You’ve heard those stories of people who’ve reached their limit patience and fortitude, along with the depths of despair, and – just when they think nothing good can happen – something extraordinary comes along to make everything look wonderful? Well, that’s sort of what’s happened to me here lately; that is, over the past few weeks. But, not necessarily that dramatic. Being chronically unemployed, dealing with aging parents and then sick with allergies or pollen or whatever the hell is this shit that’s been assaulting my nose, has really taken a toll on my mental and physical health. Then, I realized what’s truly worth haggling over. And, it’s not another job in corporate America or how badly my finances are dwindling. It’s things – people actually – that are invaluable and irreplaceable. Only a handful of people really care about me besides me; my parents and my dog among them. I know I won’t have my folks for too much longer, although it’s still depressing to watch two people who were once resilient to most anything look so frail and vulnerable in their golden years. My dog will be 10 years old next month – roughly 70 in human years – and I think he’s already suffering from arthritis, so I don’t know how much longer he’ll be around either.
I keep thinking I’ll die in this house where I grew up – alone with my books, writings, rum, model cars and maybe some dogs. And, you know what? That’s just fine with me. I’m single and celibate anyway. I don’t need anyone in my life to make me feel whole and complete. Relationships take as much work as raising kids, and I’d rather raise dogs because they don’t bitch and they don’t turn on you. My last relationship ended over the phone, when he called me and said he couldn’t take my distant nature anymore. I could almost hear the violins playing in the background. If I wanted that kind of drama, I’d get involved with a woman, which I’ve done before, too. That didn’t work either back then. So, I told him I had more important things to do than listen to him rattle off his feelings towards me and slammed down the receiver of the old brown corded phone I had. Slammed it down hard. That thing weighed about 2 pounds! It was my first phone and outlasted every cordless and cell phone I’ve had over the past 17 years. I kept it as a back up; sort of like a survivalist mentality and picked it up when my then-man friend starting whining. Strange, though, we’re good friends now. But, I still like being alone too much to give up even a smidgen of my freedom to someone else. Damn writers!
Another close friend of mine tells me to go to Catholic mass and say all sorts of prayers, including the rosary. I forsook that crap years ago, when I became more spiritual and understood that I don’t need a religious crutch to help me through each day. A cousin of mine surprised me a few years ago by revealing he’s atheist, which I’d expect from someone as well educated in the medical field as he is. I’m borderline; questioning whether even the Mother Earth and Father Sky I mention occasionally actually exist. It’s all faith though. A blind faith. Personal.
I normally don’t reveal this much publicly, not even to strangers, since I really don’t know all of you who follow my blog. But, I love you nonetheless for your passion, which comes through in the posts I read each day. We creative types are a strange, isolated bunch. Introverted, determined, moody, difficult and sometimes deadly. But, I look at my parents – wanting to extract the lifetime of stories they have in their souls before they leave me – and I look at my dog – with his titanic mocha brown eyes and his curious gurgling that’s akin to a cat’s purr – and I understand again what’s really important in my life.
Thanks for reading my operatic rant and may the Great Creator – whoever the hell He or She or It or Them – is or are for bringing us all together.
Stay around! I have lots of verbiage in my cerebral orifices that needs expunging.
Chief Writing Wolf 