Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Eu te amo

As we hold hands and laugh on a winter day should I envision myself as a snow flake landing on you, so that I might permeate your skin, your soul, your heart,and be with you always......
Or
Should I envision myself on the other end of a phone call agreeing with you that this long distance will never be shortened and friendship will be painful. Dropping the phone, dropping myself onto the carpet hating that you are so far away, that I am a coward......
Or
Should I envision myself showing up at your door, listening to my inner voice that is telling me you are the missing part of me. I knock and you slowly open the door. Your reaction at seeing me is to jump into my arms and hold me tight. Your touch puts aside any questions I may have had, any second thoughts. Arm and Arm we walk into your house and close the door on the world as we open it to our future......
Or
Should I let the lose of you, of your love, my cowardice winning over my desires, lead me to not caring about life, my apartment, my body, My attitude. Not cared for, not caring......
The morning arrives with a beautiful sunrise. Solitude and Peace greet me. I settle in the drivers seat of my car. My life and job have become nothing more then a dead end boring circus. My love for you has remained and my heart aches with the emptiness. The car started, I pull out of the driveway and onto the empty highway. Towards......

Saturday, August 21, 2010

The Dance

The 1980s were not very good to me. I had yet another back surgery, A Brother died, I was full of self doubt and hatred. I was a kid trapped in an adult body. I wanted the childhood that I felt I missed out on. My best friends in the early to mid 80s were Brian, My younger brother who is almost 5 yrs younger then me, and Richie who is younger still. Our days were filled with music, games, walking in the woods, along the railroad tracks. Going to our neighborhood candy store, riding our motorcycles. Nothing that had anything to do with adulthood. I hid from it for as long as possible.
1987 came and it was very clear that I had some problems. I was starting to talk about death, suicide, Just not dealing with life. I went through some jobs, but one I quit and never told anyone. I pretended I went to work but actually walked home in all kinds of weather and for many miles. From Durham to my house in Middletown. My Mother caught me trying to sneak out of the House in which I hid out in all day. I would just walk a bit, come home and tell everyone I got a ride home. But I was caught and was sent to get help. I ended up on South 1 at MMH in Middletown. Stayed for 3 months, left. Went back in for a month, left. Back in for a month. This was not working. No matter what my parents did to help me I still wanted nothing to do with Adulthood. Finally in early 1988 my Parents were told about a facility in Hartford in which I would live in a dorm style with others who had problems and I would have support with therapists. They said OK and sent me off. Alone, on my own, away from family and the innocence that I had craved. I was so scared.
I wasn't on my own though. A few months after I got there in moved Lynn. She had been with me on two of my stays at South 1 and we were great friends. In fact she told me it was the fact that I was there that she showed up. We once again became the best of friends and even though she was facing her own demons and should never have been in one, as I should not have, we started a relationship. After we both moved out of this facility we ended up moving in with each other. We struggled with money woes, personal woes, family woes, but we held on. Eventually we were married despite all the concerns we heard from almost everyone. What did they know we said. We loved each other and were the missing piece we both had long searched for.
Sadly her demons led her into the Hospital often. For every 6 months that we were together, at least 3 of them were spent with her hospitalized.
I faithfully visited her. At times she was so out of it she had no idea who I was. Others she was so out of it she saw me as someone else and attacked me. I would like to say that my visits were just for her, but I gained something also. A place to be, A reason for each day. She was in and out of Hospitals as her demons seemed to win out. I on the other hand was facing down my demons. I was growing. I started school, made friends outside the world of Lynn's Illness. In time I saw that the more she ended up in the Hospital the more I started to realize that we were not going to work. I loved her so very much, but she had an actual Illness that she would face forever. I had no Illness. I just needed to talk about all the things I carried with me that made me not want to grow up. My surgeries, My Brothers death in which I blamed myself for.
In the process of my growing I met so many wonderful people. School was like I wished High School had been for me. I was popular, I was seen as a great guy, funny. I openly talked about Lynn with a few of the people I grew close to. They all listened and tried to help. One, Julie, I will never forget. We became bosom buddies. We helped each other study and with homework. We hung out all the time. Others in school started to talk about us as a couple. we laughed at that for awhile until one day Julie asked me why not. We got into a huge argument and for awhile did not speak to each other. My answer had been that I would never cheat, that is the worst thing one can do to another. To break that trust and commitment. Her answer was that I was not really married. Lynn was messed up and no matter how hard I tried she would never get better. I should save myself.
I did not gain a lover after this conversation,Julie and I became friends again after a while, but I did gain a new insight. She was right. Lynn would never get better. I loved this woman, I hated the thought of hurting her. I talked to Lynn about couples counseling. She did not see that we had any problems but agreed if that is what I wanted. I thought that if we did couples then I would learn how to live with her Illness, but all it did was confirm the feelings I was fighting. It had to end. The counselors said it was not good for either of us. Not healthy for me, and not productive for her.
I will never forget the day I told Lynn that I was leaving. My heart was breaking for this wonderful person. Once again someone she counted on was letting her down, was hurting her. I will never forgive myself for that. Ever. We tried to remain friends and it worked for awhile. She moved to the building next door and we saw each other weekly. I felt better because now when she ended up in the Hospital I was not under so much pressure as being her husband. I was there for her as much as I would allow myself to be.
In time I ended up meeting someone as an"Adult". I actually had them meet once because I in a way I needed Lynn approval. I wanted to let her know I would always be in her life. Lynn moved out of Hartford as I eventually did. We saw each other at Family get togethers every so often but Jen, by now my new wife, started to resent Lynn being there and on some occurrences I voiced my displeasure also. Looking back I really don't understand why. I guess in front of Jen I wanted no ties to my past, which she really knew little of besides Lynn. Inside though I was pleased. I wanted Lynn to have family.
After 8 years Jen cheated on me (Ironic) and our marriage ended. I still saw Lynn on occasion and we never discussed our past. She was a close family friend. She spent time with my parents at their place i Florida, she spent time with my Nieces and Nephews and Siblings. I was pleased. Even though Lynn and I never talked about our relationship I did get a letter in the mail from her. It was written with the help of her therapist. She opened up about everything. She did not blame me for leaving, which I needed to hear although it still haunted me. She said that she saw how hard I had worked to love her, to save her. All the times I had remained one of the only ones who stood up for her. She told me many hings I never knew, like the night in which I was sleeping and one of her voices told her to stab me, to kill me. She had fought the voices that night though and ended up in the Hospital the next day. I cried so hard. She loved me enough to push her voices aside for a night. She loved me enough not to fight me when I left her. She loved me enough to let me go.
After I had left Lynn and she moved out, I heard a song from Garth Brooks called "The Dance" I sat there and cried for how that song made me feel, how it still makes me feel. Lynn has moved out of our lives now. I wish her well everyday and i would never want what we had to be any other way. We were there for each other as she faced her demons and I struggled to grow up. Sadly I could not take her with me.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

