I’ve always been one for direct speech.
For better or worse, I conceived of speech as a straight line linking two communicators.
But I was wrong to leave feelings and emotions out of the equation.
To quote Sting, it was “the sacred geometry of chance” that got the best of me. For in the end, it was blind chance that gave me pause for thought.
You see, this lesson of life became apparent to me on two different occasions.
I may have missed the first, but I sure did not do so, the second time around.
First time, one early morning I woke up to an urgent message from my uncle. “Call me right away”, it said. So, I did. And that’s how I found out my poor mother had passed. They had found her expired on the floor of her apartment. She had been lying there for a day, perhaps more.
My uncle broke this horrifying, mind altering, mind-killing news to me as gently as an adult man could, under the circumstances. I should be grateful for that. But truth is I am not. I feel guilty, horribly guilty for how alone my mother was when she died. I will always carry that guilt with me, wherever I go. It will not let go of me.
I should have pushed my mother harder to come live with us here in the New World. I should have forced her to leave everything behind and live her late years with us. I am sorry, mother.
I am so sorry. So utterly sorry. So miserably sorry. So dreadful sorry.
Anyway, I haven’t. And because of that, she ended up alone, with her cat. Of her, only a bunch of photographs remain. And even they sit silently in a corner.
In the end, I missed this chance to grow as a man and understand how hurtful I am to the people who love me.
I went back to Romania, to lay her to rest. And after a week’s time, faced with a growing number of stressing factors, I gave up and threw a hissing fit. I basically told everyone, including my wife, BFF, etc. to sod off. I let myself down and I disappointed them. I was, nay, scratch that, I am an ass. A monumental one.
Instead of taking it all in, like the man, I thought I had become, I chose to spill it all out. I went Admiral Farragut on everyone: Full speed ahead and Damn the Torpedoes!
I missed an opportunity to prove my mettle. Too bad, so sad!
Today, of all days, I was given another opportunity to correct my course.
My uncle called to let me know he’d found my mother’s birth certificate original copy. I thanked him profusely. He proceeded to tell me in excruciating and morbid detail the circumstances of my mother’s passing, the condition of her body, and how the undertakers were barely able to preserve her the two days it took me to fly back.
At one point, even my uncle realized that I was beyond shock, and he stopped mid-phrase. Too late for the graphic imagery he had conjured in my active mind. I deserve this. I accept this. Let this be my penance for my transgressions.
If only! I wish! I guess God will reserve judgment in His intricate and nebulous ways.
And this is when it hit me. This is when I realized how much I deserved it all. You see, it is now that I became cognizant of how much of a bloody bastard I’ve always been with people’s feelings. By being direct, I ruined any chance I had to establish a friendly rapport.
In short, my Life so far has been the one sung by Peter Travis in his Lonesome Billy.
Always lonely, always looking
To get even with the men
Who did him wrong
That was Billy, lonesome billy
Who was quick to think a gun could make him strong
No one tougher or more daring
Only he and his gun sharing the great fight to live
And his great love to fight
A rough man who played with danger
To whom trouble was no stranger
Until one day he lay dying
He’d filled his date with destiny
Never friendly, never trusting always kept one ready hand near his gun
That was Billy Lonesome Billy
The rough man
Who would rather kill than run
The rough man
Who would rather kill than run
Lonesome Billy by Peter Travis
Not stopping to consider other people’s emotions proved almost fatal to my reasoning… and social circle. Only blind sheer luck allowed a few hardened veterans to linger in the hope that one day I’d change.
My dear family and friends, I know that nothing that I say can make a difference. I will let actions speak for me.
I now know I was wrong, so very wrong.
It’s only when confronted by other people like oneself that one realizes how wrong they are.
So, in the end, I have my uncle to thank for opening my eyes to my own failure.
I am grateful, uncle. I am grateful.
Götterdämmerung 