Tornadic Lows

R.I.P.

I was going to call today’s blog post “Depression” associated with the departure of my daughter and Wing Man but I shelved that idea when the news about Robin Williams started to circulate.  I grew up with the incredibly manic funny man and always enjoyed his work even when he departed his normal comedic roles for serious work.  He always had that impish smirk hovering just below the surface of his eyes that signaled one of his signature rants was just a breath away.  Unfortunately the price he paid for his comedy genius was depression and those demons finally came home to rest yesterday.  Depression is such an insidious thief of potential; I lost a sister to it at a young age.  It all feels so pointless now when you the tidal wave of love being expressed for this truly gifted man that he couldn’t break through his illness to realize how well loved he was.  I will remember him most for his hilarious stand-up comedy.  The Keene Friend and I made a habit of watching young comedians together back in the day and were together when Williams burst on the scene.  I fondly recall his Shakespearian rendition of “The moon hangs like a testicle in the night!”  Captain my Captain, you left us too early.

Daughter and Wing Man Preparing to Abandon Me

The rest of the day wasn’t any easier on my battered psyche.  My wife and the PanaGals extended their stay in Maine for an additional day and I had the onerous task of relinquishing the company of my daughter and Wing Man.  The trip to Connecticut was its usual delightful prospect further embellished when I knew I had to leave them in New Haven for their NYC train.  I thought I was prepared but when I gave them their last hugs I felt a huge knot of emptiness in the middle of my chest.  In the immortal word of that noted military philosopher John Ringer, “Then depression set in.”

In New Haven The Moment Before My Chest Cavity Opened

I know, at least in part, the pain of the separation was that in addition to being incredibly good company, they also represented the last vestige of the past weekend and the wedding celebration.  I was desperate to maintain some kind of connection because I didn’t want to let go of the emotions from that cherished time.  As I wrote earlier, time’s inexorable march is a stone cold bitch.  I couldn’t shake the feeling for the rest of the day despite Buddy’s best efforts to lift my spirits.  I almost think it would have been better to have gone back to work, almost.

I tried to stay busy at home doing chores but the house was just too empty.  I snuck out for another movie and saw the disaster flick Into the Storm.  This was the movie Twister on steroids and improved CGI.  It follows some storm chasers into a series of mega-tornadoes hitting an Oklahoma town on graduation day.  There are additional plot lines about a family in the town and your typical American rednecks.  Thorin Oakenshield plays a high school principal/father and spends the entire movie trying to unsuccessfully mask his British accent.  This is a really bad movie that is rescued by the storm shots which really are next generational kind of stuff.  Even though you know it’s a movie its almost riveting watching these tornadoes march across the landscape, especially when it sucks up a fire.  In the end though it’s hard to really care about the characters being threatened and in a disaster flick you need someone to root for.

The movie did nothing to lift my spirits but a late night phone call from my son did everything.  He reported landing in Hawaii with his Mrs. after a daylong series of flights.  They were both exhausted by looking forward to paradise for the next two weeks.  Just hearing his voice was enough; that empty pit in my chest shrunk immediately.

PanaGals in Maine

Meanwhile, up in Maine, my wife and the PanaGals continued their depredations. They extended their stay so they could take a day trip up to Bar Harbor (Bah Hawbah to us locals) and Acadia National Park.  My wife sent a series of photos late last night and reported a fantastic day although she did fall victim to her trust issues with the GPS when they were trying to make their way down from Cadillac Mountain.  What she lacks in navigational skill she more than makes up for with joie de vivre.  They’re back today as long as they don’t run into too many TJ Maxxes along the route. 

Bar Harbor

My Wife and Her Twin Sister in Maine

Ms. Joie de Vivre

My Goofy Sister in Law

Two of the PanaGals and Virginia Musquetera

She Also Sent me a Picture of My Sister in Law from the Weekend

My Navigationally Challenged Wife and her Fellow Musquetera