Death and Perfume

Death

Grandpa Nat, afraid of his mortality, imagined that he would die at any moment. He did have dramatic medical procedures for ulcers and gallstones, dangerous in his day. My mother was shaped by these events and repeated them. She also had numerous hospitalizations, and claimed to be on the verge of death throughout my childhood. She also imagined and feared my step-fathers death. Meanwhile he was happy, healthy and running around NY doing his advertising art work.

After three surgeries by the time I was 6, I too feared my death at an early age. I remember thinking at 13 that I wouldn't live to be 16.

Now I fear the death of everyone I love.

Perhaps acknowledging death is a good reality check, a way to balance the paralyzing fear and imagining. Looking at the negative, the negation as it were, of an old photo can reveal details overlooked in the original print.

I have lived through the deaths of many friends, including those of the canine variety. There have been deaths of childhood friends, and a boyfriend's suicide. There have been deaths by accidents, drugs, guns, alcohol, disease. All of it terrifies me.

As a child I imagined my spirit energy after death floating up, gravity in reverse, and giving clouds their unique shapes. I wanted my ashes to be added to blue oil paint and painted into the sky of a painting.

My pal Dennis died and came back. He said his dead mother yelled at him while he was momentarily gone. "You're not done yet!" she screamed. The whole experience made him realize that if we are not about the love and the helping, then what are we doing here? He was truly born again.


Perfume

In 6th grade, during the 70's phase of team-teaching, my class studied a unit on advertising. Three teachers were involved. I invited my bio-dad, an advertising man, to be a guest. I rarely saw him, so I probably just wanted to see him again. He accepted, and showed up at my school, tall, lanky, six-foot-four, a giant. He brought in samples of his voice-overs for Sacramento tomato juice on a little tape recorder, the bloop-bloop sounds he had made of the thick juice being poured into a glass. He played other ads, including his ads for tampons and sanitary napkins, which embarrassed the kids. Whoops!. He slammed off the tape recorder.

My mother and step-father were also in advertising. They heard that I had invited my bio-dad, and being competitive spirits they decided (without my invitation) they would come too on a different day. I don't remember their presentation, just the fight I had with my mother who decided she was running my class and could order me around in front of all the kids. I stormed out of the room.

My final project for that unit was for my favorite teacher Mr. Perucci, I drew an ad for my fantasy product: Mamma Mia's Italian Bread Perfume. Little did I know I would bake bread twice a week all my adult life, perfuming my home.