it's been a long fucking week. I just keep flashing back to yesterday when my grandpa said my name for the first time since his stroke, and he was able to say his name too…and then he started bawling. It's so ridiculously hard to not cry every freakin day goddamn it, it's fucked up. And we're all with the bright faces and big smiles, but it's like he's was so unhealthy besides this stroke that he had very lil time left regardless. So to see him in constant pain and suffering is complete bullshit. It is certain that family prescence helps him a lot, the support and love is important, but very hard. Especially when i want to be there with him and feel guilty that i'm doing something else. ah well.
11 July 2004 @ 01:15 am My Life
Did the family thing which was crazy. From 9am-3pm it was my mom, my brother, and my grandparents all at the convalescent home my grandpa is at. My mom was in town for the women's convention with the pentecostal/fundamentalist church I grew up with. My brother came and got me at like 930ish and we went over to the home to spend quality time, which consisted of trying to do all the things the weekday staff does when the crazy wacked out weekend staff comes on duty, ready to take lunch immediately. The place is cool during the week but on the weekend it goes to hell with naked old people crawling on all fours and yelling, well yelping, for help rather. It's friggin ridic.
The weekend speech therapist is weird and bitchy, she kept on yelling in my gramps ear to do various things as he attempted to feed himself. My gram was like, "Dear he can hear you just fine". She was like "Oh it's out of habit, I guess to raise my voice a little bit." to which my grandmother shakes her head sternly, "he has excellent hearing". I mean he's trying to eat lunch and she's saying “wipe your mouth” over and over again. And I'm like “Yo we all know that if he wipes his face right now he's gonna have to do it again, so jeez…let the dude eat.” It was so funny, my grandpa used the one hand he’s got to move his plate away from her and shuffled the working half of his body to block her, it was great. He's got little function left, but he didn't really wanna fuck with her. After she left, I told my grandmother the therapist was a lil wack, my gramps lifted his head, smirked, and waved his hands like “Whatever.” Unfortunately the pain is bit much for him, every 4 hours or so they give him pain pills but as they try and get him to walk he's like Gah, argh. For the love of all things holy, why the fuck is this shit going down like this! What's really getting weird is the attempt for us to gloss over his deteriorating state. That's the greatest part. Ok people he's got anemia, diabetes, emphysema, glaucoma, heart disease, a pacemaker, no working kidneys and he just had a stroke. But people keep saying that he's gonna work through it and regain his strength/ability. What happens to quality of life I ask myself? So from there I went str8 to Compton for my cousin's birthday party. I stopped kicking it with my cousins awhile ago when I got gang-raped by some would be boyfriends during a family camping trip. My cousins came up from LA hunting for the guys, with only me to call them off the psychopaths at my Jr. High, and that was the last I seen of them. Since my brothers been down in LA he's been hanging with them a lot more so I’ve been going over to their place to chill. It's cool, but every other block people point out, “oh cousin so and so got shot there”. “Walked home and died on the front lawn”. Fucked up. There was a family friend over who's dad and friend had both gotten killed within the last two weeks, it was some shit. I also went over to my cousin Lil Man's apt or hideout. My cousin Lil Man was and is still my favorite cousin, because he's flat out fucking crazy and brilliant all at the same time. Where he stays there were a million kids running around in the parking lot, a urban jungle gym so to speak. One of the kids in the apt wanted to go out and they were like, “Nah dude u got to be 4 to play outside”. Cute ass kids there tho, I saw like 3 kids that could have been kid models decked out with koolaid smiles and baby jordans, it was funny as hell. So I kicked it with Lil Man and hopefully he's gonna come over to my place soon so we can collaborate on some film ideas he's been having. One of them had the tagline: "Two homies just don't want to be broke no mo". He tends to be a tightly wound violent type prone to shooting up shit if someone pisses him off, but he's my cousin so I don't have to worry about that so much. Sometimes I like that I got folks like that if I ever needed them. But then it makes me laugh. My brother and i had a good time overall tho and it was nice to do it with him, chilling, hanging out with the family and shit. When we rolled up to Lil Man's styling in my 1991 Geo Metro and all, he said "This is a long way from Cal State LA (my brother’s university)" to which I replied, "This is a hella long way from UCLA and Westwood". Lil Man told me, "Oh, no this isn't even on the map coming from UCLA" and he's so right. I’ve seen UCLA students get freaked out going to palms or inglewood (anywhere south of Venice), let alone Compton or south of it, where looking at people the wrong way will get you shot. But I'm finding you can operate in any sort of space as long as you keep a smile on your face.
