Side effects

I was talking to a friend today about how loved ones' deaths have affected me. There have been some quirky things, which is what got me thinking about the subject.

When Mark died, I stopped wanting to see movies. I lost my tolerance for gratuitous violence (except, oddly, in John Waters' Suburban Mom, which was just silly). I also got annoyed at the typical plot formula in which the woman is punished -- either she loses the job and gets the man, or she gets the job but has to suffer the loss of the man. And those are the movies you're supposed to feel good about afterwards. Yuck. For a while, I could just watch documentaries and mockumentaries (thank you, Christopher Guest). Pretty much, though, I've given up on movies and only go at the extreme urging of a friend. Oddly, I can watch all sorts of live theater. Go figure.

I also stopped wanting to make phone calls. I'm getting better, ten years later, and I can call Robert easily. But it's hard to call friends (I'm putting off making a phone call right now), and it's especially hard to call workers whom I think I'll need to call multiple times. I just hate it. I'd much rather use email.

I can be very shy and withdrawn around people. But I can also be shockingly direct. Sometimes I feel like life and time are so short that I might as well get right to the point and make small talk afterwards, the exact opposite of how most people operate.

Mark was an architect and loved design. I feel unusally moved by beauty and elegance, both man-made and in nature. There are a few spots on my regular driving routes where, regardless of weather or light, I feel deeply moved. The same is true in Provincetown and at the beach there, a special place that Mark and I enjoyed together. When Robert and I walked into the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (aka SF/Moma), I nearly cried and said "I feel like I'm experiencing this for two." (Robert, bless him, understood.)

There is much I have learned, too, though I'm not always able to put it to good or obvious use. I've learned about loving and being loved. I've learned about making mistakes, acknowledging them, and moving on quickly. I've learned about how strong most humans' life force is -- the yearning to keep living beyond what we think we can tolerate. I've learned about good humor, generosity, kindness, and graciousness, not all from the dying or surviving, but those people have reinforced the lessons (ok, I'm a slow learner).

A friend wrote recently to say that she didn't know how to "repay" me for mere kindness. For me, all she has to do is keep passing the gift on to anyone, not necessarily me, when she is ready, when she has energy. That gift is so small and so very big at the same time. OK, time to pick up the phone.