Crying Over Spilled Beer

“Don’t cry over spilled milk. It could have been beer.”~ Author Unknown

Last night, I traveled to Waco, Texas because #1- I can and #2- I was invited to attend a show there which headlined the band, P.O.D.

There will be a full blog post about my travels and experiences about that much later.

I wanted to focus on a group of people that I had the unfortunate displeasure to have crossed paths with.

Although as they say, when it becomes a thing of the past and you look upon it then you will just laugh and laugh and laugh.

I ain’t laughing yet….. that much!!!

As I was familiarizing myself with the venue, I had the sorrowful duty to attempt to manage to get myself around as best as I could while dealing with rather THICK carpeting.

I had turned the corner and hadn’t been talking, hadn’t bothered anyone, and I passed up a group of gentlemen.

Suddenly, my arm and chest and all the way down to my hip felt wet and very cold.

These “gentlemen” were a group of friends and were involved in a serious match of horse play when one of them spilled their beer all over me.

Now I realize that they didn’t simply just THROW it on me or DUMP it on me, nevertheless the guy’s glass was empty in a fraction of a second and I was dripping with the contents of that glass.

Suddenly their incessant giggling and immature shenanigans came to a most abrupt end and conclusion. So much so that they pretty much kept to themselves quiet the rest of the night…. even after I had moved.

I looked at my coat sleeve as it dripped of nasty and cheap beer from the forearm to the hand and down the fingers to one side of my lap.

Looking up slowly, I saw three or four faces frozen in shock and in horror. And best of all: fear.

I didn’t say a word. Not even a grunt or a peep. I turned away from them and kept moving on.

The rest of the night, the guilty party continually came up to me after it was all said and done, apologizing, begging for forgiveness, and apologizing some more. I continued to stay quiet. 

Here’s the inside scoop on this story and probably the REAL reason as to why they were so adamant about being sorry and letting me know about how sorry they were:

The photograph of the jacket is called a “BDU” in the military.

I was wearing one. My brother got one for me while he was serving in the Army.

I had my name across it. I had military patches and other insignia up and down the sleeves. It looks legit even though it is not. Because I am not a Colonel, nor enlisted in the United States Army. I do however, like the insignia and symbol of the rank of Colonel.

Eagles, anyone?

These guys convinced themselves without any help of anyone else of the outside world, that a beer had been spilled upon a member of this country’s military veterans.

The next thing I know, they were offering to buy me drinks the rest of the night. They were wanting to take me out to eat. They were willing to purchase expensive band merchandise. They even offered to bring me to the next big show and pay for my ticket. All of this, without my consent or approval.

I honestly believe that these people were fearing some kind of massive retribution on my behalf as a consequence for their immature actions. And they were attempted to mend the wrong with showering me with gifts, to ensure that retribution would not be received.

The sad part is that people are going to believe what they want to believe. It does not matter whether or not you attempt to right their mistakes, they will do and believe what they want. No matter how many times I tried to tell them to just drop it… they insisted. And no matter how many attempts that I gave to explain that I was not in the Army, and that it was just a jacket… they believed what they want.

Am I former military? NO.
Was it okay for them to have done what they did? NO.

So, there’s fault on both sides. And it appears that both sides were stuck with attempts to right the wrong in vain.

Chances are… I’ll never see these guys again. That’s just the way the world works. But I literally had these guys scared to death the entire rest of the night up until the time that I left the venue to return home.

This could be a lesson for people as well.

Of course I could have screamed and cursed and attempted to pick a fight with these guys. I would have been justified in doing so because of what had happened. But I think the best retaliation was to let them stew in their own individual minds about what they were doing and what they did do and what had happened, to punish themselves about it the rest of the night.

Are they thinking about it now-today? I doubt it. But they sure as hell thought about it last night.

Five Years Of Freedom

“For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.”~ Nelson Mandela

Five years. Seems like a lifetime ago already. A moment marked in life that is significant to nobody else in the entire world, but me.

The 30th of September in the year 2008, was the long yet almost simple journey to my personal freedoms from a relationship with a woman whom I had no longer feelings for, and had also feared for my own life. And with good reason.

