The truck still isn’t unpacked. The room is in need of clearing out in order to unload, thus I’m pretty much stuck at the house since I can’t leave the truck in a parking lot with what is essentially my life in it.
On the other hand, not much is going to get off the ground until I get internet up and running. The dial-up AOL combination usually times out before the login at the job sites completes… making it essentially pointless. I’ve been scanning papers and pulling together a call list of local businesses and agencies that I’ll start on tomorrow.
I really should locate the local library. I’m fairly certain they have the same one hour internet that was present in Florida. If so, that would be great for job hunting once I can take the truck out and about (after unloading).
It’s fairly quiet/peaceful here, which is helpful. On the other hand, as is usual when it’s quiet, I think too damn much. The last day was something of a mental meltdown and once I got a grip on it, things steadied… but in the moment, it was a bit ugly. Times like that, I just go hide in the room and lock the door. Usually. Made the mistake of holing up with the computer and managed to splash a bit on someone else. Bleh. Perhaps not too badly. I suppose time will tell.
Two good looking jobs but one is already filled. Haven’t heard from the other as yet. I”m pretty sure I’ll find something quickly once I really ramp up the search. Part of me feels weird to have this ‘down time’. Not used to it, I guess. A nod here to the truly fortunate presence of my parents.
For those reading, and for reasons I guess I really don’t fully understand, I continue to feel the need to say they’re not “really” my parents… but they are. I guess in some ways, that people who never had to give a damn actually do is still something of a wonder here.
Actually, I often think about them as the proof that such things really are possible. Which usually just has the net result of making me all the angrier that so few people in the world will as much as breathe on the notion, let alone make it real in their proximity. I keep trying, but you know, it’s just not something you can do alone. Kind of the point.
Anyway, they are here for me in the way no one else has ever bothered to take the time to be… and some day, I’m going to find the way to thank them with more than words. Words just don’t do it for things like this. Hard to explain, but if you have anyone in your life …. especially if you only have them… you know what I mean.
They’ve pretty much told me to just… relax. Take my time. Don’t sweat it.
Of course that just makes me want to move all the faster to not take more than absolutely necessary from them. I mean hell, of all the people in the world I could possibly be a weight on, not that I ever want to be a weight on anyone, but these people least of all. If that makes sense.
I guess you could say what I know of love came from them. The reality that it isn’t about how well someone lives in accord with your opinions, or how often they manage to do what you want or like… it’s about caring and loving and being there no matter what.
Even when it isn’t pretty.
Even when it hurts.
Even when you’ve been misunderstood.
Especially then.
I used to think such a thing didn’t exist. They taught me different. But over time, I have learned for myself how truly, truly precious and rare it is… because I have yet to meet anyone but them and myself who actually just… does it. Or who are willing to do it… or even try.
In a lot of ways, just being here is keeping me from slipping over the edge into… well… into something I’ve been fighting against becoming all my life.
The drive up and yesterday were two rather bumpy moments in what has already become a slow and careful replenishment. Not sure if I’ve mentioned it… but these folks constitute the only people I’ve known, literally, ‘all my life’. Or at least as much of ‘all of my life’ as I could ever claim in relation to other people.
If you ever wanted to ‘really know me’ — these would be the people you’d need to talk to… and I reckon you’d not want to talk to them unless you were prepared to find out all the things you can’t bring yourself to believe in anymore are just as present in them as they are in me.
They were the houseparents at the children’s home in which I was raised. So, in truth, my parents from about age 7 until now. That’s thirty-five years, for those curious or counting. There’s a lot of my life they weren’t involved in, but no matter that, my calls were always received with happiness, my visits with hugs and smiles, and my presence with love and care.
It’s funny, but in a way they’ve made the same transition I have… there was a time when they didn’t think of me as ‘part of the family’… and I remember very clearly when I was with Delta and wanted to give them the travel benefits I had… the only way to do so was to have them adopt me… so I asked… and they said ‘no’. It was the first time I realized that despite how I saw them… it wasn’t necessarily how they saw me.
There was a bit of silence for a few years there. Mostly because I felt so horrible that something I had been so certain of was just… in my head. It was a grieving time. I won’t say more of it.
When things fell apart in 2005 and I returned to Georgia and rented this same room… November… somehow things had changed. I can’t even say I know how. They just had.
When Christmas came that year, Dad handed me a letter and he, Mom, and my ‘brother’ Bill gathered ’round as I read it.
The letter said they too, had thought about it all since that moment… and amongst themselves had realized that I was, in fact, part of the family and it was high time they made it official.
I cried then. I’m crying now. Not sad. Just remembering. Feeling it. Feeling the things that reach up with smiles for it… and the things that wilt and wither and fade in the face of it. It is the first time in my life that I actually felt I belonged. Felt I had family. REALLY felt and knew it.
I guess being here again is just bringing it home in a way that even that moment two years ago couldn’t. Sometimes, really believing in something is hard. But here, now, I sit here and feel it and know it and regardless the stupidity of life, it’s changing circumstances, or any of the other…. this is a gem that cannot be spoken of accurately, or correctly conveyed. It’s a blessing and treasure I thought I’d never have, didn’t believe fully in when I first realized it, and only now, finally know and understand.
Isn’t it odd how every time you are so certain you’re going to finally fall fully into that un-named, unknown, totality of transition into every hopeless, despairing, everything you ever feared becoming… something like this happens and saves you?
Beautifully odd.