So today I had a truly jarring experience that I wasn't ready for.
I had to fill out a medical form and for the first time in 4 years, I didn't have anyone to put as my "in case of emergency" contact. For years I have been putting my (now ex) boyfriend's Mom, who in the past has shuttled me back and forth from tooth surgeries and numerous other "mishaps" (of which I have a lot.) I almost wrote Lynn's name on the form and had to stop myself. The rather pregnant pause that I took while trying to think of another human who would be willing to use their gas and time seemed to take forever and I think it scared the receptionist a little bit because I looked so perplexed. In the end, I left the area blank. There was this gaping hole on the form that really set me thinking. I guess I assumed that I would always have Lynn in my life and while someday she might be a part of it again, for the time being, it would not be appropriate of me to ask that much of her.
I got a little sad. I realized for the first time in 4 ½ years, that I am really alone in CA. I got so used to the fact that the Gambino's were my pseudo family that it feels foreign to not have that around anymore. The best I can liken the feeling to is when I went to the first family Christmas after my grandmother had passed away. I remember walking through the door and giving my grandpa a hug and automatically turning to hug grandma…who wasn't there. There was this hole of carpet, where she was no longer going to be waiting for me. In that moment I remember feeling truly sad. I didn't cry at the funeral (mostly because I had to sing) but that was the closest I came to crying over her death. This felt oddly similar. Obviously not on the same scale, but still a loss and still very sad.
I can remember quite clearly the day that Lynn drove me to get Oral surgery in some horrible shop-o-horrors in the valley and feeling very happy that someone was going to be there when I staggered out of surgery clutching my jaw. I was even more grateful for Lynn when we got into the surgery's reception area and it was filled with a bunch of geriatrics who had either lost their teeth or their minds (and in some cases both.) Everyone there had someone waiting for them and I began to see that while yes it is a safety issue, it is also a comfort issue. Even though people were sufficiently drugged and not of their right minds they were still happy to see the "in case of emergency" person when they came out of the room of horror.
I am excited to be free and to rediscover parts of myself that were long dormant, but I still mourn the loss of that family. They were my holidays and my hugs, they provided a warmth that I was missing when I moved down here all by myself. I like to think that I am a vastly independent young woman and that I can be strong and resilient, but the truth of the matter is, sometimes I am not. I don't like relying on other people or assuming that someone will be there for me and a realized today that I took that family unit for granted.
Being single in LA is not a very easy thing to carry off with one's sanity intact…I guess I am going to have to put my five year plan in action and start buying more cats.