After surviving in a place with no outlet, no freedoms of my own, no voice, no opinion, and existing as nothing but someone on the arm of a woman who happened to be a few years older than I, eight months of that mental prison and it came down to this day where I left without saying a word, without giving any sort of clue that I was leaving, nothing.

I just up and left.

After being ignored to my feelings, thoughts, and wishes of what was to be “OUR HOME” between my last girlfriend and I, The relationship and all of its connecting parts had breathed its last breath. From that point on, I knew that there was nothing in the world that I could say or do within my own powers to make her change her mind or even consider changing her mind on how she lived her life and/or behaved.

Two separate ships sailing away from each other in the same ocean. One sinking, the other one sailing in circles.

I had proven to my family, myself, and to anyone else in the world that CHANGE is still possible. You just have to want it bad enough to do something about it. And then actually DO it in order to get it.

I had actually cried over the telephone when speaking with my elder brother and the sounds of my tears and frustration and sorrow really struck a nerve with him. Within one month, a plan had been put together by my family to help me escape my dark and lonely existence in a place where I was thousands of miles from anyone who honestly and truly cared about who I was and how I felt.

Even to the point after confessing my sadness to my family where my girlfriend would once come home from work after having a seriously bad day, not wanting to cook and wanting to go out to eat so that we were fed. When it was explained to her that there was no money to go out, she began to unravel from within. As she began cooking preparations with kitchen utensils that belonged to my departed mother, she came after me when I told her one last time that we were NOT going out to eat for that evening, and she had to cook if she wanted to eat. Deflating her efforts to plunge that kitchen knife into my chest cavity and ending up with her sobbing and shouting her words of hatred towards me.

One week before (on the 23rd) the plan was explained to me. And I had to be able to keep things quiet and not let anyone on to anything for seven full days.

My elder brother coming up from the south all the way up into Rhode Island to basically grab me and send me out of the trap of a household, all while the girlfriend had made her daily route to her job. I left in the early morning hours of that day, dropped the key in the mailbox, said farewell to the two cats that she owned and never looked back as my brother and I cruised down the Interstate which lead us to the airport in Providence, Rhode Island.

I had made the decision to return to Texas with the lessons learned in my brain. My sister picking me up at the Austin airport and I lived with her family for six months before I returned back to the same apartment that I had lived in before… to this day, is being said is still a miracle that I would return back to the same unit. But here I am.

Leaving the girlfriend in a confused state of mind, when she realized I had left with no real explanation left behind. Only that I was leaving and that I was finished with the relationship. The lengthy, four paged written “Dear John” letter that was scribbled on a legal pad would be mailed to her from a neutral location so she was unable to track my whereabouts.

All because she swung a knife. (And the confusing tale on my family’s behalf of whether or not her family still had ties to the New England mafia. In which they honestly did not. She just had a relative that was born by the seed of the head of the mafia many moons ago, a great aunt who had been dead for a few years by that point in time. My family still were confused though for whatever reason.)

Starting over with very little of my own possessions and only a few important documents and momentos, beginning at the ground level all over again.

Its been a hard road as I have not recovered in that aspect. But in these five years I have matured, I have learned, and I have gained MORE than what I had BEFORE I entered into that ill-fated relationship. And yet to this day I find life to be more satisfying without the things that I had, compared to having that knife actually plunged into my thorax.

Yes… there are a lot of times where I stop and think about where I may have placed something, wondering why I cannot find it. Only to finally remember that it was not brought with me in the Great Exodus. And I must somehow deal without. I think that for the most part, I honestly cannot complain about material things too much. For the other things that I have gained in my life in the past five years is, as the saying goes, more precious than silver or gold. 

Its not where I thought I would see myself in the year 2013, but it is far better than the ultimate and other option of being six feet under.

I now have friends that surround me with love and TRUE care when I visit Houston. And I also have those who will in silence, support me in whatever I do, which is a great span from California to Canada to Florida and New York and over across to France, Norway, Germany, New Zealand, and Russia. And the one thing that lights up my day about them all is that had I stayed with the girlfriend, these relationships would have never blossomed into anything at all if she was still around. I would not be friends with ANY of those of whom I speak of here. Because that’s the kind of person that she was. SHE had to be the one and only #1 person.

