Friday, February 12, 2016

Hello It's Me

You ever have those moments when time seems like a blur? Some of 2015 was like that for me—a huge melting pot of seconds, minutes and hours. I’m not trying to make excuses but it was a factor that played into why we haven’t really sat down and talked.

If your body was still around, you would been 97. I never thought you were invincible—just wish you had stuck around a little bit longer. It’s been five years since cancer took your life but your spirit has always been close by, although there’s a period where you seemed far away.

I’m not sure how much of a factor the other one played. You know who I’m talking about. We both knew there was shifting taking place. On my part, I did think it was something temporary that had to play out, like waiting for sunshine to peek through an overcast sky. Or someone struggling to deal with depression—something both you and I know well.

Yet, as you know, it didn’t pan out that way. It spiraled into ugliness. It hurt my heart but it hurt your pride. Don’t blame yourself too much; you and I both saw something. However, it’s like the old saying goes, “You can lead a horse to water …”


Although I’ve tried to keep things pretty silent as to the series of events, others have not been as respectful. Who knows—perhaps it is a form of damage control. Whatever the motive (I’m not sure I buy anymore that this person constantly does things without thinking), it gets harder and harder for me to hold my tongue because out of our close trio, you are the main one who can’t stand when people lie and are disrespectful. Everything in me wants to go head-to-head, toe-to-toe—flushing the bullshit down nugget by nugget until it is flowing where waste needs to go.

Truth be told, I’m drained. It no longer seems worth the energy. That is how it goes when you are dealing with types that always have an answer (whether sensical or stupid) for everything. Funny thing is that I have evidence of all the wrong as well as all the hypocrisy—the defamation in public, then reaching out to the very subject one’s libeling in private. It does bother me but like you, I get to a point where I draw a line in the sand and decide, “This is as far as I’m going with you.”
I know you’re not familiar with Facebook. You probably think it’s ridiculous. Just imagine if your Crown Victoria was in good condition and you can drive around to meet a lot of people and talk to them. Facebook is like that—only the way you talk to each other is called a “status”. In addition, you can make new friends (or for you, more people to visit) if the two of you have enough in common.

Well, back in December, I looked at my friends’ list and really weighed out whether these people were important enough to have connected with me on a personal level. You see, I have my personal Facebook spot … think of it like the house or better yet, your bedroom … then I have my networking Facebook spot—like when you get all dressed up to visit, where people know you but don’t like “know you, know you”.

It didn’t make a lot of sense to me to have people around who just wasn’t really talking to me or expressing interest in getting to know me. So, I decided to do a bit of cleaning. Some people didn’t notice the difference while a few got what you’d call “their bees in a bonnet”. The crazy thing (or maybe not so crazy) is those who were offended did not come to me to express their disdain or aggravation, they went to others who were still close to me. Like, a friend of a friend. Or the sister-in-law best friend’s cousin or some such … off on a tangent to others about a beef with me.

I’m not the type of person that’s going to go and tell someone else not to be friends with someone, especially if the disconnect has nothing to do with that someone else. However, I’m not going to sugarcoat my experiences if I’m asked, “Why aren’t you two cool anymore?” There are a few who have requested to be added back to the fray but I hesitate. I don’t know if they actually miss the camaraderie or if they are just being nosy.

I have the feeling that my health is getting worse. I want to know but don’t want to know. I’m like Grandma in that way—I’m not a fan of doctors or hospitals. In my past run-ins with them, I get chastised for not following up, yet refusing to take into account that there are limits to what insurance will or will not cover. Also, some of these doctors have so many patients, they just want to pump you full of drugs and send you on your way—I’m not a fan of that at all because I don’t like taking a whole ton of medicine.


Yes, the whole Affordable Care Act spiel was good on paper but the care doesn’t register as all that affordable. Plus certain services are jacked up in price just so that insurance has a hard time covering the costs. Since I am paying out of pocket, I can’t get all the bells and whistles. Unfortunately, for a lot of the maintenance and preventive measures that are warranted with my condition, those very “bells and whistles” would come in handy. It is just frustrating; there has to be something better than this—yet if a radical gets elected as the next President, the little good I am getting from this is going to get tossed by the waste side. I’m just going to have to get out of my own way and brace myself for what’s to come. I can’t pretend anymore, especially since I have high blood pressure issues and times when it’s hard for me to write for long periods—my fingers cramp a bit and the bones on top of my hand ache so I have to stop.

If my hands get impacted, I’m not going to be a happy camper. Please don’t think this is blasphemy but writing is my salvation. I am grateful it hasn’t dried up during this particularly challenging episode. Is that how it got for you when you were feeling down or frustrated? There’s this heaviness on my chest, and it’s like the inside of me is cracked. I’m using some makeshift glue. Sometimes, it works; other times, I wake up and find that those once glued parts have broken away. Some I find but others are lost … so each rebuild is a bit shoddier. It probably won’t always be this way yet I’d be lying if I can stick out my chest and say it with certainty.


Writing is the only thing that makes sense. Why this challenge is occurring now doesn’t. This rope of absence around me doesn’t—words were said, actions were promised … all demolished. Yes, right is right but it doesn’t shake away the feelings of failure and rejection that seize me.Thanks for everything. I love you.

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