Monday, June 28, 2004

...answers to the name Lucky...

I remember this old joke, if that's one would call it, that brings an introverted chuckle out of me whenever it pops into my brain.

LOST: Dog with three legs, blind in right eye, half a tail, and recently castrated. Answers to the name Lucky.

I often think of that in hard times, because it keeps me grounded. That poor bastard, can't even find his way home and has everything against him, yet there are people out there that care enough to look and miss him. It's one of those half heart-breaking, half funny jokes that you giggle about when they come up.

This is brought to mind because I just found out today that I'm a pall bearer at my Aunt Eve's ceremonies. About a week and a half ago, I dislocated my left shoulder doing something stupid (not really sure how). It wasn't horrible, since it's happened before and it's loose and it's used to being out, but it's weak and mildly uncomfortable until it pops itself in properly. That happened about two days ago, and now I have full motion back without the pain. It just won't hold much weight.

I keep asking everyone to put me on the right side of the casket. I'll probably even ask the caterers who will look at me like the troglodyte that I am. I just have this horrible image of being on the left and my shoulder totally poping out, the casket falling open.... Just bad imagery.

I booked my flight from Florida back to Connecticut for tomorrow. A one way flight this close to departing time requires a donation of blood, an appendage, and a piece of your soul, but there's no way I'm going to miss paying my last respects. I also figure that my family is going to need a shoulder to lean on (that was way to punny), especially my mom.

Years ago, before I left for college, I had a friend die. The reason isn't really relevant, but he was a guy I became friends with as he started to clean up his life. It just happened that he fell back one night, and it ended his life. The horrible part is that I had been there to support him and his sister the year before when his father passed away. In about a year, they lost a father and a brother, leaving behind the mother and daughter. It was a cruel, cruel twist of fate. I just did what I could to make his sister smile. I didn't really have anything else to give her.

These tangential stories do coalesce, however. I'm strangely unaffected by death. The process of struggle makes me cringe a lot more than someone actually passing. Perhaps that makes me look like a truly apathetic, sterile person, but that's not the case. I'll miss the people in my life that I have lost, without a doubt, but I also know that the time I spent with them was great and the best I could manage. I don't regret, because I tend to think that just having them in my life was a blessing, and that they choose (on some level) the proper time for them to go. I'll always love my aunt, but perhaps she's in a better place now.

Many people think that my attitude is unnatural, and some have stated jealousy in my management of my emotions. What they don't realize is that things tend to hit me later, after all of the comforting and consoling of others, the rush and the stress. I sit down and then my mind has time to chew on it. That's when it hits me, and I cope with it just like anyone else, in my own way. I've matured enough over the years to know how I handle things, and how I need help. With the things that have happened lately, I'm a lot less afraid to reach out a hand and acknowledge to everyone and myself that I can't always do it on my own.

Even if that means I have to pay $300 an hour to someone just to rant and talk as non-linearly as this post has proven to be.


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