Thoughts at 3am

Naps are why I can't have nice things.

In 1991 I decided to take a nap in the middle of the day, and when I woke I flipped on the TV only to learn that the entire Oakland hillside was on fire.

Ever since then I’ve been mildly paranoid about taking naps.

Yesterday afternoon I plopped onto my cozy Cal King bed, and being retired and single, I slept luxuriously and peacefully all the way until almost 9pm.

So now, my circadian rhythm is officially fucked. And it’s my birthday.

Meanwhile, when I woke last night there were several texts from family members. But the messages were not birthday wishes. My niece, Sarah, had passed at 43 (from a diseased liver).

While her death didn’t shock me, it does sadden me, and no doubt it has devastated her big sister, parents, and other family members. We all knew this day was coming. But the situation absolutely SUCKS.

I am very sad, but I’m also not sure whether condolences from me will be welcome, so I’m just gonna post my thoughts here, where very few peeps (let alone family members) are likely to read them.

I lost contact (on purpose) with Sarah’s father (my older brother) in 2019, which was the year my father, mother, and younger brother all passed, one by one, from alcohol-adjacent issues. It was The Year Of Death. (Then COVID said hold my beer…)

If there was a funeral or memorial service for any of them, I don’t know, because they were 3000 miles away, and after many, many, many years of ignoring my requests to stop sending stupid, offensive political msgs, my redneck brother finally honored my requests for silence. So I was not in the loop, and didn’t want to be.

I did not and still have not shed a tear for any of them, since they each gradually obliterated any warm feelings in my heart long before they passed. All I felt was a sense of relief that my parents and younger brother would never again drive a car, or vote.

My niece Sarah, on the other hand, was a smart, empathetic, funny woman who went through the trauma of open heart surgery three times by the time she was 14. No doubt this had a significant neurological impact on her that I can only imagine.

My fondest memory of Sarah was when she was a teenager. I sneaked her a beer while we were all sailing on my dad’s boat. (Funny how my mother’s teaching salary paid for the boat, but it was HIS boat. But I digress…)

Sarah and I had a “real” conversation that day while sitting up top. She was authentic, smart as a whip, and fearlessly funny. Seemed headed for a bright future. I was very proud of the person she was becoming.

Thousands of miles and busy lives muddled our relationship after that. Eventually misperceptions online (and my antagonistic relationship with her dad) led to disconnection. It seemed best to just let go, so I did. I was also very busy raising my own daughters.

As I sit here now, trying to express my feelings at 3am, what I feel most strongly is gratitude. For knowing Sarah and witnessing times when she made her sister and others laugh and express love. Her smile is unforgettable.

I’m also grateful for the favorable cards I’ve been dealt in life. Alcohol has been destroying relationships on my side of the family for decades, and it’s not like I haven’t had my own share of “teachable moments” in front of my kids after drinking too much. But for the most part I have managed to dodge this bullet.

I only hope my loved ones have learned as much from watching my bag of molecules make mistakes over the years as they have from watching me rally against life’s challenges with humility and courage.

You will be missed by many, Shleerah. May you nap peacefully.