Awkward silence breaker ... cuteasabug kid, Like the top-knot
The following is a copy of a letter I wrote to a friend the day after I told my friends of 15 + years of my mothers' condition. There are a few intimate references, but I will leave them in because I don't feel like changing anything as it took me two days to pen this much out ....
Dear Liz,
Two of the proudest moments in my life both came from my parents.
The first was with my father after I came home from Woodstock 94. This was the first time I had ever taken some kind of extensive trip on my own without the whole adult supervision thing. Gone for 4 days with the new girlfriend to this big thing he never would have understood, but was well aware that I had to go.
When I came home, there was no one here, and I had no keys to get in. So I went around back and sat on the deck unwinding. I splayed out all my mud covered gear and hosed myself down as best I could.
Dad was the first home. He came out back and saw the carnage I'd laid out and asked me how it was. I told him it was the most unbelievable experience I have ever seen, and that was no exaggeration! I told him that the Allman Brothers were one of the best live shows of the weekend. You see, they had played at Riverside park that Saturday night, and I got to see them Sunday morning up in New York. Dave and I were originally going to take him to the Riverside show, but this came up for me and well, the rest is history.
He said he was very glad I was able to go and that he was proud of me for both going and coming back in one piece. Then he shook my hand. That was the first time I had really shook his hand. It was one of those strong, firm man shakes that just ... exemplifies your manhood.
It's one of those father\son, man-to-man things I think, but for whatever it was, to have him look at me in that light for the first time in my eyes, it marked me for rest of my days.
The second moment was with Ma. Not quite as elaborate, but meaningful nevertheless.
This was about two or three years after Dad died, I was playing a game on the PC and Ma was on the phone with one of my cousins. They were just chatting away about whatever and I overheard Ma make a reference to me. I perked my ear up and heard her say "well I can't really refer to him as the baby anymore, he is a man now."
That blew me away.
I never thought of myself even in the most remote of circumstances in that light. It's one of those self comparison things. I didn't have what I thought were the pre-requisite abilities or attributes in order to fulfill that title.
Strange but true. I still think about that sometimes.
One thing I never really talked about was the fact that it took me about 7 years to come to terms with my fathers' passing. It was just one of those things that was always on the back of my mind. The fact that I never had the chance to say good bye. That weekend he had gone up to New York, and Dave and I had gone to East Hartford for the second roller Hockey tournament. It was just one of those things, I told him the Thursday he left to have fun and he wished us luck in the tourney. That was it. But what were we to expect? "See you Sunday" was about all I would expect.
We were so accustomed to seeing him off for a day or two with work or whatever, it just never occurred to any of us that this could have been the last trip.
I never got over that. It was just something I carried around and never mentioned. It's a pig-headed self survival trick about not wanting anyone to worry I don't know, it's destructive. I know a lot of what I buried spilled out occasionally, mostly in the form of angered tirades. I had no where else to go with the hurt so it just came out like blind firing a shotgun.
It was through recalling the time in and around that whole month and a half that eventually pulled me away from the guilt. The guilt by the way equaled in Tom. I talked to him that Sunday with a promise to call back but never got a chance to.
Incidentally, to this day, I still feel that Tom is my "softest spot". I still talk to him from time to time. I don't know, it's a kind of therapy ... I think I need a Scruncher.
So anyway, recalling the time.
I remembered that for whatever reason, I was going through the worst bout of self imposed depression that I ever dealt with. There was such an incredible sense of hopelessness in my mind and possibly my life. I stopped by your house on the way home from work the Friday before the tournament and tried to put a finger on what was up with me. I couldn't come up with any kind of substantial reason for my mood but there was nothing. Part loneliness, (Seanna and I had parted ways a few months earlier for the first of many times) , part self loathing, and a whole lot of "nothing". ... I'm sure you have had to deal with whatever that "nothing" is. ..
(Oh, by the way, that was the last time I had ever visited your window)
As I was going home, on my street, was a delivery type truck that was not there earlier. It was strange because this was now about 1 o'clock in the morning. All I was thinking about was this gloom and doom whatever. On the side of the truck was the phrase "You Must Be Born Again."
I genuinely laughed for the first time in weeks. But is was more of an ironic, sad laugh that could not help but to come out.
The tournament was horrible. I was still down on myself the whole day and we all played terrible. We just packed up and headed home. Waking up Sunday morning to a phone call while severely hungover and sun burned was not the easiest thing in the world to cope with.
But I understood at "the moment of impact" that there were a far greater number of concerns in the world then my own state of loneliness and depression. Whatever I had, I brought it on myself, this was something else entirely. You being the charter a member of our growing little club, know what I mean.
So seven years removed without any solid answers to ease my nerve, the guilt, the missing piece or whatever, it just passed. I was finally able to accept what I always knew from the years of watching the medications and doctor visits, was the inevitable.
