Wednesday, August 6, 2014

A Broken Heart can be as Serious as a Broken Bone

There are so many things I want to write about today... Actually, this is the one day that I wish I was working instead.  I am paid by appointment, and there will be no income for cancelled appointments!  I just borrowed money to get an apartment~ So, it is vital that I have a steady income right now.  However, I have learned~ When life knocks you down with this much force, don't fight it... Take this moment to reassess and appreciate the necessary time off.  A broken heart can be as serious as a broken bone.

Let me start with this story... Jimmy was a random stranger I met in a bar out in Reading, PA.  I had just played a featured set at the open mic there, where my friend Matthew Bailey hosts.



Matt and I met on occasion when he visited Philly to play city open mics.  A tall, strong black man in his twenties; I would not have imagined him to be such an innocent and unconditionally optimistic soul upon first seeing him.  However, he caught my attention by playing an original he wrote for a friend who committed suicide, "What a Drag".  His words touched me.  They drew a picture of a person gone that I could still meet.  They explained his pain in being unable to make his friend understand that there is healing in music that might have saved him...

I understand... because music has saved my life many times.

...Back to Reading- upon finishing our set, my partner broke away to visit with an old friend, who was also dealing with a personal tragedy... My suggestion to go play this gig was largely in part to create an opportunity for this meeting.

In the meanwhile, I knew that my presence would impede their communication- and Matt was still performing... So, I struck up conversations with the local patrons.  The first one I wanted to meet was a large biker with long dreaded hair.  He had a very distinctive look that left me dying to ask a silly question, "Would you be offended if I asked if you've ever dressed as a Klingon?"



He laughed uncontrollably, "I'm a Star Wars, not Trek kind of guy."

We exchanged words over our mutual taste for Sci-fi.  His name was Tommy.  He complimented my set and offered to buy me a shot... "It's the least I can do," he said.  Reluctantly, I agreed- feeling like liquid courage would help me socialize with strangers.

Feeling a little more brave after, I asked if he would let me put an Echo Victory sticker on his chest for a picture, "You know, like how they have hot chicks wear t-shirts with brands across their boobs?  This is my reverse gender exploitation!  I'm going to post tough dudes marked with my brand!"

He was into it.  He thought it was so funny- that when his other biker friends came in, he introduced me and they let me do the same with their riding vests... This is how I met Jimmy, Amber, and Ty.

Suddenly, I couldn't help but notice that Matt works in a very different world from Philly... I grew up in a small central PA town, much like that area, without many minorities mingling.  Some part of me felt a little concern for whether this group of bikers was open minded and friendly to everyone- or just cute girls.

I told myself to put my prejudice out of my mind and remain in the conversation.  I learned that Amber is a nurse... Having worked in a hospital and nursing homes, I was quick to tell her how much I admire the work nurses do!

She was shy.

I invited her to my aMUSEment even party, "I know it's far, but it's really an awesome experience!  -and we do it about twice a year, if you can't make this one... There will be more."

As I continued getting to know Tommy- a former marine... who rebelled from having his head shaved weekly by growing long dreads... and Ty, a tattoo artist who showed me his amazing work on his smart phone... I could overhear Jimmy talking to Amber, softly, privately.  He was explaining to her that I was being so overly friendly because I was a performer, "It's a good thing."

Although I did not address what I had eavesdropped, it stuck to me.

Too often I am bombarded by "friends" who tell me how I look at any given moment... frequently accompanied by a strange reenactment.  This never ceases to make me uncomfortable.  However, what I heard Jimmy say opened my mind... That thing that I was trying to force myself to practice, to learn; how to meet strangers, acknowledge why they are special in their own rights, and enjoy the fleeting moments we share... I was obviously doing it right!

...By then Jimmy had offered to buy me a drink, "Alcohol or non- it doesn't matter, my wife's not drinking 'cause she rides her own bike."  He smiled with pride.

I looked out at the table where my partner and his friend were still deep in conversation, half wishing I could check in with him first to be sure he wasn't waiting for me to ask to leave... "I'll have what you're having," I smiled.

Amber giggled, "Oh, now he'll definitely wear your sticker!"

We drank our rum and cokes, telling jokes... Until the topic started to get very racial- I think I may have likely been the instigator.  That was when I realized, although Matt had given the mic to Tommy now, he was sitting away from the crowd.

I wandered over to him, "What's up?  These guys are funny!"  I whispered, "Can you tell me that guy's name?  I keep forgetting."

Matt looked at me blankly, "I don't know him."

Somehow I closed the gap between where Matt and the crowd were sitting enough to hear Ty say, "Okay, you can come back.  We're done telling racist jokes.  Really, we're not like that..."


I smiled, "How does every black joke start?"

Before I could go for the punchline I knew, Matt chimed in, "No offence, BUT~"

Everyone chuckled and chatted... and I felt good, really good.  Jimmy was talking about what crew he biked with and how they wouldn't let anyone "mess with" Matt.  He really made me feel like... It had been ME being a small person, presuming I could classify his character according to his appearance and profession.  Somewhere in the pain of growing up, I had picked up my own prejudice... Believing I could tell anything about the quality of a person based upon what pictures they decided to ink into their skin or where they pierced a hole... But in only a couple short hours, Jimmy both showed me a side of myself I longed to meet, as well as a side of Caucasian men in his social subsection that were modern and just trying to live good lives.

...I have followed their posts on Facebook... I have commented encouragement when Amber has posted about the challenges of being a nurse... Only today did I realize that the reason there have suddenly been so many more posts with Jimmy's name tagged is because he passed away last week, five days short of his 31st birthday.

