare at Stinson
- SF Elections Worker (I had to patrol voting precincts and hand-count ballots in a basement for weeks...eek...thank god I got a touring theatre gig to get me out of there!)
- Catering Server
- English Teacher
- SF Shakespeare Camp Voice & Movement Teacher
- Gluten-free Bakery Worker/Bookeeper
- After-school drama teacher

(I wrote assistant WAY too many times!)

7. List the names of people you want to know more about:
I think pretty much all of you have done this, but if there's anyone who's reading this who hasn't, consider yourself tagged.

Back to life

ok, so now i have that soul II soul song in my head....remember that one? back to life, back to reality....

i tried to start a post here in the last few months about 3 times...saved, unfinished drafts with titles such as "joan didion", "making choices" and "returning to life?" with a very poignant question mark. i was having such a hard time explaining what was going on with me, let alone understanding it. basically, i fell into a very deep depression like i had never known. mimmo's always said that the hardest part was not when salvatore was born, when he was in the nicu, when we had the family meeting when they told us that there was no brain activity, when we had to decide to take him off of life support, when we took him off life support, when we had to decide if we were going to cremate him or bury him, when we picked his grave, when we had the funeral, when we buried him....all moments that at those *particular times* seemed the hardest moments. no, mimmo so astutely predicted that our hardest times where actually ahead of us...living...."moving on"...and in our case, finding out more disturbing medical information, things that did not go as they should have and trying to make sense of this life. this life...

so, i fell hard in april. it began with getting these medical records from children's. feeling betrayed and angry and unable to get the details and flashbacks and guilt and grief out of my mind. i felt like i had been kicked down the staircase to the first 3 months after salvatore's death. except this time, i was instead "in the real world"...needing to teach and function and go to my various jobs. like i said, i fell hard. so hard and so deep that i didn't know how to get myself out of it. i was, for the first time, feeling extremely suicidal and in such a "rational" way about it...when i had one day where in 2 hours i actually felt like myself and then saw myself in how i had been feeling that week...the thoughts and actions and feelings...writing suicidal notes and counting ambien pills and really, truly rationalizing the whole thing, i got so scared about who that person was....that's not me....that was deep deep depression and hopelessness and how did i even go there? ironically, (or not so ironically), i was confronted with a co-worker whose mother had just comitted suicide and then another new friend revealing to me that her father had comitted suicide when she was 10. i kept my secret hidden, ashamed. i was also confused about how i could feel so strongly in those moments and then be in another moment, where i felt ok...so, i started talking about it and sought more help. i started medication and actually called in sick 2 days to work. i am continuing writing this right now, a month later, in a very different place. how life changes -- constantly is changing.

where am i today? i am in my apartment. mimmo is in italy. i will be joining him there in 11 days. one of my best friends is pregnant and her very special son is coming in september...his due date is 3 days before salvatore's due date was and 1 day after his birth. as i am packing to put our things in storage here for the next few months while we are in italy, leila is coming over and we will be going through all of salvatore's things and see what baby malachy/malachi/malakai (i've named him...whatever his name will be, that's who he is to me :-) will be wanting. it feels really right...this new baby that's coming a year later...as if salvatore is his big brother, leila and i talked about, shepherding him on.

it's funny, this life. that same month of september, one year ago, i was very pregnant and leila and j came over to have breakfast and paint my belly cast together. i walked into the room as leila was dabbing away tears and j was handing her a kleenex and i said "what's wrong?,'. "uh, it's just hard," she said. "we've been trying. i just feel frustrated." later, j asked me in a supportive way "how was that for you?," and i said "oh, it's fine," and i hugged lei and looked at her watery eyes and said "oh, m'dear, it hasn't even been that long.," "i know" she said, still wiping away tears. "they come sometimes when you just don't expect them," and true to form...she told me later that the month that they'd stopped trying was the month that they got pregnant.



i must go as she just called and we are going to the temescal street fair...much more to say....and much love to you all with deep gratitude for your messages and understanding. deep gratitude for knowing you all, even in the seeming awfulness of this part of all our journeys. but, i can say in this moment...deep hope for all of us....for all that is to be.

much much love.