Today I am thankful that I can actually feel something other than sadness...if even for a moment.
I'm still having nightmares of a dead body burned in a fire up in the mountains. I've had this dream for over a month (since Oct. 5th)
A couple of days ago, I learned a dear colleague who had been missing for three weeks had driven his car up into the mountains and set himself on fire inside of his vehicle . He possibly did this out of guilt for killing someone in a hit and run. He was a very kind, empathic nurse. It's hard to imagine him not stopping and letting his victim die in the street**.
This is the worst end I could imagine for anyone - let alone him.
It's hard to go to work.
I had to hold back tears when I saw a picture of this man's car on a friend's phone.
I cry on the drive home.
It will eventually pass.
There are daily prayers for his soul and his family.
I am grateful that it wasn't the person it looked like initially in the dreams. It was a relief to know that he was okay.
Then again, Rich was tall and had the same color eyes. The body was charred beyond recognition.
I would have preferred that no one die in a fire.
It took three weeks to identify Rich.
It's hard to imagine that the dreams were a premonition. It's just a sick coincidence.
It's a shame I bothered the person I thought it was four hours before my colleague's name was announced as the decedent.
This Covid stuff has me worried about everybody. Wish I knew how I could be more of a support to those I care for.
****
I got home around 0300. We had a cranky soul admit so I stayed late to help out. It's weird, I see homeless walking around the highway at 0245. Why do they feel the need to walk so late at night?
****
There was a very teeny tiny moment of joy for me this afternoon.
Last week I had ordered what was billed as a brand new CD from Chaka Khan entitled "Funk This."
Yeah, I love that title.
It came out thirteen years ago. I always wanted one but couldn't find it.
I paid $12 for it.
It came in today. I was soooo excited to listen to it on the drive to work thinking it would distract me from the tears.
Chaka Khan makes me happy.
She wears her hair the same way I do. She makes me feel like my hair isn't disturbingly fluffy. I have a burgundy fro (unless I wash my scalp with a lot of apple cider vinegar, then I have an orange top that morphs into a dark auburn towards the bottom).
The only other thing I have in common with this great singer is that I can sing maybe two of the same notes she can (by accident on course).
The bass lines in her songs are always kickin'.
Other than that, I love to listen to her music and pretend I can sing something - which I can't. So....if you're in the Hypnomobile and you hear the beautiful voice of Chaka Khan, take some earplugs out of my center console. You're gonna need them if I try to emote.
Or we could get you some wireless headphones and tape up my mouth.
Today you wouldn't have needed them.
I was smiling and happy when I unwrapped the CD. The case was legit. The CD itself seemed legit.
The music was okay.
It was mariachi music.
When Donald Trump was first elected, I would have happily serenaded the Trump Towers dressed as a mariachi if I weren't afraid of the accusation of cultural appropriation.
I love mariachi music.
One of my favorite movies is El Mariachi (the old version - not the one with Antonio Banderas). Back in the early 90's, I tried to learn Spanish by watching that movie over and over. The protagonist reminded me of myself. I wanted to be a musician but there was always some stupid troubling drama or injury that put me on a different path.
I just wasn't cool enough to hide guns in my bass guitar cases.
Anyway - I'm disappointed and sad. I have to go to YouTube to get my Chaka Khan fix.
It's not the same as having an actual CD that I can wail to in my car.
Sigh.....
Love you lots,
S.
** NEXT DAY EDIT: The tears are still there but they are fewer and farer between. A colleague confided that Rich told him the day after the accident that he thought he may have hit something but wasn't sure. My colleague said that Rich was having trouble with his eyes. That was the last day anyone saw him.
It's hard to imagine that I'll never hear his beautiful voice awkwardly describe a gay sensual scene in a foreign movie ever again.
He always knew how to make me actually walk out of a room to take a break so I didn't have that stuck in my head when I was trying to sleep. I hate taking breaks. Now, I wish I would have stayed for the story.
May he rest in peace.