July 2004 @ 07:00 pm ODE, ODE, ODE
My grandfather is not getting better. I had hoped that I was being pessimistic all this time, and overly dramatic but alas. My grandfather was very clear about his wishes to be let go if it came down to resuscitation or not. Unfortunately, the world doesn't always exist within the black and white of death and life. Usually when a person has a massive stroke, rehab can bring back levels of functionality with hard work. My grandfather was working toward the goal of gaining strength so he could go do real full-time rehabilitation, but it is now apparent that his body just isn't capable of that. My grandmother left for a week to go to Vegas for her annual sorority convention (she's heavily involved with her alumnae chapter which gives scholarships and has a senior citizen center) which was good, because she's been at my gramp's side every day since the stroke (about 75 days now) so she seriously needed a break.
When she was gone my mom, brother and I were there with him taking turns making sure he knew we were looking out for him and were there while Gram was gone. As soon as she left he was like ah fuck it, I don't wanna get out of bed today. It's hard trying to figure out what he's thinking or feeling but it seemed that he just is tired as hell from fighting. When my grandmother came back Vegas she took me and my brother out for a bite to eat, which was nice. We always talk politics, but after discussing the apparent move to the center by way of the right by the democrats re: the convention, we started talking about the future and grandpa. My brother has a hard time dealing with things like that, so he just kinda went into space for awhile while my gram and I talked. Basically the insurance runs out for his convalescent stay at the end of august, and after that they have to pay $150 per day for him to remain there. For a person to come to the house and provide care it'll be around $30,000 for the year. They have the money for a few years so that made me feel good, because no one knows exactly how much money they actually have. I asked my grandmother if she knew what my grandpa wanted to do and she just said, “Your grandfather never wanted to live in pain like this, but on the other hand for him to be morphined out of his mind isn't what he had in mind either.” The pain he's in has been harsh since the beginning and now they're saying he may lose the leg that was affected by the stroke. Fortunately his kidney's are holding their own, so total kidney failure isn't gonna happen soon, but the diabetes and anemia has been way troublesome. My grandmother was like I just don't know what to do, I've been praying a lot. I just can't believe this is happening, it seems surreal. Last week I had a dream that I heard my grandfather talking from a distance, I woke up and was totally happy…that happy from good dreams that dissipates as you rub your eyes and wake to reality. For my family the loss of his voice has been the hardest I think, because his voice was SO distinctive and remarkable. Gravelly, deep, and wicked smooth, his bass voice would cause folks to turn their head when he sang in church. My gram has kept his voice recording on the answering machine and now I never hang up when I get the machine. It's weird to think that any lover or friend I'll have in the future won't have met my grandfather, the only real father I was ever blessed with.