I do not know the details of his death.

........................Strange- How fragile life is.  How suddenly it ends for some people who are appreciating it... While people like me complain about wanting to commit suicide.

Last year, around this time, a good friend lost her teenage son to suicide.  I remember seeing her post announcing it... I recall feeling guilty that my immediate, unconscious response was pure jealousy.  A teenager figured it out!  How hard can it be?  Why am I stuck in this life?  This body?  ...This beautiful body.

I have avoided speaking out about those feelings because I was still working past them.  However, having lost my partner yesterday- to complications I will leave between he and I -I will remind myself again and again; what a good friend of mine told me during one of our disagreements, "It could be worse.  He could be dead."

I have been working hard to find a reason to want to live- even without him in my life -to release him from the unintended burden he has been carrying- to give me purpose.  Perhaps it was not possible to prove I had found it until I could live alone, not for anyone but myself...

I do not know what the future holds, but I not ruling anything out anymore.  Anything is possible.

Jimmy, Amber, and their families are in my prayers... People who touched me- the way that I want my music and writing to touch others.

Sunday, August 3, 2014

An Unfinished Letter to my Cousin... January 2009

Billy Jo,
Happy belated holidays!  Hope you and your family are doing well… Don’t worry about not being in touch.  You have good reasons- for which you have my sympathy.  I have the advantage of being responsible only for myself (and I don’t always do a good job of that- So, I don’t know how you do it all!)  You little girl is growing up quickly!  Thank you for the pictures.  She’s as adorable as ever!
I might graduate in May… IF I get 183 hour the necessary experience at my new hospital practicum… and IF I pass my comp exams (that prove I learned everything they taught), then I will graduate in May instead of in July.  It will be a lot of work, but if I graduate early, it’ll be worth the brief discomfort… I’ll be catching a train every morning at 6:17 AM.  My internal clock is going to require some serious resetting.

On the bright side, I’ll get to wear scrubs every day… So, I won’t have to worry about dry-cleaning or ironing or even matching!  At my other practicum, I wasn’t even supposed to wear sneakers.
(sigh)  It’s upsetting that after I was assigned to this hospital, I decided to move- effectively doubling my daily commute, from 30 minutes to an hour.  This is unfortunate, but I’m really happy with my new apartment.  It’s in an old garden style building in Ardmore (where people who work in the city seem to live, if they have money).  The train station is only a five minute walk away.  Then it’s a 20 minute ride into the city of Philadelphia… From there, I transfer to another train and ride north thirty minutes.  The remaining mile is either an uphill walk or a bus ride, depending upon the weather.

I was feeling stifled in my tiny studio… and MB, well, the bad news is that his family’s business crumbled, again.  The good news is that he has decided to go to college.  This was why we found an apartment close to the city but also not far from his father’s house.  In fact, his little sisters go to school a train stop away… It’s fun having them around.  It is the first time I have played big sister.
Anyway, now we are sharing this place… something we agreed that we were planning to do eventually.  So, we just moved the timeline along a little faster.  It really wasn’t because we wanted our relationship to be more serious.  I didn’t mean to move in with MB for convenience or to be frugal, but I think those are just unintended benefits… MB is my best friend as well as my boyfriend, and that helps a lot.

Today was my hospital orientation.  They made us sit through four hours of safety videos.  Ugh!  It’s interesting that I thought I’d be the only student there, but instead there were two other girls from other schools as well.  My supervisor works from 7 AM to 6 PM, and she’s says she doesn’t take a lunch.  So, it’s up to me to “stay fed”.  It should be an interesting few months.

I’m very tired and low on patience.  I just barely missed a train that would’ve gotten me home an hour earlier… But MB’s cooking dinner right now in our lovely little apartment.  It’s going to be wonderful to come home to that instead of my crumby empty studio, even if it was thirty minutes closer.  It’s so nice to be with someone who takes care of me as much as I do him.

We’re looking at the local community colleges for him.  He’ll start in the summer.  He’s very worried about classes- as he hasn’t had any since high school –and then he wasn’t a very good student.  But I’m confident he’ll succeed if he just tries (instead of opting to pursue some business venture his father cooks up, thinking it’ll make him money faster- which seems to have been the plan many times up until now.)

But his dad has been supportive, thanking me for MB’s new plan and telling me he knows MB wouldn’t be going to college without me—I’m sure he has good intentions, but I’ll believe it when I see it.  His dad has been burned in business enough times to figure out his sons are the only reliable partners he can trust.  He expects MB to do so many errands; chauffeuring him to and from the airport, fixing his stepmother’s car, helping with his step-sisters… What about when MB has a class?  Will MB tell him no?
I like MB’s family, but MB… feels more obligation to them than I do to my family.  I want a partner who makes himself and me his priorities, but this may be a process for him.  I think it will be easier when his sisters aren’t children anymore… I hope.

Anyway, life has been moving so quickly these past few months.  It’s been good.  I get anxious once in a while, but I don’t get anxiety or depressed.  I’m going to be crazy busy.  I won’t have any time to work at a part time job, but maybe I can graduate early and get an SLP job sooner- that would be amazing!

It hasn’t even been two weeks that MB and I have been living together, but already we’re noticing that we have more petty confrontations.  I told him that I didn’t say anything about how he kept his apartment because it was his, not ours.  It’s the little things; I had laundry and asked him for his before I did the wash.  Then as I was folding, all his socks were little wet balls.  Well, he likes to wait until he’s putting them into the machine before unrolling them…