Today I am thankful for synchronicity and the opportunity to ask for help.
We buried aunt Judy today.
The cemetery is in my home town. It's the oldest private cemetery in Colorado.
We buried her next to my great uncle, C. Ringling*. He died three weeks before I was born. Story has it that he ran away from the circus because he abhorred the way they treated the horses. He spent the rest of his life training them. If he were alive today, he'd be happy that the circus days of the past are no more.
He's buried next to a baby named Susan who died when someone put a can of gasoline next to a gas water heater. For years, my mother would drink and cry about baby Susan. For her, the trauma of the loss of her niece never ended.
I'm worried about my uncle. He looks so lost and distraught.
He's an extrovert. I told him that he needed people.
He said that he's tired of people and wants to immediately go on a road trip to find a cliff.
To someone like me, that sounds like a suicide threat.
I wish we were as close as we used to be. That man had taken me into his home whenever my mother would binge on alcohol. He was, for the most part, my father - until Judy came. Judy couldn't stand me (and many other members of our family). Many of us distanced ourselves from him when Judy started abusing us. She never played games in front of him - she always waited until we were alone.
I lost my mind when she stole money from my grandfather. I actually hired a lawyer but my grandfather died within a month of my discovery. He had willed money to me but I left it for Judy and my uncle, calling it "cursed blood money." At that point, I became the family advocate. As far as I know, Judy didn't steal money from any one else I knew after that. She tried. People would come to me and it seemed to stop the moment I mentioned the word "lawyer."
I learned even his children had stayed away for 15 years.
It sounds like a very lonely life. It hurts to see him in so much pain.
My family thinks I'm overreacting about the concern that he will try to end his life
- but that first year -
that first year feels impossible.
I don't know him well enough anymore to how to help. Judy stole 35 years from our relationship.
*****
I perused the cemetery and spied a beautiful, huge, red tombstone with two granite hearts. As I walked towards it, I looked down and saw two familiar names -
my heart sank.
I found that I was standing on the grave of the parents of the old friend I have nightmares about. I didn't know this his mother died recently.
I had no flowers or anything to give, so I just sat in front of their granite headstone with an etching of a beautiful pine tree on the left
and asked them to look after their son.
I told them that I don't know their eldest son very well anymore and that I was having nightmares about him intoxicated and depressed. If there is even the smallest chance that he's hurting, I asked that they intervene.
I told them that I'd reach out but my presence tends to cause their son pain and creates such a confusing mass of emotions that I doubt we could ever be friends as adults. I fear hurting him.
I asked that they look after him and lead him to where he needs to go.
I'm shocked I didn't cry.
They were good people - good, beautiful people - people who tried to help me before I became a homeless teen when Judy was kicking me out of my uncle's home. Wise as they were, they realized their son liked me too much, and that having us live together would have probably created a second mess for me to clean up**. Of course, they were right.
His mother is the one I try to emulate when I take in homeless teenagers.
After my one sided conversation, I left, feeling a mixture of awkwardness and shock.
Maybe it wasn't one sided, I had the distinct sense that they wanted me to go to a legalistic church and pray to Jesus.
Maybe.....I'd do it for my old friend (if my feet don't burn upon stepping into the church - lol)
*****
Next time, I'll bring a bunch of flowers for the five graves I need to visit.
As I drove away, I pondered if I would have the time or the resources to create a homeless community....
What in the world can I do now?
******
It's been a long day,
I'm off for some well needed sleep.
Perhaps this will spell the end of the nightmares***.
Love ya,
S.
* Suddenly realizing why my family has the big tent in the show.
** What happened was my friend Jim talked me into selling some of my instruments for rent money. He and his gang of beautiful gay buddies took me under their wing, cosigned an apartment for me and helped me finish high school. They even taught me how to do my hair and put on make-up. Too many of them passed away due to AIDS. Jim is still alive but he hates my conservative politics. Little does he know that Libertarians have always fought for gay rights.
***I awoke Friday morning in a peaceful state. There were no nightmares. Perhaps this needed to happen.
I don't why I'm afraid to admit feeling love my old friend. Deep down, I'm afraid I'll turn his spouse (if he has one) into a stalker. The cops claimed that Michael starting stalking me because I went out to lunch with Tom.
The stalking started in 1992.
Tom had nothing to do with it.
Again, I really don't know why I'm afraid to admit that I love my old friend.
Love can never be a burden if we don't abuse it.
One can always love silently in the background.
May all your dreams be sweet,
S.