MY FIRST VISIT TO FLORIDA, January 1995, Palm Beach
Dadās funeral, the whirlwind of seeing Rachel and Keelan for the first time in 12 years, absorbing the loss even as I felt no true grief for the man, only grief for a wound that would now never be healed, grief that my daughter lost a POTENTIAL actual grandfatherāthe last she had, staying in THAT HOUSE/MANSION IN PALM SPRINGS, Boz being shattered, Karina and Dorothy and Walter and their grief, the Ireland of it all being SO HEAVY, how warm and sunny it was even in late January, the High Catholicism funeral in the cathedral complete with incense and me (ME!) being asked to do a READING of some selectedā¦scripture?āmustāve been, I canāt remember because honestly, it was all too much. Two days. Not enough yet too much all at once.
Yes Iām haunted but Iām feeling just fine
SECOND VISIT TO FLORIDA: April 1997, Orlando
With James, to Disney World and Universal Studios, Clay has a condo for us, surprise! Clayās already there! Iāll pay for all the admission to everywhere if you just pay for your flight, DEAL!, being dependent on a cane, in constant pain while weight-bearing but my dr had not yet figured out what it was, seeing Rachel again under much better circumstances, light recreational drug use while partying with James and Clay and Rachel on whatever island that was, late at night, everybody drunk, we were drunk, Rachel and Clay hitting it off and dancing with a hundred other people VERY SUGGESTIVELY, and Jamesās subsequent meltdown over Clay wanting to be somehow sexual with A WOMAN and heās a whore and on and on and then the next day sober acting like it never happened because nothing whatsoever happened between Rachel and Clay omg, going on all the rides before everybody else, no standing in line, because I was LITERALLY CANE DEPENDENT, the sensory overload, it was all 100% amazing and I was very sad to leave.
This was the first significant amount of time I got to hang with Rachel, and I fell in love. Sisters!
THIRD VISIT TO FLORIDA: November 1999, Palm Beach, Rachelās wedding
Drunk, emotional, fabulous experience that felt like living through a hurricane. Of feelings! The Palm Beach Hotel, the spa at the PGA Gardens, the last day brunch on the beach when it was cloudy and drizzly and windy, the rehearsal dinner at that dope restaurant on Worth Avenue, the party at the Phippsbergerās with Inigo spraying tequila into my open mouth with a spray bottle and drunk driving golf carts around the estate, Boz in a cow suit (!!!), talking to Walter and getting some details about Dadās childhood, feeling very Irish, very Butler heavy, Marie getting so hammered she fell down on the pavement (which, boy do I retroactively empathize with how bad that mustāve hurt), that chat with Jeannie about Dad omg, Mirandaās blossoming beauty that was definitely attractive to boys, the fun she had being a bridesmaid, her and Blanaidās instant connection, that awful Patrick, getting high with Keelan at the reception in the tall hedges in front of Dadās memorial tree, that friend of Dadās who sat at our table and upon learning who I was, informed me that my father hadnāt been married prior to his marriage to Rachelās mom, with such audacity and authority, my polite yet forceful recitation of the fact that I was, in fact, Jimās oldest biological DAUGHTER and oh btw this girl next to me is his ONLY GRANDCHILD SO FAR, and him taking a moment to process, then saying ohhhhh, New York. Yeah, asshole, I thought. NEW YORK. After that he realized who we were, asked about Jay, and kissed our asses for hours. Hilarious. A fever dream. Joy and sorrow and gratitude and love all in one chaotic three-day weekend.
Itās one hell of a drug
FOURTH VISIT TO FLORIDA: March 2001, Daytona Bike Week
Wild veer between severely traumatic and utterly blissful. Met Lisa <3 Day. Loved her. Fran and Ron ditto. The other Ron, the one who gave us his cat before he retired. Waking and baking (except my husband.) Copious quantities of alcohol. Too much alcohol, as it turned out. The 10 pills, the hate in my heart for my husband, the ambulance, the ER, the coldness he displayed towards me for the rest of the trip despite knowing HE was the reason I kinda wanted to die and which he continued for a few days after we got home, as per usual. Passive-aggressive fuckery. One hell of a drug, charcoal is.
FIFTH VISIT TO FLORIDA: the very next month, April 2001
Orlando, West Palm, Palm Beach, Cocoa Beach, Julie and Sharon and Lisa Day (again!), in Cocoa Beach when the weather was so bad the wind was whipping the sand straight into our FACES, rendering sitting on the beach impossible (we joked it was free microdermabrasion to make us feel better that the one day we had all together was under such shitty weather), getting drunk instead and ordering takeout from Dennyās the next morning, hungover as fuck, Rachel and baby Liam, her husband basically ripping me off for $50 by taking my money to go get me weed, never to be heard from again), getting cafe con leches and Cuban sandwiches with Keelan, madness, escapism, all manner of substance abuse (just weed and alcohol, but some of the drinks and liquor store runs produced some increasingly complex cocktails), desperately delaying my return to real life, which was circling the drain back home, the dread was a physical thing I felt every single minute, but thankfully cell phones were limited, we didnāt have any, but stillā¦and yet. Control was exerted and I submitted and went home strictly because I love my daughter.
So you pack your life away
Just to wait out the shitstorm back in Texas
And Iāve never been back. It all seems like a fever dream of colors and heightened emotions and hotel rooms and mansions and a hurricane with my name and me and my ghosts and laying to rest all the bodies that had been on my body and barricading myself in the bathroom with a bottle of wine, check, check, check.
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