Mourning

I am filled right now with rage and sadness, because today we learned that the awesome and most beloved Macho Man Randy Savage was killed this morning in a car accident. For Jesse, the loss is extravagant; his childhood hero taken by some cosmic force that felt it necessary that the world no longer needs folk of his kind. For me, I sit here mourning my husband who mourns his hero, because for the first time in WEEKS he woke with a smile and was happy. For the first time in weeks, his life didn't seem like a dead end, a constant cycle of monotonous everyday routine mixed with issues of being sober and deep, dark thoughts. No, today was supposed to be different. We were getting back on track...and then this.

I felt uneasy this morning, for no apparent reason. I felt like there was something looming, but rarely do I actually associate it with some catastrophe in the making. No, I generally assume it's just that part of my brain that's learned to work in overdrive, so I go through the motions of calming myself down. I got up and made some breakfast after a little snuggling with my happy husband. I sat at the table with Jadzy and ate breakfast while reading the slew of updated statuses on Facebook...and there it was. An old friend, living in Florida, posted: "RIP Randy savage." Holy. Shit. What? At first I thought she must have a friend named Randy Savage, 'cause there's no way Macho Man is dead. I did what any panicked, computer nerd would do in a situation of uncertainty: I turned to Google. Googled "Macho Man" and came up with a Wikipedia that had beginning and end years and for some reason it registered in my brain that he had died a while ago. After about two minutes of that, I realized just how WRONG I was, 'cause I remember reading an article about him and his new wife about a year ago. HOLY. SHIT! Back to google I go with the refined "Randy Savage" and there it was. DIED. May 20th, 2011. From a car accident. Holy FUCK!

"What the fuck do I do now?!" is what instantly went through my mind. Selfishly, I didn't want to tell Jesse...I wanted to keep this happy husband HAPPY, and I wanted to keep with the warm fuzzy feelings...and I knew that one word of this wouldn't make any of that possible. WHY? Jesus, God, whoeverthefuckyouare, why?!

I'm furious, to the point of tears. I hold my sobbing husband in my arms and all I can do is sob too, for HIM; mourning HIM because the happy, healthy, warm and fuzzy HIM is now GONE thanks to some great divine design to "off" his childhood hero. We are WELL beyond the point of "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" because we have been dealing, coping and living with a constant barrage of disasters, one after another. Don't we deserve a FULL 24 HOURS to be happy?! Just 24 hours of him smiling and me not feeling like I'm going to go insane...is that REALLY so much to ask for? Well, apparently so.

And now, across the world, the generations of Wrestling fans are in mourning, and my husband, my mother-in-law and my son are part of them. The World of Wrestling and Entertainment lost a pinnacle character today, and I hope like hell the McMahon family doesn't tarnish him like they did with Chris Benoit (another devastating loss to the Wrestling World and Jesse). I hope Macho Man's family can sustain this loss just as I hope MINE can, because this is certainly the last thing we ever needed.