I'll name her Sally

On my vacation recently I found myself at an antique store. This was not your run of the mill antique store, this place dealt more with old lunch boxes, magazines, photos, dolls. I saw things from a "Gunsmoke" lunch box to a "Mork & Mindy" doll set. These things meant something to someone once upon a time. As I walked down one aisle something caught my eye and I stopped and felt a twinge of excitement.

It was a photo of a blond haired girl of about 13 yrs old. It was in a medal oval shaped frame the size of a medium post-it note. On the back it was stamped as having been taken at the 1939 Worlds Fair in New York. No name of the girl, just the picture. As I held it my mind was filled with thoughts on who this little girl was. What was the situation of this picture being taken, and how did it end up here at this store. In my mind I could see this little girl walking with some friends going from exhibit to exhibit. Learning about what people envisioned the future to be for them. I saw this girl grab a friends hand as they ran to the picture booth. Sitting as groups, then one by one. Making faces, being serious, finally just smiling. Watching the frame being wrapped around these pictures they walked out taking turns looking at them.

Leaving for home, they each went their separate ways and placed their pictures somewhere in their homes. The living room, or more likely on the dresser in their bedrooms. But then what? That is where my mind went. 1939 led to 1941 and World War Two started. By then this blond haired girl would be about 15. Did she have fears as the war started? Could life as she knew it actually be in danger? 1941 led to her graduation around 1943. Did she have a sweetheart at this point? Did she sit at home writing letter after letter as he was off fighting for his country? Was she now a wife quickly marrying before he went off to war? The war ended in 1945. Was she a widow at 19 crying over the grave of her husband, perhaps holding his child?

My mind swirled with all of these unanswerable questions. Staring at the photo I wanted to believe that this little girl grew up not having been touched by the war at all. The 1940s became the 1950s. Her family grew, sitting around the Television enjoying post war life. The 50s became the 60s. She would now be a woman in her thirties. Her family growing. How did the 60s treat her? Where was she when JFK, MLK & RFK all were killed. Did she have any sons go off to fight in Vietnam?

The years went on and this little girl grew old and would now be around 84. I could not help but wonder if she was still living somewhere. I wished this little girl a good life and placed the picture down. That night I still could not get her out of my mind. How did that picture end up at that store? As I fell asleep I could see her family gathered around her grave all thanking her for their lives and grieving over their lose. A few of them in time would have to box up her things. Boxes for storage in an attic, boxes for using and keeping for everyday life, and boxes for giving away. The things in this last box over time were scattered to different places and this picture ended up at this store. 71 years after it was taken I happened along, picked it up and was in some way touched by it.

As she walked away from having that picture taken on that long ago day laughing with her friends her story was just beginning. I am sure it was filled with love, heartbreak, sorrow, tenderness, hardship, joy, sadness. Her story is still going. Perhaps right now someone else is holding that picture and wondering who she was. I am sure that their vision of her life differs from mine, but that does not matter. As long as this blond haired little girl is still being thought of her story will continue. I guess that is all anyone can ask for.