Daron's Guitar Chronicles Vol. 13 (contd)

1105 Live and Let Die

Live and Let Die

After my sister left, I sat there with the Miller in my lap, but I couldn't quite bring myself to play it. I felt like if I tried to start playing or singing I was just going to cry my eyes out, and that would hurt like hell. I wasn't ready for it to hurt that much.

So I sat there, without moving, just breathing. In the back of my mind I think I was going over the song, but maybe I was just blank. When I try to meditate, I can never get to that state. Seems unfair, doesn't it?

Maybe I was just tired. I woke up hours later, lying flat on my back on the couch, the guitar on top of me. I put it in its case and brushed my teeth and crawled into a proper bed and slept, which was merciful, because the previous night I'd just lain awake thinking again and again about Claire's last moments. I'd cycle through thinking about various things from the past seven months, and then I'd come right back to standing in that room beside her bed. The moments at her bedside stacked up like a deck of cards, each one similar when riffled through and yet unique.

Not this time, though. Maybe I was finally past that? I slept right through until the morning when the phone ringing woke me.

I went to grab it and then my brain locked up. What if it was Patty? Or Ziggy?

Or just Remo wanting to know if I wanted breakfast, which was the most likely option. I picked up the receiver, and croaked out froggily, "Cohen's Deli and Financial Advisors. Lox or stocks?"

A familiar laugh greeted me. "You nut. I'm looking for a ride from the airport." Bart!

I wonder if I'd subconsciously known it was him, given the greeting I'd picked. "I'm the nut? You started it."

"I'm pretty sure Christian started it. He sends his condolences. Michelle's here, too. And Colin."

Oh. Wow. It hadn't occurred to me so many people were showing up. "Um, let me see. You're not renting a car?"

"Court seemed to think we wouldn't need one."

"Aha." I looked around for the car keys and didn't see them. "I think maybe she's already on the way to pick you up, but let me–"

"Whup! Never mind. Michelle sees her. See you in a bit."

"Yeah, bye." If Court had told me who was showing up, I didn't remember. I recalled her saying Claire didn't want the church too empty for her memorial service, but if my sister had given me names, they'd gone in one ear and out the other.

But my friends weren't really there for Claire's sake. They were there for mine, to support me. I really didn't know what that meant. I guess I was glad they were there, even if there wasn't anything I could really say I needed from them specifically. Carynne came on a later flight, and Alan Mazel (but not his brother Alex). And so the next thing you know I spent that entire day and evening with people coming and going and getting meals and so on, and the next thing you know it was midnight and way too late to practice without waking people up.

It's funny. A couple more people asked where Ziggy was. I guess I'd perfected the "he had something to do" line because they all just nodded like it was okay. Or maybe they took their cues from me. As long as I seemed to be okay with it, it must be okay? Or maybe there were enough subjects being avoided that it was merely another one.

People act weird about death sometimes. I suppose that's to be expected. I mean, when it comes to things that freak people out, death is high on the list. Everyone's trying not to say the wrong thing, trying not to add to the pain, but then everyone's got their own issues, too. It meant being with people constantly for two days leading up to the actual memorial service was not exactly low-stress socializing, even with people I knew. The good part about having all these folks around was that they insulated me from my older sisters somewhat, which I think was generally good for my health.