When I was born it was just he and my mother in the delivery room, he was the first to hold me and in his arms was one of the only places I ever felt loved and safe. He taught me to whistle while sitting on the porch listening to the nighttime songs of the crickets and gifted me with my intense love of reading. The best was dinnertime at my grandparents. First you set up the TV trays, then you get the odd dinner my grandmother cooked up (mushroom chicken with cornflake crust topped with raisins or some shit), bless the food, and look it's time for Jeopardy! They always ate at the same time because of my gramps’ diabetes, so dinner almost always coincided with Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. No doubt why I love trivia so much. Those that know me well, know that I've got 3 last names, Cheltenham being the one I have chosen to use. Some are like but I like your dad's last name more! But it's the tie to my grandparents that keeps me keeping it. It's insane to spell but it belongs to those I belong to ya know? When I was hunting through my grandparents old stuff and came across my grandfather's headshot (signed by Langston Hughes with a thank you for working on his play) and some of the music he had written and sold in his youth, I realized that my dreams of stardom could be based on a fateful foundation; a connection to a past in which my grandfather's race seriously hindered his career…but his hope for that freedom of expression and love of performance didn't die. I hope they can continue to live through me.
@ 2004-08-04 20:29:00 Finally going to my dad's family reunion this weekend. I've been helping to plan it for the last year so I'm a bit excited. It's in Long Beach and I'm looking forward to meeting the other side of my family that's never met me. Some don't even know I exist in the first place so I'm looking forward to the whole, "Oh this is Joey's oldest", "Oh, Christina? I've heard so much about you!" and me going, "No, Joey's oldest Faith, you haven't heard about me…" LOL. It'll be great fun, luckily I look a lot like my dad so the parentage won't be called into question, it'll just be weird trying to delicately explain that both of my parents are bastards which is why my father’s side of the family has never met me nor heard of me till now…HEH.
14 September 2004 @ 09:46 pm FRIGGIN CHRIST Went back to dentist and got x-rays to make sure they didn't break my jaw or something. Everything's going ok with the mouth which is totally new and exciting. Also new and exciting: new roommate had A LOT of shit, new furniture and kitchen stuff. New roommate is like a UCLA law grad who's a fairly large vegan, like 6ft 2 and a vegan. It's amusing, but cool. He really went at it making the place cleaner (he's a Virgo) but I'm cool with that. Hard to feng shui trash as my bedroom is teaching me. Frustrations are never ending, it's how you deal with them that decides your character. Right, right. Right? Oh god I hope so. My stepdad called my grandmother when we were leaving the dentist, saying how he had "reconciled" with my aunt and uncle via an email. Basically the fallout from me and my uncle(mom's brother) and aunt threatening Child Services on their ass if they didn't quit being fucking assholes to my baby sister (hmm, mom not a good idea to spank a "cutter" especially if she's fucking NINE). At the time 2 summers ago we totally knew someone would get "excommunicated" so to speak and I suggested that my uncle and aunt (visiting from VA) and I take the brunt of it, so that my aging grandparents wouldn't get cut off from seeing their grandkids again (they usually get hit hardest by Hurricane Doug). Uncle and Aunt did end up getting excommunicated with even their Christmas presents to my sisters being returned later that year. Things have been "distant" with them since then. Since R's left home for college, things be changing up in slotown for my family, seems my mother is demanding that Doug finally "chip in" for family expenses. After 25 years seems about time if you ask me. The first 10 years he was in college and she paid for that and everything else. When he did get a job a few years ago, the money he made was for him and his diving needs and shit. So now that my mom is asking for basic respect, guess who starts getting phone calls? All the family that he's fucked over in the last few years get apologies. I just want to scream WE KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING. SAME DEAL EVERY FUCKING TIME. You apologize so she doesn't leave your punk ass and then it's cool for about 3-6 months before someone else does something horrible (in the past these have included: licking fingers at the dinner table, spilled sugar, and secular music) and it's OFF w/their head again. ARGH. No matter how far you run, you still can't get far enough away. Fast enough. With my writings I'm coming to better terms with my prince of fucking tides childhood. Still can't watch Radio Flyer, but it may be coming along…It's all the stories that I wanna put in but am scared to write the nonfiction of my life. I find myself strangely relying on Prof. Jervey's Creative Non-fiction class. Not that I really went, but the coursework opened my eyes to the world of confessional tragedy & comedies. I feel like there's myriads of stories, novels and scripts inside me, but the story of my life's gotta come first. Maybe for me a memoir is just the concrete memory of surviving. Still, Frustrations abound with the writing. I just feel like it won't stop, won't fucking quit. It's like once you open the floodgates, you become…prolific. I feel very uncomfortable talking about it and I used to feel even more uncomfortable letting anyone read anything that wasn't more than a joke. But now I feel as if I have no choice even as I don’t want to be the loser who thinks they have the NEXT great American Novel in their hands. Wotcha gonna do, just keep hammering away, hoping to chip out some sort of something that someone other than yourself can recognize, understand and be uplifted by. Not so hard right?
