Boring, Happy, Regular (Life, According to Dirk)

I got an email from my friends Chris and Scott saying our old friend Dirk was sick in the hospital. Not sick like getting better sick. I knew he had had leukemia a few years ago, but I had heard about it like, off in the distance, like it was bad but he got over it, I never heard anything else, I knew he was working again so it kind of went away, like things do, tornados touch down, New Orleans is under water, it's bad but it's better now.

But then no it's not better. In fact, go see Dirk now, they say. He's at the end. He's finishing up. What?

I made a plan to go the next morning, and went to bed that night thinking about Dirk. Every single thing I remembered about Dirk, all the memories that came floating in - they were all these funny, silly, lovely, kind things. You know how you have a fight with a friend, or there's something obnoxious about them, maybe - well there was just none of that. I couldn't conjure up anything bad. Every single Dirk thing was just like Dirk - just that big, grinning face. Of course the most famous Dirk story is how I walked out of my house one morning to go to work when I was 22 and working on some tv show, and it's 6 a.m. and right there next to my car is a beautiful Christmas tree. All decorated, with a huge stuffed teddy bear sitting under it, with a big red bow. Like, on a Tuesday, in Van Nuys, in the 80's. Dirk.

Or how he'd run to our house from his house - like on purpose, because he was a runner, and it was like 3 miles, and he'd show up, and play video games with my brothers for awhile, and then he'd either sack out on the couch or run back home.

Or how he drove my car cross-country for me when I married Will.

Or the bacon and egg casserole he left on my car one morning, still warm, homemade. Or going to see him on the Brady Bunch set and getting to meet Alice. Or New Year's Eve 1989, when we had a group of friends, and we had no kids, and we went out to that restaurant in West Hollywood somewhere, Mitch, Mary, Audrey, Scott, Brian, Piece of Shit, Dirk, Jason, me. Mitch said that night, "this is our decade."

Or Dirk's parties where people jumped off the roof into the pool. Where my brother and Dirk ice skated on the kitchen floor in buttered popcorn.

Dirk started as a DGA Trainee on Alien Nation. He was definitely a dweeb, just a big hearted, sweet guy, who was friendly, funny and worked so many hours he would sometimes sleep in his car since he had to be back at the set so early the next morning. He said he always knew the turnaround was too short when he still had sock rings in his legs from the day before.

Anyway, so back in the present, today I woke up, got my kids to school and then went to go see Dirk. But I had to take him something. What do you take someone who might be dying in a few days? A plant seemed stupid. Food seemed stupid. I stopped at the thrift store because that place is magical and always has just what I need, it's like Aladdin's cave. So I got him a teddy bear with a red bow. And I got the game "Sorry," because, well, I was. Then I looked at the clothes to avoid leaving because I was afraid to go to see him.

Half an hr later, I was past Pasadena, there was the hospital, there was the fountain to you have to pass to get to Unit A. A lady guided me through the white maze to his area. There was a pile of masks and gloves and a gown to put on. I asked the nurse how he was, she said he's sleeping, but to go on in.

Then there's Dirk, in a bare hospital room, asleep like a giant baby. His skin is so white, and he looks like someone with cancer. Your head looks bigger without hair, and his skin was waxy from being unused - not abused the way we drag our bodies around, in and out of clothes and elevators and rushing into cars. It looked like it was resting, taut. I stood there a long time just staring at the Dirk as he is now. Last time I saw him was at a pumpkin patch in Encino, his kids were running around, my kids were running around, we were all sweating, maybe 5 years ago. He was tall and goofy, and had no real chin - just regular old Dirk.

I went in and looked at the pictures taped on the wall, the note from his 9 year old son, the kids' school pictures. Pictures of Dirk the way I remember him, with hair and grinning. The nurse told him I was there to see him, and he opened one eye - the other was covered with a metal eyepatch taped to his forehead. When he woke up it took a few minutes, but then THERE was Dirk.

I sat with him and moved the food tray over, and put my hand on his arm, and he told me I looked exactly the same, and I faltered because wow I could not say the same, but I pulled my mask down a bit even though I had a cold and he told me to he hates the mask, who cares, he says, and in five minutes it was like no time had passed, we plugged in our old friendship, he told me about his cancer, his recovery, his bone marrow transplant that had then caused all these problems, his directing jobs on Nip/Tuck, his trying to get better, and to still work. He said he went to Warner Brothers, ABC Family, to a meeting and got hired to work on Pretty Little Liars as a director, he shook hands with the guy, and then went directly to the hospital where he had an appointment, and the doctor there took his blood count and stared at Dirk and told him he had a platelet count of 5. A normal count is 11. He said how did you even walk in here, you should be dead, why didn't you come in here sooner? Dirk said, shrugging, "I had a meeting!" They admitted him immediately, and Dirk said he didn't know how he didn't die that day. I said, "You shoulda died at the meeting." We both started laughing. I mean, that's a way better story. Congratulations, you have the job, croak.

