Fogged up and Damp

If I remember correctly it hadn’t been 3 months and I was back. It felt longer but the type of longer that didn’t make the heart go fonder. At least by the time I had settled into my stay anyway. The moments before that was cool. Getting ready for a trip no matter how tight things may be, or how uncomfortable the trip itself will be, is an exciting pass time. But like I said…then you get settled in.

Goodbye to sunny palm trees of turmoil, hello fogged up and damp well of woes. The chill of the air infused with my deepest grievances overcame me the moment I stepped off the plane. The thrill of packing for a trip was over. The measure of excitement was equal to the measure of knowing it was a “have to trip”. While the reason for the trip was being handled, yet another struggle in itself but it wasn’t mine to enclose in this blog, I had to partake in my own personal realities.

Forms and signatures. Being that I moved, they came as I came. I came and there I was. Various forms had to be signed. Forms that when signed on the dotted line closed a chapter of her life for good. Various forms that finalized everything. I no longer sign my name that way. Not sure how much of a conscious decision that was.

Visiting family and familiar faces after a tradgey…my opinion…take small bites. It doesn’t matter what stage you are in finding peace, rubbing two open wounds together can never be a good thing. And it wasn’t.

With hugs and kisses genuine enough one wouldn’t realize the CA-BOOM! that was about to occur. I knew better. I’m good for that, knowing when the slip was coming, no matter how slight the implication. The emotions were brewing and it was a matter of time. I either reminded every one of the one they lost, the one I lost or their grief brought on the ever popular yelling and the blame game. They reminded me of who I was sorely lacking in becoming or ever could be. I reminded myself of that as well. I lacked so much. I lacked the ability to deal with it. With them. Our emotions were like a can of soda being shook everyday since I was there last and now that I was back, well you know what happens to shaken cans. Drowning our sorrows, laughing and yelling through the elephant sized void we felt so deeply, we all dealt. Dealt with it all one way or another.

I dealt.

…But all the while Jesus had already won the game on my behalf, over the pain, over the anger, over the blame.

…Jesus been dealt.

A Rocky New Beginning

Cocaine rocks, paper, scissors, go…maybe not in that order

Ever watch those movies where someone comes across the bag full of cash and drugs and you wonder what would happen next and what they would do? Ever thought about what you would do?

Well, scratch off the part about the cash and lets discuss what we did, A, B, C and I.

Rocks…We started off in Hollywood. Fresh from Massachusetts, we settled in a motel, emphasis on motel, not hotel. We were far from ballin’ (meaning very well off) as they say. I believe it was after the first or second night one of us admitted to how uncomfortable the beds were. Another might have said we should flip the mattresses. Removing thin comforters and sheets off the bed, one of us felt something. Why so lumpy? Suspicion ran through us all. Scissors… Grabbing a small pocket knife a tear was made in one of the mattresses. Eyes bulged and eyebrows raised. Another mattress, another tear. Was it what it looked like? Was this really what it appeared to be? Did I leave my somewhat comfortable futon bed back in the apartment my brothers and I now shared to sleep on a crack cocaine infused mattress? Like seriously?

C, who was showing us the ropes, confirmed it was what it was. It was decided it had to be removed from the room where we stayed. Go…We also decided we had to get out of there, period. I blinked. Paper (money)…Before I knew it, stuff was being sold on the corner and whatever security we felt for just having a place to rest our heads was diminished by the fact that this motel was ‘hot’, and not in a good way. I’m no where an expert on drugs and how much they cost but I will say that the findings from our mattresses combined could have made an excellent beanbag chair. Okay, a little exaggeration, but it was a lot. Enough to know whomever put it there would definitely be back.

From living a typical teenage/young adult life, having house parties, staying out late, and anticipating the return of my mother from her trip, to now having no maternal guidance, full of anguish and sleeping on mattresses that encased drugs and unknown troubles. Finding the rocks opened my eyes to my surroundings. Why hadn’t we noticed the suspicious looking residences of the motel, the prostitute infested street, and the uneasiness of the environment around us? What new beginning was this? God, how is this my life? This new existence of mine was getting scarier by the day.

Eventually, a return call. A check in call to whomever back in Massachusetts. “How is everything”, a family member asks? “Fine.”

Fine. Yea right.

Deuteronomy 31:6 Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.

…This new life was starting off rocky. But He was with me all the while. That whole thing would’ve gone so much worse had He not been.

…Thank you God for being there even when I didn’t acknowledge it.