02 October 2004 @ 02:56 am WHERE I BEEN, FRO AND TO got this from my mom on Monday and boy did my phone get hot for awhile… Family, Just so you know, good things are happening. Lots of issues surfaced since July as we prepared to move. Doug and I met with our pastors a few times and Doug is scheduling us to start with a Focus on the Family referred counselor. This is long over due and it will take time to get healthy. One quote I was told "When trials are avoided, great deeds remain undone." This is a hard step but Doug's been communicating with Dan, Craig, Annette, and my mom so much more. He's called my dad several times. Your encouragement to stick with it is very important. Please don't worry or freak out. This is what you've been praying for. I'd like to talk with you personally soon but realize our last day at 1351 Oceanaire is Thursday, September 30th. Debora's friend, Kayla, has been a wonderful buddy since Bekah left for college. Deb is totally up to speed on what's going on as much as possible. She is sharp and very articulate about our family dynamics. She will be participating in counseling once we get underway. Our pastors have been encouraging her as well. She's on a Rec volleyball team, aceing all of her classes in 8th grade and working with the principal as editor of the school news brief. She covers the powerpoint presentation during 4th service each Sunday and attends youth group with Kayla. She communicates with me very directly about her feelings and what she expects from her parents. Realizing that the present is imperfect, my goal is to make this transition as comfortable, secure and fun for her as possible. Last night, we ate stir-fry on the floor and Deb curled up in bed with us. We move out of the house on Oceanaire this week and say goodbye to the old wine skin. (See Luke 5:36-39, Matt 9:16-17, Mark 2:21-22). Please pray for new wine skin and new wine to put in it. It's like building on a termite infested foundation. We need to intentionally go after the big fix for the long haul. So…we are moving into a nice trailer belonging to our church. It's like a temporary housing situation that, hopefully, will only last one month. It gives us time to work on our stuff without the overhead of leases, landlords, utilities, etc. It frees up money to eat out more often, go shopping and take a deep breath. I also free a tremendous weight has been lifted off my shoulders. My cell phone is the best way to communicate for now. Doug has a new cell phone, too. Remember that this is laying a foundation for a healthy marriage/family. We have more pastoral and small group support than we have ever had. I am not being blindly optimistic as I may have been in the past. This is a deconstruction-reconstruction process with 3rd party accountability and professional coaching. That's why I am very hopeful about our future. Please pray for us during this season. Send mail to the old address for now. I will do a mass mailing with new address, phone number, etc before Thanksgiving… God bless you all. Love, Lori aka Sis aka Mom …I MEAN I WOULDN'T MIND A TRAILER IN A TRAILER PARK, but the land next to the church is in the middle of nowhere, it's like a construction site trailer…but anyways it's funny b/c my stepdad's been fixing or trying to run around making up for decades long mistakes and fuckups…not with me, not one call to me. I don't blame him either, if I had done to anyone what he had done to me as a child I'd prolly kill myself…and yet he's been strangely absent from my writing, pops up here and there to be a fuckup, but not REALLY there. I suppose I'll have to go and remedy that right now, if I can. Start with the more emotional stuff first maybe? Getting locked out of the house to sleep outside when mom was on business trips, age 9. Perhaps the numbing wacky weirdness of his arrest for molesting my lil sister (charges dropped) which then led to a renewal of wedding vows between he and my mom, age 15? Or the terrific terror of him threatening my life if I spoke of abuse/neglect to Child Protective Services (they had called when I came to school with serious burns from boiling mac and cheese water), age 8? I wonder if it's possible to see the CPS records from your file as a child, prolly I should ask the new lawyer roomie about, lol. On the flip side the feelings of guilt for confessional writing seem to be dissipating. Ah, pen. Ah, paper.
