i used to imagine were i to get married what my wedding would be like. most of the time i envisioned it at a catholic church in the woodlands, not far from where i live, and because my father is who is and is so well-loved by so many, i doubt very much the guest list would've been fewer than two hundred people. it would've been big... not so much because i wanted big but because i would've felt a need to invite so many. more presents, right?

but what i really wanted was small and simple. i wanted to get married at my great uncle's monastery so he could be there. and because my faith was rooted in that place. and because i wanted to celebrate on the lawn at sunset with my family. i would've wanted my spouse's family to know the tranquility of that place, and i would've preferred that chapter of my life to begin in someplace quiet and content.

of course, the older i got the more difficult it was for me to picture this future. my twenties came and went. my thirties. i'm halfway through my forties. the older i got the more ridiculous the picture seemed to be.

and then the monastery closed last summer.

and my munkle died this week.

i broke down at work today because the thing i most wanted to give him -- the knowledge that i would find that kind of love and have that kind of a life... that all his hopes and prayers for me had become reality. i couldn't give that to him. 

an image of what that day could've been like came to mind so fully that i was taken aback. i gripped the counter for balance and then fell to my knees and wept.

thank god no one was in the store. no one came in while i was crumpled on the ground.

brett young's mercy was playing. if you're gonna break my heart just break it.

i don't know how many more times mine can break.

let there be light

my aunt killed herself on wednesday.

i have always viewed my brother's death as a suicide -- but his method was painstaking and debilitating. he drank and drank and drank until his body said enough, and it took about a decade for that end to come. i lost my brother a long time ago, but was fortunate, just before he left us, to catch a glimpse of the man i knew him to be.

this woman, she'd been gone for years. i was too young when she married into my family to appreciate her personality to the fullest, and as i aged, her character got dimmer and dimmer and dimmer... i did not know her. 

it's easier for me to cope with her absence because i didn't know who she was. i knew of her struggles, and i know how depression can intensify them so that light, faith, hope and love are altered or altogether lost. there's a part of me that knows relief for her now. it's done. she's no longer crushed under the weight of burdens too impossible for her to bear. 

that weight, though... it, like the darkness, has shifted.

it's easy to hate when this kind of death occurs. it's easy to be angry. all that darkness, despair, fear and hatred migrate from the body of the deceased to the hearts of the living. 

it's easy to attach blame. someone somewhere must've said or done something that caused so-and-so to break.

it's easy to say that person was weak and selfish and stupid.

then we immortalize the dead -- assuming we loved them, of course. kurt cobain and robin williams are some of the best examples of this. it's such a tragedy. such an easy topic for conversation. how sad! can you believe? why didn't that person reach out for help? did you know? her instagram is always so fun and upbeat; she couldn't possibly have been depressed. and then there are the pleas from the public to get help, to reach out. to stay. hell, i've made them myself. 

i have been depressed since i was eight years old. when i was in college, i gave a presentation in an education class on child suicide, and when i was done, one of my classmates -- a middle-aged black man -- asked, so you wanted to kill yourself because you weren't a good daughter, sister, student and friend? 

i wanted to slap him. i managed to maintain my composure and responded: when you're an eight year girl, your only responsibilities are to be a good daughter, sister, student and friend, and i was failing at all of them. i reminded him that during the school year as future teachers we would see these children more than their parents would. i insisted that it wasn't a teacher's job to judge the burdens a child carries but to help that child carry them, and if that's not possible then find someone who can.

it's easy to belittle someone's struggles. it's EASY to belittle someone's pain.

by the time i was ten, i had a plan.

i've had one for thirty-five years. several, in fact. i know all the ways it can be done. i know there's never been a day where i've not thought i want to be dead. i know i wouldn't leave a note. those who know me best know damned well why i would want to leave this place. 

i also know i would never do that to my parents and brother, to my niece and nephew. i don't want one of those children to ever have to say my aunt killed herself today.

my facebook and twitter feeds are raging with suicidal thoughts. i need this to stop. i need, so much, to see light and faith and hope and love in social media, now more than ever.

  please god, let there be light.

four things celebrated in may

one. dwayne "the rock" johnson was born on may second of nineteen seventy-two. watch one of his movies. share a couple of his lines you loved.

okay. i watched jumanji: welcome to the jungle. i did not love any lines of dialogue from the film. not a damned one of them was remarkable enough to recommend it here.

two. adam yauch of the beastie boys died six years ago on may fourth at age forty-seven. what's your favorite song of theirs? give me four reasons why it's better than the rest.

the four reasons are in the lyrics:

a. they be staring at their radios

staying up all night

so like a pimp, i'm pimpin

i got a boat i eat shrimp in

got arrested at the mardi gras for jumping on a float

my man mca's got a beard like a billy goat

b. making other records cause the people they want more of this

suckers they be saying they could take out adam horovitz

c. but i rock well...

the patty duke show...

and then i bust the tango

got more rhymes than jamaicans got mangoes

that's my peg leg, that's the end of my stump

shake your rump

d. never been jumped

cause i'm the most mackinest

never been jumped

cause i'm the most packinest...

running from the law the press and the parents

is your name michael diamond?

no, mine's clarence

three. george lucas will turn seventy-three on may fourteenth. solo, the latest film in his star wars franchise, will be released on may twenty-fifth. rank all the films best to worst. where does this one fall on the list and why?

empire strikes back

return of the jedi

a new hope

the force awakens

solo: a star wars story

rogue one

revenge of the sith

phantom menace

attack of the clones

the last jedi

because i loved seeing the history of his character; i liked how none of the characters, save chewbacca, are reliable; i love alden's portrayal of han solo; i liked how the story tied in with the rest of the series; and i enjoyed it more than all the ones listed afterward.

four. emily dickinson died on may fifteenth, eighteen eighty-six. read this poetry foundation article. what are five things you learned about her from it?

a. after her death, family members found her hand-sewn books, containing nearly eighteen hundred poems.

b. the first volume of her poetry was published in eighteen ninety, four years after her death -- eleven editions were published in less than two years.

c. a complete volume of her poetry did not appear until nineteen fifty-five, but the poems were edited.

d. the first edition that reflected her order, unusual punctuation and spelling choices was not published until nineteen ninety-eight.