I really don't know what it was but it just stopped. A lot of it had a lot to do with my biggest change in lifestyle. Getting off night crew, ending the two-year breakup charade with Seanna, coming out of a kind of shell that I'd built over myself for a very long time. I just moved on with things. Over the last three and a half years I have not really had any kind of overwhelming weight on my shoulders. I don't really obsess anymore, and that I believe was the beginning of a downfall. Things I would think about on a day to day basis, death, love, loneliness, inevitable departures, wants, desires, jealousy all seemed to just dissipate. (I am certain that Seanna had a lot to do with my state of mind, but it was getting over my father that put me on the very road that broke my soul away from her. .. another story altogether, but the quick version was me, out there on my own at a Renaissance Fare in Boston thinking "Wow, she would love this! But fuck it, she's not here and you are!" And it was that mantra that got me back on my feet. ... And eventually led me to Becca .. Whew, that was fun, God I loved her but that was a fire that was way too hot. Haven't seen her in a bit, think I miss her. It was an awesome feeling to be "in love" again, but I think we challenged one another too much, she couldn't keep up with my (our ;} ) maddness, I couldn't keep up with hers.
The thing about Dad was that after the fact, I learned that all those little things that I took so to heart were not even as remotely serious as I was taking them. I was able to escape the shyness; which believe me I did have .. it was actually more of a lack of confidence that was doing the damage more then anything, but regardless of whatever it was it just stopped having that grip on me. I was actually able to move forward as it were with the rest of my life. The little things like work stuff, different interactions and reactions with people I barely knew or even cared about all that much.
I think with Dad I lost the worry factor that was always prevalent. It was like (dare I use this word?) a cancer in my blood. It had all these outputs to other self bashing beliefs. If I could never live up to the image I saw him as, I could never be anything. His death took away the opportunity to prove myself as "a man". Even though I was never once asked or even required to do anything like that.
I think somehow I was able to finally accept the unexpected yet inevitable. And at the same time accept myself for whatever I am.
So in all this, I have learned to appreciate the things I have and what has been granted to me in my life instead of wallowing in regrets of losses or things I've never had. I suppose it is better to have loved and lost as the saying goes.
Love always, John
P.S. A semi relevant final joke .. The only reason the grass is greener on the other side is because they use a higher quantity of bullshit to fertilize.
.. oh on the opposite end and speaking of bullshit .. "You can catch more flies with honey then vinegar, but bullshit works just as well."
Dear Liz,
Two of the proudest moments in my life both came from my parents.
The first was with my father after I came home from Woodstock 94. This was the first time I had ever taken some kind of extensive trip on my own without the whole adult supervision thing. Gone for 4 days with the new girlfriend to this big thing he never would have understood, but was well aware that I had to go.
When I came home, there was no one here, and I had no keys to get in. So I went around back and sat on the deck unwinding. I splayed out all my mud covered gear and hosed myself down as best I could.
Dad was the first home. He came out back and saw the carnage I'd laid out and asked me how it was. I told him it was the most unbelievable experience I have ever seen, and that was no exaggeration! I told him that the Allman Brothers were one of the best live shows of the weekend. You see, they had played at Riverside park that Saturday night, and I got to see them Sunday morning up in New York. Dave and I were originally going to take him to the Riverside show, but this came up for me and well, the rest is history.
He said he was very glad I was able to go and that he was proud of me for both going and coming back in one piece. Then he shook my hand. That was the first time I had really shook his hand. It was one of those strong, firm man shakes that just ... exemplifies your manhood.
It's one of those father\son, man-to-man things I think, but for whatever it was, to have him look at me in that light for the first time in my eyes, it marked me for rest of my days.
The second moment was with Ma. Not quite as elaborate, but meaningful nevertheless.
This was about two or three years after Dad died, I was playing a game on the PC and Ma was on the phone with one of my cousins. They were just chatting away about whatever and I overheard Ma make a reference to me. I perked my ear up and heard her say "well I can't really refer to him as the baby anymore, he is a man now."
That blew me away.
I never thought of myself even in the most remote of circumstances in that light. It's one of those self comparison things. I didn't have what I thought were the pre-requisite abilities or attributes in order to fulfill that title.
Strange but true. I still think about that sometimes.
One thing I never really talked about was the fact that it took me about 7 years to come to terms with my fathers' passing. It was just one of those things that was always on the back of my mind. The fact that I never had the chance to say good bye. That weekend he had gone up to New York, and Dave and I had gone to East Hartford for the second roller Hockey tournament. It was just one of those things, I told him the Thursday he left to have fun and he wished us luck in the tourney. That was it. But what were we to expect? "See you Sunday" was about all I would expect.
