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Five Years Later...
Five years, one month, one week and six days later. But who’s counting? In this particular instance, I am. Yet, I’d say everyone is counting something at any given time.
When I was a kid, I counted the days leading up to Christmas. Z, as an adult, would do the same thing. She’d also look under the Christmas tree, pick up a present, shake it and guess what it is. Her eternal youth will always be a fond memory.
Time isn’t the only thing we track. We track everything else that makes up our lives: how much money we have in the bank, how much debt we owe, how many friends we have on social media, etc. Some of our counts are kept to ourselves while others are broadcast for personal validation–markers of progress.
On a trivial note, I’ve kept a spreadsheet of all the movies I’ve watched since 2009. At first, I just wanted to log the movies Z. and I would watch together. Then I’ve kept up with it even after she passed.
Looking back at the google doc now is like looking through family photo albums. The first movie we watched together was Titanic on a small TV in our hotel room in July 2009. The first theatrical experience we had was (500) Days of Summer three months later.
I guess this was my way of keeping a journal without keeping a journal. Listing the movie I had just watched is a hell of a lot easier than writing your thoughts on a daily basis.
On April 28, 2018, Z. and I watched Avengers: Infinity War at the Emagine Theater in Novi. It was in the afternoon after we had lunch at the Cheesecake Factory. She never got to see Avengers: Endgame. She was in the hospital going through her final battle with cancer.
That was five years ago. And just like the movie, our world has changed. The heroes collectively had to deal with the aftermath of Thanos' snap while we collectively had to deal with Covid-19.
Unlike the movie, however, there’s never a clear ending or a solution. We don’t have a time machine or Infinity stones to make things better. In fact, I’d say the pandemic didn’t have the dramatic ending I was hoping for. The lockdowns, the masks, the social distancing just eroded over the following months. Same goes for grief: events move forward without clear closure.
However, some things do come full circle. One thing I did recently was bring Xavier back to his birthplace in Novi. The staff at the hospital had put up a memorial plaque that (due to Covid) we hadn’t had to see. Now, we did. Afterward, I took Xavier to that same Cheesecake Factory, as well as that same Emagine Theater (he really wanted to see Despicable Me 4).
Five years or half a decade–whatever you want to call it–is time that Xavier and I haven’t shared with Z.
Theordore Rosevelt once said,“Comparison is the thief of joy.” I think it’s a pretty reasonable and healthy way to go about things. Of course, President Rosevelt didn’t live in our time when every aspect of our lives are data points.
I have to remind myself that these numbers: how much time has passed, the number of movies I watched, etc, are just constructs to measure progress. And the universe couldn’t be less indifferent.
That’s both a cold and comforting thought at the same time. It’s cold because five years is meaningless in the vastness of time. But it’s comforting because you’re the only one who can make meaning out of those same five years.
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Four Years Later…The Board game, the novel and John Wick
Grief is not a straight line.
Almost four years have passed since my wife’s funeral. The last remnants of the pandemic had begun to vanish: Xavier was back in school and mask-less faces had become the norm.
At Ele’s Place, I became more of a supporting listener rather than being a person who needed support. While I empathize and honed my active listening skills, I felt I didn’t need the other widows/widowers to return the favor. Despite continuing with Xavier’s child support group, leaving my own spousal support group had become an appealing option for me. It felt like I had somehow cultivated stoicism within myself.
I was wrong. A wave of feelings–almost as if I were bi-polar–struck me these last six months. I could be laughing at life’s trivial matters one minute, then be sobbing the next. Other emotions like anger, guilt, jealousy also appeared in daily spurts.
These extreme sliding scales of emotion are not new. I felt them after the funeral and now four years later, I’m feeling them again.
The Board game
The biggest change in my Post-Z/pandemic life happened last December. I had somehow, by chance, forged a deal to start a game development company. When my business partner asked me what I wanted to name the company, I had no choice but to name it Zey’s Games–my wife’s nickname in the Philippines.
Throughout the first quarter of the year I went deep into game-development, illustrating on my tablet and printing things out on cardstock and cardboard. With the funding in hand, we were able to hire play testers to see if the board game I made was enjoyable. To my delight, many of my play testers said it was awesome.
Since it’s a cooperative board game and not a competitive board game, the play testers had to work together. Watching this random assortment of people–a waitress, a semi-professional gambler, a guy living on unemployment, a pregnant lady, a car mechanic and an exotic dancer– collaborate to defeat this board game was both exciting and intriguing. My job had become part business owner/game designer/social scientist.
A common feature in cooperative board games is that the difficulty becomes higher when there are more people. The game I designed is easier to beat with three people than it is to work with five or more. So when the first six player team beat my game in late March, it was a breakthrough. Not only did the six players participating in the game cheered but the other six play testers waiting to play also celebrated with applause. Twelve people, who didn’t know each other, had gathered and conquered this game I created. I felt like the director of operations at mission control during a successful rocket launch.
The energy in the room lifted me up but was quickly dashed by the realization that I couldn’t share this moment with my wife.
