Category: Summer

Writing from the heart is the hardest. It exposes a rawness that most of us don’t walk around with on a daily basis. Unlike many other arts, heart writing is an art presented in a language that is not generally open to interpretation. Thus, there it is. Our inner demons, mush, scars, treasures. Laid out for the world, or at least whoever lands upon the prose put to paper….to view…judge…sympathize with… empathize with. Although there is a sense of sharing in putting it all out there, there is a vulnerability that I don’t really care for.
With a premise like that, I’m interested to see if I have the guts to continue—first with the writing itself, then with the posting, then with the leaving it.
Sixteen years ago, I said no to a friend. He had asked me to go fishing with him and, though I did so love fishing with James, I didn’t go. His “fishing” included taking a couple of chairs and a cooler of beer out to our favorite lake and setting up some poles off the dock. We never caught anything—except for sunsets, philosophical conversations, and the occasional sunburn.
So, I said no. Because I was signing divorce papers to throw away an abusive marriage that day. Because I had senior finals the next week. Because, because, because. Life for my 21-year-old self was busy. I certainly had stress and reasons. Reasons that I still understand, actually. But then, James died. Less than a week later, he drank himself into the devastating depression that was always lurking just below the surface. He shot himself, without a note or even a tantrum to leave this world with.
And I wished I’d said yes. Or at least, not no. Every year, I am filled with a certain amount of regret, a sadness, a “what if?”…. But mostly, I miss him. He was the type of human that you just wanted to be around. He was caring, thoughtful, intuitive, and deep. His laugh was contagious, his jokes hilarious. He was tough. James was born with extreme physical disabilities (his doctors didn’t think he would ever walk—but he did) and every day was a physical and emotional challenge for him. He taught me so much in the four years that I knew him. And, he loved me. For who I was. I swear that kid was one of the first friends who truly knew me. There was a specialness in his presence that even made things like working in retail not so bad. If he were here today, my kids would refer to him as “Uncle James” and he would proceed to spoil them rotten.
This week is a hard one for me, but also it’s a time for introspect. A time to be grateful. For life. For strength. And for love. Love that is surrounding me today and love that has enveloped me and hugged me and nourished me and thrown me into the living—through the fishing, the dreaming, the stargazing and the dancing.
To sum it up, this week reminds me to be thankful for certain endings (like an abusive marriage) and so, so sad for other endings. Sometimes, all we can do is take a deep breath and carry on.
~S