Cruel, Cruel Summer

Today I had an emergency meeting with a contractor about redoing my front porch. We had planned to do a little sprucing up, a new front door and freshening up our landscaping. When I went outside yesterday to ponder what kind of new front door I want, I noticed that someone had dropped something heavy on the porch floor and busted a hole in the concrete. I could see through to what looked like nothing but darkness. I went to get Tim and he pulled a little concrete back to create an even bigger hole. As with many things about this house, the front porch had not been constructed correctly. We have little by little redone most of our house to bring it up to code and our standards, but we still find places where things were just not done right.

The concrete on the porch had nothing below it. It was open and empty underneath. Hollow. The cracks and the slight give of the floor made us think it wouldn’t be long before it all fell apart. So we are going to take it off and rebuild it to make it stronger. While we are at it, we are also going to make it prettier and more up to date. Long as we are starting over, we might as well upgrade.

Weeks before my mom died, I had lost a close friend. No, they didn’t die, they just decided in a rather over the top and violent way that they no longer wanted to be my friend. At the time it was very traumatic and horribly confusing. I have never really had anyone act towards me like this person did. I was trying to process the whole incident when my mother fell and went to the hospital.

I spent the next two weeks trying to make decisions and care for her. Whenever the other issue of my former friend came to my mind, I pushed it away. I just didn’t have the energy or the time to think about what had happened.

When my mom died, the other issue I had not dealt with rushed back in compounding the hurt, sadness and trauma I felt. I decided to stay busy and so I did. I decided not thinking about all of it would be best. Getting ready for my fall workshop and vocal coaching with middle schoolers, going out to eat, to live remotes to support my newly famous son, and even going back to review a play, being on TV and writing.

At night though, the shadows take over and there is no “being busy” then. I thought about what happened with my friend. I analyzed it and thought about it. I prayed about it and agonized over it. Where they had been very quick to throw away 20 years of history, I wasn’t able to take things as lightly.

I thought about the horrid things they had said to me and contemplated whether I was really that awful of a person. I did some deep soul searching in the midst of grieving for my mother. In my mind I relived every moment of the past couple of months. And although I have lots of room for improvement and I certainly will work my hardest to make sure the insults hurled at me are never true, I finally realized two things.

First off, I realized that I am not a horrid person. I try really hard to be honest, fair, and a good friend. Do I fail miserably? Sometimes. OK, lots of times. But I try really hard to do the right thing. I realized when I was probably at my worst was with this particular friend. Some people are just not who you really need to hang out with. They aren’t who you need to be around no matter how much history you have. I realized that deep down I really didn’t like this person very much anymore, didn’t admire them or respect them and I didn’t like the person I was when I was around them. I believe they call that a “toxic” friend and I discovered that I was actually kind of relieved to not have to be around that person anymore.

The second thing I realized is that I was doing too much. Yes, I do not need to sit at home and wallow in my sadness, but I need a minute to gather myself together, be alone and just cry. Cry for this lost friendship that had reached it’s natural end, but needs to be grieved nonetheless. I need time to not be busy and just cry my heart out for my mom, who although I still feel like it all happened too suddenly, had also reached her natural end and nothing I did or could have done would have changed that. I need time to pray about all of it.

I know that life goes on, fall arrives, football games are played and careers move forward. Kids want to learn and I want to do all that I can, while I can. But in my quest to carry on, I skipped a step. Just like the people who built our front porch, I left out the hidden part underneath that needed to be filled in. In wanting to be there for others and to come off as in control, I was quickly losing control under the surface. I was trying to do just what I thought I should, but knew deep down I shouldn’t. I wanted to not be the wimp I felt like inside. I wanted to be strong. I didn’t want to disappoint all of the people who count on me to be their rock. While I was trying to be their rock, my insides were crumbling. Just like the porch, I knew eventually the little cracks would give way to a bigger collapse.

So now I am taking a moment. I am crying today. I am looking at pictures today. I am thinking about what I learned from my dissolved friendship and how to be a better friend (not to that person- that is done. I hope they have a wonderful life in whatever direction they choose to go. They just need to do it the hell away from me!!) To be more like my friends who make me want to be better and to do better, not the people who bring me down.

I am taking time to fill in the part of me that I felt giving way to engulfing sadness. To feel the pain and grief and then walk through it instead of trying to hide from it, ignore it, side step it.

I need to know that although it is still hot outside, fall is coming. And all of the things I love about fall will be more appreciated if I just take some time to get through the end of this cruel, cruel summer. Thoreau said, “We loiter in winter while it is already spring.” I know I have to move on, but I need to loiter for just a minute more, to face what the summer brought so that I can move forward with the strength I know I will need. I need to do some work to make sure I am on solid ground and maybe while I am at it learn some lessons, so I come out of this even better than before. I know that I will be once I build my porch (and myself) back the way it (I) needs to be built.

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Marietta is a graduate of the University of Montevallo with a BFA in musical theater. She has been performing for over 50 years on the stage and continues to perform, direct and teach. Marietta is married to Tim, has a son named Jon, and a cat named Penny.