Still Here

I've always been good at being told what to do inside of the workplace or the classroom. Outside of that, not so much. I don't have any desire to be a leader, at least not at this point in my life.  I do like the idea of "being the change."  I just bought a bent teaspoon made into a keychain inscribed with exactly that; it's supposed to look vintage, which worked for me, because I would consider my self vintage.

There have been a lot of not nice and not comfortable things that have happened to me this past week. I am only really beginning my journey on the other side of a friendship that was taken back; retracted, rescinded, rejected. We had been friends for almost a decade. It came on rather suddenly but I have to say, it really wasn't surprising to either of us. It didn't make the sting, any less.

We met at the wedding of a mutual friend, some years ago. He was dating the Groom's Brother, and I was attending with my family; the best friend of my Husband, was the Groom's Father. To make it more complicated, my youngest Daughter was dating the Groom's "other" Brother. Some things that stick in my head from that day...chit chatting, Jesse's meltdown in the (girls) bathroom, with his Mother, (most of the night), dancing, my friend telling me he would keep an eye on my Daughter that night, as she went home with the "other" Brother.

The next day, we met for breakfast, and my new friend-to-be, paid for all of us. As time went on and he continued to date Jesse, my youngest still dating the "other" Brother, the four of them came to my house one night for dinner and a bonfire. This is the first time I had ever had a Gay man in my house;, letalone two. The first time I had ever seen Gay men embrace. The first time I had ever seen Gay men kiss. They stole my heart.

I recently came to find that my friend had struck up a relationship with me because he thought I was close with Jesse; I befriended him because I was fascinated by him. He was a blogger. I fell in love with his is writing and his life experience. We were both dealing with elder parents and both had Brother's with drug addictions.  It was not until many years later, while I was in therapy after experiencing an Empathic Situational Depression, did I realize, the friend that I had come to practically worship, had his own serious mental health issues.

He and I have gone through a million ups and downs over the years. I have always tried to see our similarities, but he has always seen our differences. Me being a Christian, family oriented, and a moderate Republican. He being an Atheist, loner, and staunch Democrat. He said our similarities affected me in a positive way, and our differences affected him in a negative way. He was right. He was always right, but I just refused to give up.

He said he was compromising who and what he stood for and intimated that we are in a social climate right now that will now allow us to see beyond our differences, or maintain a friendship.  Apparently it's my cognitive dissonance. I had never heard of that before, but maybe he's right.

He helped me find myself after being mired down in 25 years of codependency. I spoke at his Father's funeral. He helped me find my courage, and told me to never apologize for what I write. I met with his doctor who told me to call in his family, as he lay dying. I called in his friends.

I feel at any given moment my heart is breaking into a million pieces and just as quickly, I am fine, floating in a sea of calm.

In a week where I had to watch him walk past me with some of his oldest and dearest friends, where I sustained the worst foot and ankle sprain of my life, and the Church that I have known and loved for almost 25 years is in shambles, I somehow and still here...by the grace of my God, who I am trusting to see me through.

 I am guessing going forward, the Universe, his politics, and his "other" friends, will see him through.

Ante Meridiem

I wish I could have stayed in that place of sweet slumbering twilight last night. The place where you write your best work, figure out the meaning of life, and all of the answers just come. You feel satisfied and accomplished; but the daybreak comes and it all disappears, slowly, like the morning mist gives way to the sun.

I saw you there, that day. One, two, three, four...into the woods.  Wanting to shout out his name because it was my place to be there, it was supposed to be me. I guess now I see how ridiculous I looked, all of those days.

What has become of us? No more kindness, compassion, mercy or grace. It's reserved only for those not selectively persecuted. In a class all of my own. I rejoiced for a time.

I live. I eat. I tend my sheep. I sleep.

Chasing 10

Roger Jennings, Jr., 3rdnlong.wordpress.com, passed away on February 7th, 2017.  His Sister Jennifer has written Roger's story on his blog, and Roger's partner of 16 years, Antonio, has written beautiful tributes. Roger is lovingly referred to as "George,"  on the blog.

I haven't communicated with Roger for sometime, because I stopped writing my blog. We were friends on Facebook so I managed to stay connected to him. Not long ago I decided to find out what Roger had been up to, when I saw the sad new of his passing. I came to find out through reading recent posts his blog that he had been very sick with a very serious heart condition.

Roger and I never personally talked or met. I gleaned what I could about him from his posts, and he mine. I always knew that Roger had a very big heart. He was loving, considerate, and kind. I had no idea of his suffering.

Even though my own blog was very plain and unexciting, Roger always made it a point to make me feel like my words were important. He commented on almost every post. Roger would get an email alert when I had written something. I remember that one time he apologized to me saying, he couldn't believe he had missed my post; meanwhile I was only writing every month or so. 

I felt the need to dedicate my first new post to Roger. My heart is suffering right now too, but in a different way than Roger's. We never know who we are going to meet along the way, but I'm glad I had the privilege of knowing him for a time. I miss his encouragement right now.

I think if Roger got an email  that I made this post, he would tell me to be true to myself, and not to worry, as well as give me some sage advice that I wouldn't completely understand; that however, was part of his charm. 

Thank you Roger. I think you were important, too.  Sleep well, my friend.