Skip to content

Posts tagged ‘Life’

I didn’t even cry at the Zombie Walk

But I did sort of run away once.  Of course, by sort of, I mean definitely. And by once, I mean three times. But still!

My cousin Krystal is part of a non-profit group called The Mean Mommies of Fredericksburg, and they do a lot of volunteering.  This is the second time they’ve put on the zombie walk but I didn’t go last year.    Although I have my suspicions that The Mean Mommies is just a cover for this group of friends to get together, be loud and drink wine, I can’t deny that they do good work.  More than 800 people showed up to the walk this year, up 200 from last year, and they all brought canned goods and cleaning supplies to benefit the Fredericksburg Area Food Bank, Hope House, SECA and SERVE. That’s a lot of donations!

My friend Toni and I didn’t dress up, and I was a little nervous about being one of the only living people there, but there was plenty of other live bait around.  As for zombies, they were represented from one extreme to the other, from a little face makeup to full out creep-fest. And I couldn’t believe how some of them stayed in character – really, truly – the entire time we were there.  More than three hours these people moaned and shuffled around the park, occasionally walking up on someone and just staring (no biting, thank goodness) before they moved on.  Impressive!  The other thing that surprised me is all the kids, even young kids, that were totally into the whole zombie deal, not afraid at all.  They were really having fun!

Actually, everyone had fun.  Here are some pictures!  I couldn’t decide, so there are a lot:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

.

I’m glad I went!  And thanks to Toni for going with me.  She somehow got wrangled into being a judge for all the costume contests, and she was a really good sport.  By somehow, I mean that I said, “Toni will do it!”.  Also, if she wasn’t there I most definitely would have left sooner, because one of those times I would have run all the way back to my car.  All-in-all, it was a fun afternoon of zombie watching and a lot of nervous laughter on my part.  All for a good cause, too.

Year of Quotes No. 45

the Infinite Monkey speaks: say something

Random brilliance from across the blogosphere…

.

Sometimes we can’t see what others see in us. Sometimes we take for granted that they know how we feel. Sometimes I have written to people who have been shocked and amazed at the beauty I find in them, and likewise I have been shocked and amazed that they hadn’t found it before. Because it seems so obvious. Because wonderful people should know that they are wonderful. Because, I have learned, we should be telling them.

 – Francesca Zelnick

from:

Reflection

Saying Goodbye

I just got home from my aunt’s funeral.  By the time the service was over, I had a pounding headache from restraining my emotions.  There were times when the girl inside me sobbed and sobbed, while the shell that held her in blew it’s nose and wiped away any tears that managed to escape.  My friend told me last night not to do that, to just let myself have whatever emotions I felt.  But that’s easier for me to imagine than do.

My main method of emotional coping is escape. Perhaps in some part, small or large I don’t know, it’s denial.  As long as I don’t face it, it’s not real.  It didn’t happen.  It won’t turn out the way we all know it’s going to turn out.

My aunt has been sick for a couple of years now, and when I was told that they found a cancer, I thought, “Ok, so now we know what to fight against.”

The next week I was told she had between a month and a year to live.  My heart sunk, but then I thought, “Ok, a year’s a long time…there’s time to fight or to make peace with it.”

The next week I was told the doctors couldn’t do a thing for her and she probably wouldn’t make it through the end of the year.  I thought, “Ok, I’ll go see her next week when she gets settled back at the house.”

Two days later I was told that she died.

In all that time, as quick as it seemed to pass, I only called them once.  As long as I stayed away, as long as I put off a visit or call, then I could believe she was well.  It was the same after she died, when I should have called or stopped by to offer whatever support I could muster – I didn’t.  I sunk further into myself and the shield that denial and escape offered me.  In my mind, I could still almost believe that she was walking around that house, the same.  Alive.

So, guilt tinges my grief.  I feel guilty that I didn’t say goodbye.  I feel guilty that I didn’t offer support to my uncle.  I feel guilty that I wouldn’t believe I had  any amount of support to give.  I feel guilty that I chose to believe staying away was better, since it was all I could do not to cry all over him in that last phone call.  Even today I kept my distance, because I could barely look at him without bursting into tears.

(So instead I came home and started crying all over you.  Thank you and also sorry about that.)

I’ve been alone for a while now, and emotionally speaking I’ve been alone most of my life.  That’s not on anyone but me, because there have been and are people who love me and are available to me.  But I am so much more comfortable – and safe – inside of myself.  Even today, as my mom or dad showed concern for me, I wanted to turn away from that.  I don’t want my uncle to have to comfort me in my grief, when his is so much greater.  So I abandoned him.  I don’t want my parents to worry about me, so I shut their concerned words down.  I just want to hide away – I want to worry about no one but myself and I certainly don’t want anyone to concern themselves with me.

I have been as open and honest and vulnerable to my aunt and uncle as I’ve ever allowed myself to be with anyone.  And in some ways, much more so.  And yet when this all happened, I sucked right back inside myself.  I disappeared again.  These are people who nurtured my relationship with Christ, who challenged me and helped me build my faith, who led by example.  And as much as they’ve done for me, as much as they’ve given me, I ran away instead of being there.  That sucks.

Death sucks.  Saying goodbye sucks.