After my friend Curtis died in a car accident in 1979, I had trouble processing my emotions.
I couldn’t seem to cope with everyday tasks, or eat very much. I was in shock.
Last year, when the 30th anniversary of his death was coming up, I set out on a journey of healing, to clean out whatever vestiges of internal emotional and psychological damage that might be stopping me from living a full life. I trusted that if I thought again about Curtis, I would learn something valuable about myself. And as a writer and artist, I knew that I would express myself in appropriate ways.
I’ve listed below some of the writing which flowed from certain conversations I’ve had. The writing flowed in the form of poetry, monologues, short plays, and then scenes which became longer plays. As the output continues to occur, I believe all the more what I always speak about with my playwrighting clients, and others who are seeking to heal from an emotional wounds:
If you give yourself time and an outlet, the healing will come. I feel so refreshed, knowing that I am facing my fears and my past, and that I can actually process any new information that I uncover from friends and family who knew Curtis.
The first thing I did to honor Curtis’ memory was to track down his parents, with the help of the staff of his old prep school. I then contacted my high school boyfriend, who survived the crash. And I kept writing. I went through what I’ll call a deliberate journey of the soul.
After I appeared on Drs. Gloria and Heidi Horsley’s radio internet program Healing the Grieving Heart, a very clear thought came to me. It was: I just realized that I’ve been in love with a dead man for thirty years. I wrote it down and what flowed out of me in one piece was AND THEN I WENT INSIDE, a one woman play. The great American actress Kathleen Chalfant portrayed the role of Stacy Lee Madison in New York City in November. The audience was spellbound as Stacy told of the loss of her love interest and the subsequent impact on her life.
Here is the opening section of that play:
An Exerpt from AND THEN I WENT INSIDE
© 2009 by Anne Hamilton
STACY:
I just realized that I’ve been in love with a dead man for thirty years.
(Beat)
Well, a dead teenager. Who knows if he was a man yet? Yeah. Thirty long years, in love with a ghost. My high school lover. Did anyone have lovers back then? I guess I did. As close to real love as possible. A big, tall, he-man bear-hugging teenager. Who drank. And smoked. And loved everyone he ever met.
(She takes up a couple of beads from the pile of beads on the left, threads them on a wire, then takes a small item which we can’t see and places it on the right side of the table.)
“What happened?” Well you may ask. Car accident. On a nice June afternoon. Right on the highway near the mall. On the highway — a pothole. It sat, or dipped there, right at the light where the guard rail ended. And when he drove by, BAM, bloop, skip. It hopped, skipped and jumped him right into the path of a tractor trailer.
BAM, skip, jump. He flew from the car. No one wore a seatbelt back then.
BAM, sail, fly. Wind shearing off his ears (not that they were big). Birds looking down in amazement. What is this big, bear-y thing in our airspace? I’ll bet they looked down their yellow bird- beaky noses and said, I disapprove. I’m definitely going to call the city about this one. Bears in the sky. Taking up our airspace. (Beat, and then she looks directly at the audience.) People aren’t supposed to fly.
(End of Excerpt)
In subsequent articles, I will share poems that I wrote after I discovered new information about the crash.
Anne Hamilton is an award-winning Columbia University graduate and the Founder of Hamilton Dramaturgy. To ask Anne for help on developing your own play, screenplay, poetry, fiction or non-fiction, please contact her at hamiltonlit@gmail.com
Tags: grief, hope
