Origami Spitball

Origami Spitball

Nov. 14, 2005

My 12 year-old cousin Neetanah (meaning "my daughter" in the Miami language) was struck by a car and killed on Saturday. I found out on Saturday night as I was walking into Momo's with several of my friends. Of course, I cried. A friend offered to take me home, but I decided that being alone with that kind of news after I had been drinking already (UT football at the Tavern) was not a good idea, so I decided that the best course of action was to get drunk. It didn't take much--a stiff Jameson and soda or two and I was there. I sat at one edge of the bar and ate some leftover Mexican food another friend had in her car until I was somewhat sober. Right before we left Momo's most all of my friends came and gave me great big hugs and told me how much they loved me and how very sorry they were about my cousin. Naturally, T was my rock and wound up with the wettest of shoulders. I appreciated the outpouring of love and concern. The rest of that night was filled with neverending two-stepping and crazy shenanigans underneath big, black monster trucks. It was good to get that dancing in now, as it will be the last dancing I will do for a while---according to our mourning customs.

The next morning was super rough for me. I tried to go to the gym but it was closed (how many trips to a closed gym on Sundays will it take for me to learn this??!!), so I went to run around Town Lake. After I first hit the trail, I knew running was out of the question. I had no energy whatsoever and my desire was as strong as a wet paper towel. So, I walked. As I walked, I sensed I was folding into myself edge by edge, elbow by elbow, leg by leg until I was nothing more than an origami spitball. My head reeled over the events of the last year and a half of my life. My brother's death. My grandfather's death. Totalling my truck on ice. My mother's arterial surgery. My life in Spain. Getting run over by a horse in Prospect Park. The loss of a longterm relationship. Leaving New York. Coming to Austin. Entering and leaving another relationship in record speed. The tragedy of Neetanah's death. Her mother's grief. Wow.

As I walked and thought, I saw a little pug. I smiled for the first time that day. I was staring and smiling at the dog as its owner walked toward me rapidly. I finally looked up to see the woman at the other end of the leash and after a few moments of haze, I realized that I know this woman. She came right over and threw her arms around me, held me tightly and said she was so sorry to hear about what had happened and that she knows I'll get through all of this. I needed that hug.