I have been without a romantic relationship since in my personal life. And some how, some way, I continue to breathe every day. I sleep at night and rise in the morning, and nothing becomes frozen over. And yes, it does get lonely and often times I wished I had someone to share my day and my night with. But if that is to happen for me in my life, then it will come at the proper time.

But until then, I can be eternally grateful that I have a family who was loving me enough through the stupid mistakes that I made during that relationship, so much that they still helped me when I called for help. I can be eternally grateful for those that are “new” in my life, and have been so positive and promising for me. And those are the people that will never stray from my life.

People come and people go, but they are the ones that remain. 

So here I am in 2013, a few years older. A few more grey hairs. Lots of time to think. And lots of time to learn how to truly live.

For those of you who ARE in my life (and you know who you are) I LOVE YOU. And I always will.

Five years since I started this new journey, and we’ve still yet to come to the end of the road.

 

 

 

 

 

Need In Anything

“I praise loudly, I blame softly.”~ Catherine the Great

Now that the memorial service for my brother-in-law has come to an end, I will begin the process of mourning and grieving for those that I have lost. Several in the past few weeks. Including keeping the memory of someone that I knew that I heard the news that they had passed away, just a few hours after I returned home from my brother-in-law’s service.

I have received many supportive words from many people. Some that I do not know, and from others who do not know me well at all. But whether or not I know them, or they know me is not the point. The point is that they were strong and kind and caring enough to express their condolences to me over these painful weeks.

Losing someone is never easy. Knowing what to say to someone who is experiencing grief and loss isn’t easy either.

We do not know how to comfort those who mourn a lot of the times. So some come up with the most basic and direct way to express their sympathy by saying, “I’m sorry for your loss.” Another thing that is commonly spoken is “My condolences to you and your family.”

So then, in my grief-stricken state I am reminded of hearing another sentiment that has always made me stop and wonder. And it goes all the way back to the time when I lost my mother.

“If you ever need anything, you let me know.”

I haven’t heard that one as much now as I did when I lost my mother. Back then I was only a child and I didn’t really think about it until later.

I feel that it is an expression that is too vague. Too cryptic.

When I lost my mother, I grieved in my own way, and it took years to do it. So then when I was finally in need of anything or something, I would remember those who had said that phrase to me and would ask them for their help. But to my distress as a young child, I would come to find out that those who had said those words to me, weren’t really helpful or willing to help at all.

At the time I felt like there must have been an expiration date on the term “if you ever need anything”… as if to say, “Let me know if you need anything for the next twelve months. After that, don’t bother.”

And of course that’s not what they were saying. But it felt that way then.

Once I was sent away and rejected, I began to feel bitter. I began to hate those words. And I wondered (and still do today sometimes) if anyone actually who has said that to someone who was mourning, had kept their word and gave that person help in their hour of need.

Again, this hasn’t been said to me frequently during my present time of mourning and grief. One person has actually said to me, “If you ever need to talk to someone, I will be here.”

That expression was more specific! If I needed TO TALK. And it gives the parameters of what they were willing to help with, if I was needing help.

But let’s go back again to what I was saying before. Human nature is imperfect. And people go through grief in different ways.

If we knew exactly what it was that people needed in order to be comforted during their time of loss, we would offer exactly that and nothing more. Because we would know that they do not need anything more. But we simply do not know because of the fact that we all have different needs when we mourn. And that really does include not really knowing what to say to someone. So these common expressions of sympathy are the ones that we use.

I am more appreciative of those who have sent their condolences now, than when I was younger.

And should the time come that I DO need something from someone, then I will go to them. But for now, all the thoughts, love, and prayers have been appreciated beyond any words that I can come up with to show my gratitude to everyone who has shown their condolences to me.

 

Lessons Of Sorrow

I learned a lot today. Some things new, other things were more of a review.

This blog post comes unscripted, unplanned. And I will leave it up to the readers to decide whether or not it is good.

In trying to select an image for this blog post (once I decided that I would write it) I read a phrase. I don’t know if it is a quote from something specific or not.