The Novel
I also finished writing a novel. I started writing it in 2015. It’s about a detective who goes back to his hometown of Ann Arbor to solve a mystery that haunted him in his youth.
I even went so far to submit it to agencies and publishers. After about eighty submissions, I had two letters of interest. These interested parties, who read the completed manuscript, have not led me to a book deal yet, sadly. However, it’s encouraging enough that I am going to give my novel one more draft and re-submit.
Z actually read the first few chapters before she died.
While thrilled I was able to complete it, like my board game, the personal fulfillment can’t be shared with my spouse.
John Wick
Z. was a big fan of the John Wick movies. She was able to see the first two. The third one came out while she was in hospice care.
John Wick, also a widower, wore his wedding ring through the first two movies.
When I finally saw John Wick Chapter 3, a month after Z.’s funeral, I had taken off my wedding ring. In that movie (spoiler warning), as a sacrifice, John Wick had to chop off his finger along with his wedding ring.
While unspoken, societal expectations nudge you into parting ways with the trinket. And for a while I was fine not wearing it. During the pandemic, where social interactions were few, not wearing my ring was no big deal. I complied with putting the mask on and taking the wedding ring off.
Then this year, with mask-less faces and social interactions becoming the norm, the anxiety and all the emotions, urged me to put the ring back on. Thinking back, truthfully, I didn’t want to take it off. I was just following the unsaid protocol of conforming to societal standards.
Not anymore. I’m going to keep wearing my ring until I have better reasons not to.
Fittingly, John Wick Chapter 4 came out this year. Spoiler warning: at the start of the film, John Wick goes searching for his wedding ring.
Adjustment Disorder with Depressed Mood
Last year, I wrote that “clarity was elusive”. This year, I gained some clarity by naming a company after my wife. By doing that, I thought, closure would come as well. It didn’t. I’m less confused, but the emotions are more potent. The pandemic had warped time and abated these feelings I’m now reckoning with. Psychologically–or at least what my health care provider calls it–is Adjustment disorder with depressed mood.
I once said that my wife was the female version of George Bailey from It’s a Wonderful Life. Like George Bailey, Z had an inherent gravitational pull. She was able to gather people, from all walks of life towards her.
After being in semi-isolation these past few years and re-entering society, I’ve met a lot of new people–from play testers, the people at Ele’s Place, my writer’s workshops; plus, most recently, a mental health therapist. I take solace knowing I’ve gained additional support to go along with my family and longtime friends. My wife might be gone, but her gravitational pull remains active.
Imagine Christmas eve during a power failure. It’s still Christmas eve, but with the absence of colorful lights, being festive requires greater effort.
Before this year, I succeeded in existing without my wife, but now living without her is the greater challenge.
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#Inktober. Day 31. Xavier’s Pumpkin.
And that’s a wrap for this year’s Inktober!
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#Inktober. Day 30. Daemon and Caraxes
Alas! The wait is going to be long for Season 2.
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#Inktober. Day 29. “Not It”
This year we’re treated with 2 Treehouse of Horror episodes on the Simpsons! Looking forward to seeing the second one tomorrow night.
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#Inktober. Day 28. The Ghost of John
Xavier has been getting into the spooky stuff.
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#Inktober. Day 27. Art the Clown.
With Terrifier 2 getting a lot of hype, I decided to check out Terrifier 1. Spoiler: It’s about a Killer Clown. In fact, that’s pretty much it. Art the Clown has no motive or backstory. The other characters in the movie are just there to be violently murdered by him. Where the movie lacks in story and character development, it more than makes up for in gore. We’re talking old school Tom Savini-like practical effects.
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#Inktober. Day 25. Podcast and Phoebe from Ghostbusters: Afterlife
Xavier is that age where he gets a kick out of watching kids just slightly older than him doing heroic stuff. That said, Ghostbusters: Afterlife was released at the wrong time last year. How can you release a Ghostbusters movie in November? It’s like having The Simpsons treehouse of horror after Halloween. But I’m glad that the movie has found its audience through streaming and that they are moving forward with a sequel.
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#Inktober. Day 22. Werewolf by Night
While the post-Endgame Marvel content has been a mixed bag with hits (Dr Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and Spider-Man: No Way Home) and misses (Eternals and Moon Knight), I did enjoy the one-hour special Werewolf by Night.
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#Inktober. Day 21. Midnight Mass
Midnight Mass has been called the best Stephen King story that wasn’t written by Stephen King. While it does share the DNA of a classic King story (especially Salem’s Lot), this isn’t just another horror story. The creator, Mike Flannigan, created a drama wrapped around horror elements. He’s called it his most personal work. You can feel it through the characters, where they’d often monologue about their existential anxieties. Like the best of King’s work, the story’s strength lies in its people and not its monsters.
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#Inktober. Day 20. Punk
Xavier is amazing at Fortnite. He can no scope, he build, he can out flank opponents with uncanny speed. It’s amazing how kids have these amazing reflexes at videogames.
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#Inktober. Day 17. Last Night in Soho.
For grays, I usually make another layer. But for this one I opted for the brush options. Not entirely entirely successful, but it’s a good experiment. Very much like Edgar Wright’s movie.
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