This
is gonna be one of those “goals, schmoals” kinda posts, because
Jim died last May, and other than playing in the symphony, practicing
and playing lots and lots of Runescape and making sure I have a
viable clan (we will be eleven years old this month), I just really
haven't felt like doing a whole hell of a lot of anything. I know
that grieving takes time and that we all grieve in our own way, but
this is a bit different.
Jim
was not the love of my life, nor had we been together all that long,
but he was a dear and cherished friend; someone I met when I was
homeless and we took damned good care of one another. We recognized
the humanity in one another, although we were worlds apart. He came
from a very bucolic and rough background; worked all his life and
could barely read, but he had common sense and compassion. A rarity
seen in this world. He had been treated very badly by his spouse and
ended up in a place he never belonged and had no way to cope with it.
He was healthy enough when I met him, but there was a deep sadness
there, we all could see. All I could do was mitigate it for him and
make his final days, days of fun and laughter and let him know that
he had friends around him who did love him.
When
someone close to you dies, I don't think you can't help but reflect
on all the other losses in your life and there have been so many in
mine. I am alone, and there are times when I think I cannot bear the
loss of one more friend, one more acquaintance, see the name of
someone I may have known tangentially without completely losing it,
but I'm not built that way, just as I am not built to knuckle under
to any kind of force, or sickness, or malaise or illness of the mind.
I am so much like my mother, but on steroids, in that sense. I
possess strengths I didn't even know I had; but, I am alone. As was
my mother. So, I guess it is how we are made and our destiny. The
fault lies in our stars.
For
my part? I was treated horribly, as has been discussed in this blog
by an ex-husband, when I was at the very least, at my most
vulnerable. Screaming at me to "get a goddamned job!" when I was totally blind, with congestive heart failure, I had to endure his
horrendous insults, making no secret of the fact that he had a girl
friend and accusing me of murdering a sick and dying feline. This is
just the tip of that ice berg. I fled the home, knowing that I would
have to in all likelihood take a lesser settlement. I still cannot
see well enough to drive and although I can play, I cannot play as
much as I would like to, because I cannot drive. I have a motor
disorder, likely exacerbated by his treatment, akin to PTSD and my
life is diminished due to his greed and his need to stick his dick in
any old thing. The irony is that Bill Nunnally works in a Social
Worker-type environment for Teri Saunders at
HeartlandforChildren.org, yet he will have little to do with the
“clients”. When he was interning, I did much of the running
around to see the young girls when they were released. You forgot
about that, didn't you, Lithia?
I
have no agenda in releasing all of this information other than
setting the record straight. I had my faults as well. I drank too much.
Who wouldn't. That shit ended, when I left the homestead, but I never
pretended to be something I wasn't. But this post isn't about that;
it's about goals.
Right
now, I'm not sure, where I am. I have been editing the original posts that I wrote for “Homeless Chronicles in Tampa” when I created the blog and I would
like to publish those as an e-book. I've thought about dabbling in some
fiction, but that is hard for me, and I'm not really creative enough
to come up with some of these great plots, like Alex Cavanaugh, orJemima Pett or Damyanti G. So, I'm not sure where I'm going with
this. I do know that I need to write more, as I did in the early days
of #ROW80, when Andi-Roo first suggested I get into this, so I'm
going to go back to what works.
Write
a post a day, see what happens. It can't help but sharpen my writing
craft and maybe along the way, I'll come up with some ideas for flash
fiction or something. Who knows?
