Yesterday was the second anniversary of Peggy's suicide. last year it was about missing her this year was different because it had little to do with her death as much as it was more about the events after. When such devastation happens like 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, West gas plant, Super storm Sandy, Oklahoma tornadoes, or Peggy's death I have seen the best of humanity rush in to help. Money, resources, most importantly time with the victims in abundance. Cash is sent in till coffers over flow.
I am as grateful as I know how to be for all that was done for us when we couldn't do anything for ourselves. Lost in grief, confusion, sadness, and anger I wasn't able to shower much less feed Zoe. people were there constantly or a phone call away. What yesterday was for me was the realization that how much I still need people and the hurt that they weren't there anymore. It is that realization that all that they felt was a mix of emotions and emotional frothy summer camp love.
There is a scene in a classic movie "The Breakfast Club" where people from across the social spectrum really bond through suffering under a common enemy one isolated afternoon. They then ask the question how will we act tomorrow? The movie ends without showing how they do. The hope is this event allows them to break down enough of themselves that they remain true friends. The film end with Don't Forget About Me by Simple Minds.
That's always been my secret prayer, don't forget about me. That I matter to you in some form or shape. That someone in the universe would miss me if I was gone. Well besides ex wives needing child support or bill collectors at least. In my role in my family unit as a child I would classify myself as the forgotten child because I did my best to stay out of sight out of mind out of trouble. I escaped into a fantasy world of books, games, movies, and television. I desperately wanted to be found but when no one came looking I fled deeper into my make believe world. To be honest I don't know if people did look for me because I was so far down the rabbit hole who could really. That's the problem with self defense mechanisms, they work. The walls we put up for protection get to big and turn to prison walls.
Yesterday hurt a lot because it brings me back to that day. I can forgive or at least understand why Peggy died. What confuses me is where were all those people that were there on my worst day ever? I want to respond in gratitude for their love, kindness, and generosity but most of them aren't around anymore. Most just slipped away by being ordinarily busy. Texts don't come, phone calls, aren't returned, get together's have stopped. To get anyone of them to sit down for a cup of coffee would take another death or congressional dictate.
What was so hard to leave drinking and drugs was the fake sense of fellowship. That us vs. them attitude everyone has that they accept you in a instant. Thick as thieves is the saying funny how thick as a prayer circle never really took off. I watch Sons of Anarchy and know that isn't true brotherhood but know its damn better than what I have now. I have such a deep seeded need for community placed in my heart but none of the skills needed to make it blossom. I have worn this fake mask of the Joker while dying inside for far to many years. I finally find the courage to let the sunlight of the spirit on my face and find all that I have been missing.
I do not mean to sound like I am ungrateful or anyway disrespecting any of the people in my life that have stood by me no matter how much I pushed. Its everyone that came out of the woodwork that slunk back into it. I don't need a ton of people in my life so I was cool with people being outside the circle. But if you get in the circle then your in even if you pull horrendous crap we get over it. My heart is really bitter about the people who got close to me in my most vulnerable time to just abandon me so casually. I would rather get into a drag out bare knuckle bar fight with a person to mutually say screw you and walk off. This silent fade kills me. If you will always be there for me, where the heck are you? I don't expect sexual relationships to be anything but crap its the strictly platonic or same sex friendships that blow me away.
As a act of gratitude to combat grief I finally did the thank you cards for the funeral. I had made lists when it all went down for purely socially convictional reasons. But I really wanted to express my thanks now. It was so hard to write, or rather print because my handwriting is atrocious, thank you and not add on where the hell have you been?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin;
If we are mark’d to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call’d the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say “To-morrow is Saint Crispian.”
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say “These wounds I had on Crispian’s day.”
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb’red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
- Shakespeare, Henry V
Am I the only one who has scars, is that it? It sure feels like I have been through many a battle with a hell of a cast of characters.
There is a line in the big book talking about the long road of recovery before the alcoholic. paraphrased the farmer throws open the cellar door looks at the family farm completely destroyed and all he has to say is that he's happy the storm has past. Yes its good to be grateful to be alive but geez there is a crap ton of work rebuilding to be done to form any semblance of a real life again. So I think about residents of down town New York who got a check but really needed help cleaning up the debris so there kids could play on the sidewalk. Elderly people in New Orleans who might of got a new house built but have to stay indoors because all their neighbors moved away. The people of Jersey Shore who don't have relatives come visit because the pier is gone and what is there to do there now. I will always be grateful for moms AA friends for how they came in when dad died for sure for the funeral but how they have since never really left her side supporting her.
I really think Peggy's death was a spur of the moment bad choice. That everything just got to much and just needed to be released. I sure wish she had some people in her life that she could of called more so I wish she had friends that called her even more I wish to hell she had friends that wouldn't buy her crap over the phone and sat face to face with her. The thing I heard most from her absentee friends was if I would of known she was in trouble. The second is if you need any help with Zoe just call.
I weep for Zoe she not only lost her mom but also a grandmother, a aunt, a uncle, a six pack of cousins all of blood but a host of other adopted family that have no clue about her simple because they cant return a letter or a call.
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