It was so hot in the hospital room, I took off my big ugly sweater and apologized for dressing so badly, and he said "no, you're Earth Mother," which of course, was all I ever wanted to be. Then he said we could turn on the air and I said shut up Dirk. Come on. And our friendship was back.

Two women he knew from his kids' school came in and interrupted us, and stayed like an hour and finally they left, even though they were nice, and we all told funny Dirk stories, I just wanted to see him, and as soon as they left, he turned to me and said, "You know I'm going to die." So then I started crying. And he said "And you know I've always loved you." I knew. Nobody leaves a Christmas tree by your car unless they're a tiny bit in love. I tried to explain, in a warped way, how I had been a broken person. Couldn't accept just a nice, good guy in my life. Til like, yesterday. My own husband. It's been a long road. I tried to explain that to Dirk. I don't know if I said the right things, I wanted him to know he mattered even if I let him down in the romance department. He was so good, and I didn't know how to let people love me. And really he was in love with my dad, because we all were, being on a Kenny show - it's a close-knit place to be. My dad was the tribal king and I was the tribal king's daughter, which is almost as good. But Dirk said he'd been keeping an eye on me, and making sure Barry was treating me right. He thought the age difference was gonna be a problem, and who was this guy, and was he taking care of me. He said, "then I saw he was. He gave you the little farm you wanted. He gave you the kids you wanted, and he raised them with you, and he did good work and he cared about the right things, and he is a really good guy. You got what you wanted. That's what I wanted for you. That made me happy." He was happy. Shut up, Dirk, I said. Because I could feel it all building up, sticking in my throat.

Then his ex wife came in and then some doctors came in, like a six pack of doctors, and everything did not look as fun as it was before, and I told him I'd see him tomorrow, or Friday. And I walked out and peeled off my stuff and didn't know where to put it, you throw the paper away, but where do you put the gown? And then Chris called and I'm walking down the halls all lost, and then I'm crying because he said you know I'm gonna die, and he's a baby, he's supposed to just be Dirk and not this guy on a bed looking like that.

And I thought what are we, Dirk was basically just a head, just one eye that was looking at me, he didn't move any part of his body, but when we talked there he was, he was so big - all his big laughter, and his caring about whether I was cold, and whether I was happy, and talking about the time he fell down a hill with Shaq O'Neal on top of him, crushed by large black man on set, and all I had was his eye and his laugh and all Dirk gave me was his silent love. All this time. Every action he took, in my life, was a kind and true act. How is that not art? This love this guy can give, it must be being Michigan raised, it's so cold there, I don't know, but he's just a regular guy with this pure ability to love. You take it for granted, until you know, someone tells you these pills will help you last another week, maybe two, and then you look back and damn, I hope I can look back and see as many wonderful things as Dirk does. The way he loves, that's a pretty decent, holy track record. And he's just a regular guy, with a vulnerable streak. One of the ladies that was in there said she lived alone, and she lived down the street from Dirk, and when she'd have a repairman or someone coming to her house, she'd have Dirk come over and act like her husband so she wouldn't look alone. And Dirk laughed and said he'd always blow the cover. He said he took a folding chair and sat in the driveway and tried to look all serious, and smoke a cigarette while the guy came to give a paint estimate or something, and he said it was ridiculous cause he couldn't smoke and looked stupid and mashed the cigarette all up and started talking to the guy, making friends and blowing the whole cover because he was just so bad at being anything else.

Before I left I asked him if he felt like he did what he wanted to do, if he was worried about anything, his kids... He said his kids were going to be fine. He got to work and enjoy what he did. He had a blast, he said, directing. So much fun. 10 hr days. Everyone happy.

I hope inside Dirk he isn't protecting us all, as is his character. I hope inside he's able to feel safe, facing his life running out right in front of him, the thing none of us have had to face yet. I don't know what we are, if we're all eventually an eyeball in a body that used to run around, arms that used to hug, feet that felt oceans, hearts that raced on Space Mountain, watching our kids be born those few momentary days. All I know is, I can feel everything, and Dirk seems to be saying, without moving any part of his body, just with his voice, and his smile, he's saying it is what it is. It's okay. Be gracious. Be grateful. For every second that is boring, happy, regular.

I went home to my full house, kids talking about homework while their friends ate all the snacks in my house, and then we went to see my neighbor's newborn goats, and then I took the kids to Panda because I couldn't cook and I sat there at the high up table and ate the food with my three healthy, glorious, regular kids, and there's all that noise swirling around me that I know is grief but it just seems like terror and longing and love, and I know that that is what love is, and according to Dirk, that is what life is.