19 October 2004 @ 01:40 am A LARK
Pity we can't vote for the president the same way we do American Idol. You just can't dial and keep trying to get thru…
07 November 2004 @ 01:47 pm AC/DC Tired as hell. gonna chill out and watch lost, take a nap and then go visit my grandfather in the hospital. he got checked in today b/c tomorrow they amputate his foot (diabetic foot ulcer). I have a midterm the same day, so I won't be at the hospital, but I didn't want to be there anyways. The surgery is hellsa risky, last time he had a surgery he had This stroke, but I can only pray and hope for release from all of the pain he's in, whether that be just the amputation or total loss, i just want him to not be in pain anymore. So keep your fingers crossed and if you get a chance pray for good things… 08 November 2004 @ 08:04 pm A BIT. My grandfather made it thru surgery successfully and without complication, thanks be to god and goddess. Waiting around for the phone call killed me, and I still really don't want to talk about it, I'm just hoping. and then I'm not, and then I am again. Basically just sucks a bit.
12 November 2004 @ 12:31 am Last night I dreamt So, tell me how long Before the last one ? And tell me how long Before the right one ? -The Smiths
JUST GOT BACK FROM MORRISSEY CONCERT AT UNIVERSAL, it was really really fucking good. I seem to have become a closeted Morrissey fan because I knew most of the words even tho I used to profess such a dislike for The Smiths. Morrissey is so andro it's not even funny, he kept grabbing his crotch while singing "I have forgiven Jesus" and I was like, oh dude, I feel ya. The uncertainty of gender and orientation are big themes for him obviously. I loved that he took off his shirt 4 times and gave it to the crowd, with the last song people were just losing their shit, it was awesome. Kind of like a Mad Run for Morrissey, just kids going nuts and throwing themselves on stage. Sure, you get that with Britney and other boy/girl toys band, but with him it's like people are about to slit their wrists in homage to the man. And he was like, "the funny thing is if you saw me tomorrow in Ralphs you wouldn't even stop". Great show with cute and cool lights, loved the set list too. Big ol honking thanks to MN and HJ for letting me snag HJ's tix, it was nice to have a few moments to appreciate the good things in life. Gramps was scheduled to go back to the home today, but the doctors have decided to keep him in the hospital because his blood pressure won't go down and he seems to have gotten a cough or bronchitis or something. I just can't seem to get over there to see him, I just know that seeing him without a foot will make me burst into tears or something. When my gram put him on the phone he just kept trying to tell me something, but I couldn't understand it was driving me crazy. I had a dream a few months ago where I heard him talking from another room and kept trying to find the voice. It's hard as hell, folks. For anyone that had met my grandfather, his voice was just so unique. On the publicity still Langston Hughes signed for my gramps after my grandfather worked in his play, it said something like "to the man with the voice". It's as if hell couldn't have written this tragedy any better. But i'll prolly go tomorrow because my mom took off and my grandmother has been going by herself, and whatever feelings I might have I really want to support as best that I can, knowing that whatever this short, shitty life is about, it's about that.
