Days of diverse experience

Fred called on Saturday to tell me that one of my friends died. In a way I was suprised, but in some way I had known this was going to happen; I just didn't know when. Bruce had been struggling with diabetes and related problems for a long time, and had had a very bad couple of years recently. Still, his death resonates very strangely with me, because he's the first of my friends to have died.

We met in a production of Aresenic and Old Lace; he played Mortimer, and I played Elaine, the minister's daughter and his love interest of sorts. Bruce and I worked very well together, and I appreciated his hard work and willingness to incorporate my ideas with his own and the director's. He was very understanding when I was dealing with stage managing a show I was acting in (which can be hell) and trying to incorporate all of this with the rest of my life, which at the time was falling to bits. Actually, neither of us were very happy or stable in our home lives, but I think we mutually respected that we didn't carry it onto the stage.

With many people in theatre, you do a show, and then lose touch; but Bruce always stayed in touch with occasional calls and letters, cards, and so on. I remember going to his birthday party a few years ago, and singing Beatles music along with his guitar. Many of us in Bath will remember our annual picnics in the park, which for a couple of years included Bruce, his guitar, and his sense of humor.

I admired Bruce because of all the people I met in community theatre, he's the only one I knew with the ambition to chase after our common dream. MANY community theatre actors are closet professional-wannabees. He was willing to risk everything and devote himself to making a living as a professional actor. That's not an easy thing to do around here; most people are discouraged and quit before they even begin. As much as I'd love to act for a living, and feel that with a little work I could be pretty good at it; I'll never do it, because I just plain don't have the guts to take the financial risks. Bruce encouraged me toward it, but I never tried. The idea of living job to job was just too scary to me, with my health insurance, my 401k and my steady paycheck.

My most poignant memory of him, though, is of going to see "Angel Street" at Lansing Civic Players. Jeff and I had just broken up, and things were still very ugly. I had no idea if I had any friends anymore, but out of some sense of Duty (with a capital D) I wanted to go see this show, and make sure they knew I still supported their endeavors. It was the first show I have ever been to see alone, and it was a depressing experience.

After the show, though, between an awkward exchange with Jeff and my intended flight from the scene, I ran into Bruce, who was happy to talk to me as though nothing at all was amiss. We chatted for probably a half hour, and for the first time all day, I felt like Wendy Collins again, not some stranger going alone to see a show. Bruce had fallen onto some hard times, too, and had lost his girlfriend in the process. We agreed that we shouldn't have to go to shows alone, and that next time we'd go together. I left feeling a lot better, thanks to Bruce.

He called me on and off for a couple of weeks after that to see how I was doing, and to ask me to the movies. I felt somewhat guilty about saying "no", but had begun my relationship with Forest in the meantime, and wanted to devote my time to that. I never knew if Bruce was just being a really supportive friend, or if he was interested in me; at this point it doesn't matter, I guess. It only seems strange that he's gone, now, and I will never know.

I'm probably not going to go to his memorial service on Tuesday. It's not that I don't care or don't wish for him to be remembered; mostly the reason is that I have Kirstin this week, and just don't feel that it's a good time to introduce her so intimately to ideas of death and dying. I'll most likely just dedicate my next performance to Bruce's memory, and say goodbye to him privately. I don't think he'd mind, anyway.

Forest and I looked forward to Sunday all week. It was his only day off, and our planned 'family' time for the week. In fact, Kirstin had her fourth Thanksgiving feast that day, so Forest and I had the entire early part of it to ourselves. A day off and a good night spent blowing off tension had left Forest in a much better mood; in fact, he snuggled me, smiled from ear to ear, and happily told me that with me around, he couldn't possibly stay depressed for very long. I was very glad to have him back! We went to breakfast with his family, and were perfectly happy, laughing, snuggling, and back to our old selves in no time. I brief shadow fell on the day when Sean announced that we ought to spend at least part of the day taking the engine out of the blue Neon, and getting it ready for installation in Forest's red one. Forest and I groaned all the way there in the van, wishing that we could just have our afternoon together as we had planned.

I allowed myself a brief foray into despair; this had been a particularly bad week between my being sick and his being depressed, and I felt we really needed the time together to get ready for the coming week.

I decided, though, that come hell or high water we were going to spend the day doing things together, so as soon as there was a jack under the car, I squatted down in a puddle of oil and antifreeze and began breaking the wheel, brakes, and transmission off the right side of the car. It was messy, cold, and an awful lot of work, but I joined the men in their cussing and laughing, and did my level-best to be as useful as possible. I'm proud to say that I didn't spend any time at all standing around wondering what to do next. I wrestled with lugnuts, then wrestled with other bolts; then removed brake assemblies and rotors and suspension parts I can't even identify. Nearby, Forest laid on the ground in a coverall and wrestled with the engine mounting bolts, while his brother and dad worked from the top.

In the end, it turned out to be sort of fun. I got dirtier than I have probably ever been in my life, and completely ruined my blue jeans; but Forest was really glad to have me there, and I got frequent kisses and looks of amazement despite my dirtiness and cursing like a sailor. I think I suprised his dad and brother by sticking it out in the cold weather and actually being a really big help. I came out proud of myself for tackling a completely new thing, and proving myself not only useful, but humorous in the process. Forest, too, commented that he had actually enjoyed the day's work!

After that, we spent about an hour scrubbing our hands and faces, and getting warmed up in the Store, and I realized how much I miss working with Forest there. We weren't lovey-dovey at the Store or anything, but we work really well together; better than I do with any of my coworkers. We communicate so well, and know each other so well, that we compliment each other without even trying. I miss that! It was a great experience for us as a couple, I think.

After leaving the Store, we ended up getting some more of our Christmas shopping done, replacing the blue jeans I had ruined, and treating ourselves to an early Christmas gift. Forest had beaten Final Fantasy 8, and I was only 1 fight away from the end; so we bought Final Fantasy 9, which just came out. We had both intended to get it for the other, and realized as much, so we prevented our buying two copies of it this way. The best part of the day, though, was walking through the mall with him, holding his arm as I always do, and snuggling as close to him as possible. He leaned down and kissed my head, my cheek, and my lips hundreds of times, and we spent lots of time just connecting with each other and sharing lots of love between ourselves. I'm sure we make some of the more embittered mall patrons sick to their stomachs; but you know what? I just don't care. We're in love, and it shows. I can't stop smiling about it today.

After some taekwondo practice and a nice hot shower, we spent a large part of the evening snuggled up on the couch, playing games, chatting, and encouraging one another. It was one of the lovelier days on record despite working on the car and Kirstin's not getting her homework done.

This morning reared its ugly head awfully early, though, and I reluctantly went off to work. Still, it's not hard to do when I'm greeted with sweet smiles and hugs and kisses at every turn, and my sweety's affection in the car all the way to work. It's hard to believe that we've been together more than a year, and I still have such intense feelings for Forest. I am so incredibly lucky! Thanksgiving is somewhat meaningless to me this year, because I have spent MANY days of the past 365 thanking my lucky stars for this wonderful, happy, loving relationship, and for the feeling of family and home that it has brought me. I continue to feel grateful awe for such a gift.