“I can’t sleep because my pillow is all wet.”

The phrase clearly indicates that the person is crying in the middle of the night. And to be honest, I have been as well tonight. So I sit here in the silence of the dark, writing.

I have been living with a broken heart this evening. My lesson was that the past isn’t something that you can change. No amount of having the will or desire would ever change me into a super hero where I can turn back the hands of time and go back and FIX what would be that exact moment where my heart would begin to unravel.

And yet, there was something else that I would learn. Or at least remember about myself. And that lesson is the fact that I still have the capability to let go of my own hurt. More specifically, letting it go when I know that someone ELSE is hurting. And it is time for me to be that friend that they need because it is their time of sorrow, loss, and pain.

Right now in my life, there are a lot of other people who are hurting. They are lost, confused, sad, and don’t really know if the sun will ever rise again. It is my duty as a friend to be there for them in this stressful hour of need. And I know that I can be there for them and that I will be there for them. It is my duty as I took on the risk. My part of the bargain of maintaining what I have come to know as a friendship filled with love and compassion.

We’ve all been in the situation where we’ve heard about someone’s pain and we wished that we could just take it all away from them. But that magic pill hasn’t been invented as of yet. And until it is, it would just be better if we realize that we have to do the best to our abilities to sit down in silence, shut up, and listen to the cries of help.

One aspect of a friendship that I have learned through my own experiences is that “being there for someone” doesn’t necessarily mean you are there to give advice. “Being there” often means that you are listening to whatever problems your friends are having. Allowing them to say what is on their minds and in their hearts for the sake of them getting it off the chest and eventually work towards the healing process away from the current pain that they are experiencing.

I’ve gone through many times of being called on the telephone and the conversation lasted over an hour. And by the end of it, I’ve only said about a dozen words. Giving that person the opportunity to go through the motions and say what they need to say and having the thought process of what they are thinking outloud has always appeared to give that person some clarity in their confusing and frustrating world.

But no matter what whenever that person disconnected the telephone conversation has always been able to feel like they were starting to get back on their feet again. Because basically, all they needed was that attention for that time, without having the need for feedback or a sounding board.

That’s the kind of person that I am. Plain and simple.

I hate the fact that these people are hurting at the moment. I also hate the fact that there’s really nothing concrete that I can do. Other than listen.

I love my friends. And I am not a person who is shy to say it or admit it. Those who are really close to me know this about me. Because I tell them every chance that I get. Whether in times of rejoicing or in times of sorrow. This blog post just happens to be brought upon by a lot of people that I know who are experiencing sorrow. And should they call upon me again and again, I will remind them.

I have a very large reputation on the Internet for being this way. And so far, there’s never been any permanent damage from it. In fact, it is quite the opposite. When I have sacrificed whatever is going on in my life at that moment for the sake of someone’s heart who is breaking and I have listened? It has always turned out wonderfully in the end. Particularly for those who were previously drowning in sadness.

Again, that’s who I am.

I also believe that when the clouds are over us and we cannot see the silver lining, that we often forget that we are actually blessed with the fact that we have friends. Friends that we can depend on to be there for us in our need. Not so much that, but what is forgotten is the amount of friends that we have, that will support us. Friends that “have our backs”. Yeah sure, we call upon specific people because we know that we can rely on them. But there’s also those in whom we do not call upon. It doesn’t mean that they are not there sitting in our corner. It is something that is just simply forgotten because our minds are so concentrated on the fact that we are hurting.

I have no idea when all of this will end for everyone that I know specifically, who is hurting and is having a difficult time. I cannot tell the future nor read minds. But from what I have experienced personally- I’ve always come to a point where I have hit nothing but the bottom of the barrel, and still some how and in some way managed to reach the top again.

Those that I know who are down right now, will also reach the top. Each and every one of us has that capability.

Nobody said that life was easy. And then again, nobody said that we had to live our life alone.

But I surround those right now who are down, with the love from the bottom of my heart and I will open myself to them if they need me.

If we are able to do that, and not expect anything much in return (if anything at all), I believe that is the true definition of a friendship that has a foundation based on love, trust, and faith.