2004-11-26 14:13:00 DIRECTIVES AND DANCING–THE ONLY WAY TO MAKE IT Been a difficult week, we took my grandfather off all medication and feeding tube so that he can pass according to his wishes. The doctors say he has anywhere from 48 hours to 2 weeks. After some research, it seems in between 4-7 days is a better estimate. Regardless, he's not there anymore, is it possible that your soul leaves your body every so slowly, in segments? I dunno, the day before the tube came out, my mother and my sister and I went and sat with him and sang, I had forgotten how strong and good my mom's voice was. Growing up it was annoying and perhaps I was jealous never to be able to match her clarity, but being able to harmonize on the 23rd psalm was very cool, and comforting. We were at a loss for songs to sing after a bit, so we started singing songs my baby sister, D, knew the lyrics too, so some Nina Simone and Somewhere Over the Rainbow got in there too. It was beyond tragic and sad, but he moved his head once or twice to look and see who was singing, and that was the only movement we'd seen in awhile. Of course it was even sadder when he started to cry, tears slowly slipping from a body unable to communicate. My grandmother really didn't want to remove the tubes and stop the medicine but his directives are very clear re: his wishes and the tube shouldn't have been put in in the first place. She doesn't want to bring him home to pass, saying she can't deal with the stress, and part of me is dying wanting him to go peacefully, the other part wanting me to respect and understand 50 years of marriage ending in the same house could be devastating to her emotional and therefore physical health. My brother said yesterday that it looks like he totally doesn't know where he is, so what does it matter? and I am beginning to tend to agree, letting him go finally was hard enough…. Ate well last night tho at my sister's thanksgiving, went over there and went back to the hospital. good goddess the food was great, she really cooked up a friggin storm: Turkey (made by brother-in-law: best ever tasted, he marinated it in asada mix or something), Yams, Greens (ham hock included), Stuffing, Mac and Cheese, Ham, Rolls, Garlic Cheesy Mashed Potatoes (made by moi!), Deviled Eggs, Cranberry Sauce (from the can as it should be!), Potato Salad, Homemade Cheesecake (my sister bakes a strawberry cheesecake that will kill you), Chocolate Cake, and Sweet Potato Pie. Talk about emotional eating, I wasn't able to pack away a double plate like I've been able to in earlier times in life, but I sure as hell got some food down. Me and my niece ended the night sharing a slice of Chocolate Cake, she'd say "Chocolate. Chocolate. Chocolate CAKE!", burst into laughter and then run around in a sugar induced circle, fork in hand before coming back for more. It was most sweet.
29 November 2004 @ 03:41 pm BIT BUSY WITH A BUNCH OF STUFF, but I totally appreciate the kind words from everyone re: my gramps. it's totally for the best, but it's hard to say what the hell is going on, or gonna happen. My gp stopped taking his meds and declined the feeding tube. So he is supposed to eat for comfort when he likes and slowly slip into the great beyond? Seems my grandmother has other plans, regardless of the fact that he's totally immobile she stands over him and opens his mouth and shovels food down him. Of course too much food = aspiration = pneumonia. Me and my mom are trying to tell her it's better the non food way, but I think she's just focused on keeping him here. Sooner or later this shit is going to turn macabre and price-ian. I mean sure I don't blame her, 50 years of marriage and him being her rock throughout. She's been taking care of him very much so for the last 20 years so I know there's a huge psychological element here, but she's rejected any hospice therapy and talks, so we're in a bit of a tight spot. My grandfather was SO READY TO GO, it's not even funny. He left explicit instructions and my mom found 50 different funeral programs in one of his drawers, he'd gotten extra copies of the ones he liked the most. He also wrote his own obituary. There's pretty much no way to convince my grandmother that opening his mouth and inserting food prolongs his suffering, hence the removal of the feeding tube. Ah, this tragedy we call life. So very very interesting….
