What a week

This week has likely been one of the most emotionally & physically exhausting weeks of my life.

We have been working our asses off to get ready for BU Dance Company's "Mixed Bill IV: Once More, With Feeling". This means late nights at the theater (usually till 11 or midnight) and long days of class or more rehearsal. I absolutely love it, but it is definitely draining. Our director, Debbie Belue, has taught me so much about having purpose when I dance. I feel driven to give the performance of my life because it simply isn't about me; I dance for the story I am telling. It's a lot more meaningful when it is no longer about me, anyways.

Tonight is opening night! I am extremely excited, but also extremely nervous.

While tech week has been exhausting, the more trying part of the week came with news of my grandpop's death on Wednesday, April 7, 2010. Grandpop died in hospice care at St Thomas Hospital. I know he was in good hands, but I wish I had been their to hold his as he left this life.

The last 3 weeks of my grandpop's life, since we learned of his heart failure, have been some of the most meaningful for me. I feel as though we created this deep, impenetrable bond through our time together, but I wish that we had more time to spend now. It is so bittersweet to have bonded so deeply together through death. I have learned a lot about John Sessoms in these last few weeks, and I feel like I have in turn learned about myself. I know my roots a little bit better now. I am proud to have John Sessoms' blood in my veins.

Tomorrow is the funeral, my first ever. I don't know how that will go. I'm unsure of how it will feel to know that his body is on the other side of a piece of wood, yet he isn't there to hug me and tell me how beautiful and grown up I am. I want to hear him say just one more dinner-time prayer, the kind that lasts almost five minutes and causes a lot of hand-squeezing and hushed giggles from the grandkids. I want to hear him and grandma get in one of their cute 50-years-of-marriage spats. I want to squeeze his wrinkled, soft hand. I want to see his precious track suits and his crooked nose. I want to hear his voice raise as he gets excited or revved up. I want to tell him how much I love him just one more time.

John Sessoms was a good man. (It's really hard to use the past tense.)
I'd even say he was a great man.
I feel so blessed to have had him in my life. And I'm looking forward to nurturing my relationship with my grandmother. I bet that's what he wants more than anything right now, is for someone to take care of his bride & keep her company. Shoot, he loved that woman with a fiery passion that I hope I can keep burning through 60 years of marriage.

John Sessoms knew love in a way most people just can't. He experienced love. He emoted love. He taught me so much of love.

We already miss you hugely, Grandpop.