Cecily Strong - This Will All Be Over Soon

Cecily Strong has written us a permission slip to process our losses, slowly and fully.

Chanel Miller, National Book Critics Circle Award-winning author of Know My Name

This Will All Be Over Soon

A Memoir

Cecily Strong

Simon & Schuster

1230 Avenue of the Americas

New York, NY 10020

www.SimonandSchuster.com

Copyright 2021 by Cecily Strong

Good on the Other Side by Jim and Sam (music and lyrics by Samantha Yonack and Jim Hanft, copyright 2021)

Do as It May copyright by Owen Strong, Frank DeSalvo, and Patrick McKelvy; used by permission of the owners

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address Simon & Schuster Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

First Simon & Schuster hardcover edition August 2021

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Interior design by Carly Loman

Jacket design by Ryan Raphael

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Strong, Cecily, 1984- author.

Title: This will all be over soon : a memoir / Cecily Strong.

Description: First Simon & Schuster hardcover edition. | New York : Simon & Schuster, 2021.

Identifiers: LCCN 2021020269 (print) | LCCN 2021020270 (ebook) | ISBN 9781982168315 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781982168353 (paperback) | ISBN 9781982168391 (ebook)

Subjects: LCSH: Strong, Cecily, 1984- | Strong, Cecily, 1984---Mental health. | Strong, Cecily, 1984---Family. | Actresses--United States--Biography. | Women comedians--United States--Biography. | Depression in women. | Grief. | COVID-19 Pandemic, 2020

Classification: LCC PN2287.S7876 A3 2021 (print) | LCC PN2287.S7876 (ebook) | DDC 818/.603 [B]--dcundefined

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021020269

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021020270

ISBN 978-1-9821-6831-5

ISBN 978-1-9821-6839-1 (ebook)

For Owen and Leda

my two favorite string beans who remind me to listen for the birdsong and look for the daffodils.

I dont know how to tell this story.

I dont quite know what the story is.

Because I dont know when it starts. Or how it ends.

Maybe the story started with the awful day in January when I got the call I had imagined getting for almost two years but believed and hoped Id never get.

Owen has been given hours. His tumor didnt shrink enough where they could start the new treatment Monday. They will make sure hes in no pain, and hes surrounded by Ed and Laurel and Leda and his girlfriend, Stacia, and Sasha, his best friend since childhood. Soon he will go into a coma and then he will pass away.

I kept saying No, no, no, no, no, no.

I dont know how long I sat frozen on my bed making these guttural wailing sounds. At some point I picked up my phone. I was in California. I was supposed to fly to Philadelphia the next day for a wedding. Owen was supposed to beat brain cancer.

That night, I took moments to glance at the clock on my phone, wondering, where in time and space was Owen? What part of his journey was he on at this particular moment? I suppose I have my own magical thinking that began in earnest this night, that Owen would somehow beat this, too. I didnt know how. But if anyone could figure out how to beat time and space, it would be the smartest and most wonderful and bravest human I knew.

My little cousin Owen.

MAYBE THE STORY is a different story, and it starts at a Christmas party this past December with my friend Kevin. Im a bit down, but we are having fun. At the very end of the night, Ive had too many and my new agent comes over. I dont know what we even talk about, but he insists, Just come meet the guy over there with the mustache.

The guy over there with the mustache is handsome. I almost say yes. But then I say no. Im thirty-five. Im very used to being single. The majority of my male friends are gay. The two men Im with at the table are gay. I think its sad that everyone wants to set me up, like its sad to look at me or something. Im doing great!

Okay, but I do like to smooch, and its Christmas, and I feel cute in my outfit, so I talk to the man with the mustache. Hes very cute. I have social anxiety, and Im drunk and tired, so I have no idea what we talk about. He comes home with me. The next morning Im a little more shy. He is less shy.

Can I give you my number? he asks.

I hand him the pink-flamingo pen my psychiatrist gave me that week. I find an old receipt, and he writes Jack and his phone number on the back. Now I have to text him first in order for him to have my number. I text him right after he leaves. I like him. Our timing isnt great. We both live in New York, but Im about to go to California for a month. Hes going to Cuba for two weeks. They dont have great internet.

MAYBE THE STORY starts March 2018. My dad has started a new thing I love, where he sends me a text almost immediately after each SNL show: a little summary that is, of course, always complimentary of his girlie. This Saturday he doesnt text me. Thats odd, but maybe hes just asleep.

The next morning he texts and says to call him. His tone immediately scares me: I have some bad news about Owen.

Of all people, this is not who I expect. Owen is twenty-eight years old and in great shape, and what could be wrong with Owen?

He was having migraines, and he took himself into the ER. He got an MRI, and they found a tumor.

We cried together on the phone. Brain cancer is a death sentence, right?

I went to see my cousins, Owen and Leda, at my uncle Ed and aunt Laurels apartment. I had no idea what to expect. Whats it like after you find out you have brain cancer? Im nervous on the way there. Owens had surgery to remove the tumor. Will he be bald? Will he look sick? I am holding back tears in the elevator.

I get to the door and Owen opens it, his normal towering, skinny, string-bean frame greeting me, arms wide open for a hug.

Hey, cuz.

I immediately feel okay. Hes smiling. I hug Ed next, who is less confident than Owen. Then Laurel, who is always Aunt Laureldetermined and on some task or another. She seems busy. This is the first time I see it as an armor. Shes going to make sure that we have snacks on the table and that everybody has water. She keeps the most beautiful home and always hasits a magical skill to someone like me. My idea of cleaning a house is calling the junk removal people and shrugging like, Have at it. Whenever I see someone subscribes to Martha Stewart Living I immediately know they come from a different monkey than I do.

Owen flops on a chair. Laurel is deaf in one ear, so hes always been used to talking loudly. Im not sure what to talk about, but Owen leads the way. Soon Im laughing. I love this kid so much: You know how everybody goes online and goes on WebMD and panics and convinces themselves they have brain cancer? Well Im the one who actually had brain cancer.