Sunday, May 1, 2011

Saying Goodbye.


Let me start by saying that "The Office" kicked my ass this week. 


Don't get me wrong.  I LOVE the "The Office" but to be perfectly honest I was not a huge Michael Scott fan.  He was just TOO awkward.  It wasn't funny so much as uncomfortable. I have enough bizarre, uncomfortable interactions in my real life, I don't need them in my TV life.


No, what I watched "The Office" for was Pam and Jim.  Dwight's out of control bizarreness. And the rest of the gang's exploits.


So it took me a little off-guard when I was so affected by Michael's leaving the show.  You thought I would have been relieved, but the writers did such a great job of allowing Michael to grow up.. you know?  The guy he could have always been was finally there.


And then this last episode with him?  He was so tender and so very vulnerable.  I think I cried through the whole thing. Then at the end with Pam?  Sobbing.


But it didn't end there.  I felt so heavy and depressed after the episode.  I tried to shake it off, but couldn't.  I watched a few more comedies and a C.S.I. (cuz trying to catch a whacko serial killer is my idea of fun).

Yet I went to bed morose.  It wasn't until I tried to go to sleep and that haunting image of Pam up on her tip toes hugging Michael came to me and I started bawling again that I realized my deep sorrow had nothing to do with "The Office."


It had to do with Gary.  I was so bitter that I did not have that last hug (see ___ blog for the full story).  I too would have stood up on my tippy toes. But unlike Pam, I would have begged, and pleaded, and screamed, and clutched.


I would not have allowed Gary to get on that plane to heaven so peacefully.


If I could have, I would have thrown a scene to end all scenes to keep Gary here with me.  I would have done ANYTHING to keep him here.


But as always when I let Gary truly into my heart and even when I am sobbing my heart out thinking that it can never be put back together, Gary comes through.


I let myself imagine what if we truly had been able to actually have that miraculous last hug.

Still, I was clutching, not ready to let him go.  Not ready to never see him again.  Not ready to never hear him say "I called it."(for the back story see this Lifarre.com article).



Then image came to me of Gary just hugging me so hard, but then making us part. 

He looked into my eyes and said, "Queenie's been alone too long."


Of course he was (or at least that part of Gary that I have internalized forever) talking about his favorite dog.


And he was of course right.  Queenie had been alone too long in heaven.  That was the one and only thing he could have said to me that would have gotten me to stop clutching at him.  His time here was done.  I didn't like it, but I felt it.



Even though I still cannot see it clearly, I felt last night that there might be some rhythm or reason to this whole life thing.  And that while I want to stay here on this plane was long as I am able, I also know what awaits me.


I know once I take that plane into the everlasting sky, who will be waiting for me and then I will get that hug I so desperately crave.  #thankyouTheOffice #thankyou

4 comments:

  1. Wow! How often do we feel and are unable to express what you have just said. Thank you so much and I am sending a virtual hug from a friend with good thoughts of peace and joy.

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  2. Very beautiful, Carolyn. It's hard to let go of those we love so deeply. To know we will see them again one day is comforting. Thanks for sharing.

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  3. Thank you for sharing, Carolyn. I have lost too many loved ones in this lifetime. Fiction can certainly be a powerful force for helping us work through our grief. Watching it. Reading it. Writing it. Keep the faith.

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