03 December 2004 @ 03:43 am
HELPED MOVE MY GRANDFATHER HOME FOR HOSPICE CARE on weds, was weird, my grandmother was totally against it for weeks and then she met with a hospice counselor for 90 mins and was totally down to do it. Insurance covers it and everyone's just a lot happier, they're taking care of him better than the hospital or the home was for damn sure. I think for so long we've all been so full of hope, but peace is better in the end… We had to take down my grandparents bed to put in the medical bed, and it was hilarious because my grandmother said they had vacuumed under the bed 1 in 40 years, the last time being 20 years ago. Vacuum cleaner filled up hellsa quick and my mother started to wheeze leaving me to do my best, finally I was like this is doing way more harm than good, there's no way your vacuum cleaner can get 20 years of dust, let's just let it settle aight? Lot of fav items in that room, but I've always enjoyed a framed poster size photo of my grandparents the most. It was taken right after their wedding at their first house, they looked so young and in love and my gramps has a smoke in his right hand; he’s holding my grandmother in the other. At their 30th wedding anniversary they got it from someone, but they had people sign it on their way in, so it's covered in quotes and signatures. I decided to sign my name right in the middle of my grandmother's dress, there's this shaky "faith" scrawl, i remember wanting her to know i signed it, it was one of the first times i can remember being proud of being able to use a pen. Sadly their 50th wedding anniversary was to be next year. It's funny my grandfather would always roll his eyes when I'd ask him what 50 years together was like, personally i think it's friggin crazy and almost unnatural, but still sweet. 09 December 2004 @ 01:22 am 6 Just finished yelling at the TV because of america's next top model and my sister calls , "My mom had a heart attack". No word on what the hell happened, called my dad and told him which was weird, to call him cause my sis had to get to the hospital. Backstory: me and my sister are 11 months apart, different moms. He was seeing both my mom and her mom, when both of us were born, but married her mom when I was around 4 or 5 months old. Tons of other shit later, my sister's mom is over 400 pounds and has a smarmy lil man of a husband who steals from her left and right. So it was weird because he needed to know, my sister didn't have the time to tell him, and so I did. And he was pissed, swearing up and down a storm, perhaps more because he was on his way to work and couldn't do anything about anything in general (she's still in the ER and etc). The word for the day is ineffable or perhaps, ineffectual. My mom came into LA today, to spend time with my grandfather and shit, 4 days now without food or water, tho my grandmother keeps dipping her finger in water and trying to get drops down his throat, crushingly sad. I shan't go on, lest this journal earn the name Death Watch or something 🙂 Sooner or later I'll prolly just start walking around crying or something.
I GOT MY DRIVER’S PERMIT WHEN I WAS 15. I TOOK THE CLASS AT SCHOOL, GOT AN A AND GOT MY PERMIT. I RECEIVED MY LICENSE ABOUT 10 YEARS LATER IN JAN 2005.
@ 2004-06-30 02:26:00 BRUTALITY, TRUTH STYLE Is a major issue of mine that I have been offered so many choices due to ability but lacked the resources to chase them? Or instead is it that the resources were there all along but I had been too conditioned to reject them? A fantastical week of illumination beginning with HJN asking why I didn't have a license. Something about her just makes you want to search for a good reason why you can't or shouldn't be better. I told her the usual, never got around to it in high school, fear of driving, parents forbid me from driving, etc. She asked me, "How have you made that work for so long?" and I realized that I'd been making it work ever since I've been born! My parents always had the crappiest, broke down pieces of shit and sometimes they worked, and sometimes they didn't. I was used to the kindness of strangers growing up and maybe I grew to accept it as a normal occurrence. For much of my childhood, we actually had 2 rusty 1967 Honda 360's which may be why I still have nightmares of the first day of school. When the car broke down or was just being plain stubborn my mom would pray; the first thing that came to her mind, wasn't a tow truck or a new car, but God providing. And someone always came along to help us, giving us a lift back to the house or wherever we were going. I think part of me always considered my Mom really resourceful to get folk to help us or to find some way to make ends meet. Instead was she depending on others and never herself? Am I afraid of being responsible for myself? or to myself? That I could make my own happiness and make it work was never a thought that EVER occurred to me. I'm stunned to joy, I love Illumination Week! And it's only weds morning, I wonder how the rest will go, let's see?