We were so accustomed to seeing him off for a day or two with work or whatever, it just never occurred to any of us that this could have been the last trip.
I never got over that. It was just something I carried around and never mentioned. It's a pig-headed self survival trick about not wanting anyone to worry I don't know, it's destructive. I know a lot of what I buried spilled out occasionally, mostly in the form of angered tirades. I had no where else to go with the hurt so it just came out like blind firing a shotgun.
It was through recalling the time in and around that whole month and a half that eventually pulled me away from the guilt. The guilt by the way equaled in Tom. I talked to him that Sunday with a promise to call back but never got a chance to.
Incidentally, to this day, I still feel that Tom is my "softest spot". I still talk to him from time to time. I don't know, it's a kind of therapy ... I think I need a Scruncher.
So anyway, recalling the time.
I remembered that for whatever reason, I was going through the worst bout of self imposed depression that I ever dealt with. There was such an incredible sense of hopelessness in my mind and possibly my life. I stopped by your house on the way home from work the Friday before the tournament and tried to put a finger on what was up with me. I couldn't come up with any kind of substantial reason for my mood but there was nothing. Part loneliness, (Seanna and I had parted ways a few months earlier for the first of many times) , part self loathing, and a whole lot of "nothing". ... I'm sure you have had to deal with whatever that "nothing" is. ..
(Oh, by the way, that was the last time I had ever visited your window)
As I was going home, on my street, was a delivery type truck that was not there earlier. It was strange because this was now about 1 o'clock in the morning. All I was thinking about was this gloom and doom whatever. On the side of the truck was the phrase "You Must Be Born Again."
I genuinely laughed for the first time in weeks. But is was more of an ironic, sad laugh that could not help but to come out.
The tournament was horrible. I was still down on myself the whole day and we all played terrible. We just packed up and headed home. Waking up Sunday morning to a phone call while severely hungover and sun burned was not the easiest thing in the world to cope with.
But I understood at "the moment of impact" that there were a far greater number of concerns in the world then my own state of loneliness and depression. Whatever I had, I brought it on myself, this was something else entirely. You being the charter a member of our growing little club, know what I mean.
So seven years removed without any solid answers to ease my nerve, the guilt, the missing piece or whatever, it just passed. I was finally able to accept what I always knew from the years of watching the medications and doctor visits, was the inevitable.
I really don't know what it was but it just stopped. A lot of it had a lot to do with my biggest change in lifestyle. Getting off night crew, ending the two-year breakup charade with Seanna, coming out of a kind of shell that I'd built over myself for a very long time. I just moved on with things. Over the last three and a half years I have not really had any kind of overwhelming weight on my shoulders. I don't really obsess anymore, and that I believe was the beginning of a downfall. Things I would think about on a day to day basis, death, love, loneliness, inevitable departures, wants, desires, jealousy all seemed to just dissipate. (I am certain that Seanna had a lot to do with my state of mind, but it was getting over my father that put me on the very road that broke my soul away from her. .. another story altogether, but the quick version was me, out there on my own at a Renaissance Fare in Boston thinking "Wow, she would love this! But fuck it, she's not here and you are!" And it was that mantra that got me back on my feet. ... And eventually led me to Becca .. Whew, that was fun, God I loved her but that was a fire that was way too hot. Haven't seen her in a bit, think I miss her. It was an awesome feeling to be "in love" again, but I think we challenged one another too much, she couldn't keep up with my (our ;} ) maddness, I couldn't keep up with hers.
The thing about Dad was that after the fact, I learned that all those little things that I took so to heart were not even as remotely serious as I was taking them. I was able to escape the shyness; which believe me I did have .. it was actually more of a lack of confidence that was doing the damage more then anything, but regardless of whatever it was it just stopped having that grip on me. I was actually able to move forward as it were with the rest of my life. The little things like work stuff, different interactions and reactions with people I barely knew or even cared about all that much.
I think with Dad I lost the worry factor that was always prevalent. It was like (dare I use this word?) a cancer in my blood. It had all these outputs to other self bashing beliefs. If I could never live up to the image I saw him as, I could never be anything. His death took away the opportunity to prove myself as "a man". Even though I was never once asked or even required to do anything like that.
I think somehow I was able to finally accept the unexpected yet inevitable. And at the same time accept myself for whatever I am.
So in all this, I have learned to appreciate the things I have and what has been granted to me in my life instead of wallowing in regrets of losses or things I've never had. I suppose it is better to have loved and lost as the saying goes.
Love always, John
P.S. A semi relevant final joke .. The only reason the grass is greener on the other side is because they use a higher quantity of bullshit to fertilize.
.. oh on the opposite end and speaking of bullshit .. "You can catch more flies with honey then vinegar, but bullshit works just as well."