I know I owe you guys a blog article about the show at Blackstones, from last weekend. And, it's in the process of being written. Or, at least it was, until I heard about the passing of a friend's mother. The news kind of took all the wind out of my sails, and has kept me kind of quiet.
How do you write about a woman who was practically a second mother to you? How do you impress upon the world how big an impact someone has had on you, just by being a part of your life?
I first met Mrs. Eaton, roughly around the time that we moved to Warren. I was 5 back then. She lived in the house up on the hill, from my parents' house. She was the mother to Ari and Alyssa...although, Alyssa at that point, hadn't been born yet.
I spent so much time at Crystal's house...although, growing up, it was always Ari's house, never Crystal and Ed's. Because, you never think that way when you're a kid. You always go to your friends' houses, never their parents. You only go to the parents' houses, when you're older, and start dating, and it gets serious. We even spent time at their house, when we weren't supposed to be...like the one time that we went to see Ari, and Crystal had gone shopping, and Ed was at work...and the doors were just unlocked, so we went in to hang out. We got in trouble. But, we were allowed back.
I loved spending time there, because it was so much different than at home. The atmosphere was so much different. Crystal was like the anti-mom to my mom. She smoked, she would have a drink every night, while my mom partook in neither. The house always smelled like a combination of woodstove and cigarette smoke, and though it has never been confirmed for me, a scent that I swear is a fully female scent.
I remember Crystal being pregnant with Alyssa.
I remember the night that we spent at Ari's house, with my parents, because Crystal's father had passed away.
And then, I grew up. And, I went away to school, and then made a life for myself. Or at least, I thought at the time that I had...I'm still working on that, in general. I played some of the same Facebook games as Crystal, and we were friends on Facebook. But, aside from the occasional, "Hey, can you send me this, or that?" or a comment on a picture, or the yearly, "Happy Birthday!" I lost contact with her.
When I first heard that she had Cancer, I was terrified for her, and for the entire family. Most of the families that I grew up around had a strong maternal head. Crystal was that. And she beat it. And then, it came back. And, it got worse. And, I never knew what to say, because I knew that nothing I could say, could make it go away. So, I said nothing. In my heart, I prayed that there would be a miracle for her, and that it would just magically be gone. And, she never knew that.
Crystal sadly, lost her fight on Monday, January 27th. She was 49. I never told her how much I loved and respected her for everything that she did for us when I was a kid.
So, how do you tell the world about someone that they'll never know, and get across the point of why they should've known her? I'm hoping it's like this. You lay yourself bare, and write through the tears. You remember everything good that you ever knew about her. You focus on the fact that she was a parent...though not my own...who has that parental intuition. And, hope that some of that kicked in, and that she somehow knew how much she meant to me.
How do you write about a woman who was practically a second mother to you? How do you impress upon the world how big an impact someone has had on you, just by being a part of your life?
I first met Mrs. Eaton, roughly around the time that we moved to Warren. I was 5 back then. She lived in the house up on the hill, from my parents' house. She was the mother to Ari and Alyssa...although, Alyssa at that point, hadn't been born yet.
I spent so much time at Crystal's house...although, growing up, it was always Ari's house, never Crystal and Ed's. Because, you never think that way when you're a kid. You always go to your friends' houses, never their parents. You only go to the parents' houses, when you're older, and start dating, and it gets serious. We even spent time at their house, when we weren't supposed to be...like the one time that we went to see Ari, and Crystal had gone shopping, and Ed was at work...and the doors were just unlocked, so we went in to hang out. We got in trouble. But, we were allowed back.
I loved spending time there, because it was so much different than at home. The atmosphere was so much different. Crystal was like the anti-mom to my mom. She smoked, she would have a drink every night, while my mom partook in neither. The house always smelled like a combination of woodstove and cigarette smoke, and though it has never been confirmed for me, a scent that I swear is a fully female scent.
I remember Crystal being pregnant with Alyssa.
I remember the night that we spent at Ari's house, with my parents, because Crystal's father had passed away.
And then, I grew up. And, I went away to school, and then made a life for myself. Or at least, I thought at the time that I had...I'm still working on that, in general. I played some of the same Facebook games as Crystal, and we were friends on Facebook. But, aside from the occasional, "Hey, can you send me this, or that?" or a comment on a picture, or the yearly, "Happy Birthday!" I lost contact with her.
When I first heard that she had Cancer, I was terrified for her, and for the entire family. Most of the families that I grew up around had a strong maternal head. Crystal was that. And she beat it. And then, it came back. And, it got worse. And, I never knew what to say, because I knew that nothing I could say, could make it go away. So, I said nothing. In my heart, I prayed that there would be a miracle for her, and that it would just magically be gone. And, she never knew that.
Crystal sadly, lost her fight on Monday, January 27th. She was 49. I never told her how much I loved and respected her for everything that she did for us when I was a kid.
So, how do you tell the world about someone that they'll never know, and get across the point of why they should've known her? I'm hoping it's like this. You lay yourself bare, and write through the tears. You remember everything good that you ever knew about her. You focus on the fact that she was a parent...though not my own...who has that parental intuition. And, hope that some of that kicked in, and that she somehow knew how much she meant to me.
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