Celebration of Life

My brother-in-law sent me the invitation for Go-Go's upcoming memorial service in August. I don't know why we decided to wait until August to have her "Celebration of Life," considering she died on January 3rd. Maybe it has to do with some unconscious honoring of Midwest tradition- those who die in the winter are stored in the Church mausoleum until the ground thaws when they can be buried. It's not like we needed to wait; Go-Go was cremated in a cardboard box in a low budget crematorium in Bradenton Florida on January 5th. We decided to have her memorial in Wisconsin on her birthday, and at the time it made sense. The fact that we would wait nearly seven months after her death to have closure never occurred to us as a bad idea.

When I opened the invitation and saw the attached photo of her, I felt so sad that she is dead. I might have even said out loud: "damn, you are dead." Then I noticed that the photo was taken in my home in Bernal Heights! Go-Go had only been to my house a few times, and I'm pretty sure this picture was taken the last time she visited. She and Roger sold their place in Naples and decided to take a road trip out to California. They stopped at every gambling establishment between Florida and California. By the time they arrived, a week or so later than scheduled, they were so hungover it was astounding. They were cranky and exhausted and had a bunch of money they were spending like lottery winners, rather than retirees on a fixed income.

One day Trish agreed to take Go-Go, Roger and I shopping to Crate and Barrel in Union Square. Go-Go loved Crate and Barrel and had never seen the San Francisco store. She was beside herself with shopping madness. Moments after arriving inside the store, she began waving her arms in the air while yelling my name with her raspy cigarette and alcohol voice, "Diane, oh, Diane, come here and look at this." My girl was cringing and fighting an urge to hide from us. But Go-Go was oblivious to the inappropriateness of her shouting across the store-she was in shopping heaven. Trish does a great imitation of her inside the Crate and Barrel complete with overhead arm waving. They bought a ton of stuff for my home, stuff that was meant to make me feel loved and cared for, but rather fills me with regret and confusion. She died penniless.

Whenever Go-Go gambled she developed a sleepy eye. It was a combination of lack of sleep and alcohol consumption. I also have one lazy eye, that drifts out of focus when I am over tired. Her right eye was the one that drooped a bit after a night at the casino. In this photo, after weeks of gambling, I recognized the eye tiredness right away. Most people don't even see it. It's like her voice after a few drinks, I always noticed the elongated syllables and slurry cadence, but others looked at me like I was crazy. In this picture she is swollen from years of Prednisone, poor diet and too much booze, and she looks incredibly familiar-like herself. I did not recognize what my feelings were until my friend Jane put a name to them. Seeing that photo made me miss her terribly.