Silence

I have never understood the human obsession with noise. I mean I like music as much as anyone, but it seems that no one can simply enjoy the lack of sound. I have noticed that most people cannot handle more than a few moments of absolute quiet without beginning to act uncomfortable. The begin to movie around and interact with the environment or strike a conversation if there is anyone present. But I find myself again and again surprised by how little the human mind can tolerate total quiet. This is proven by how often it was used as a punishment in prisons in the 1800s- early1900's. The reason you do not see this anymore is that it was deemed to inhumane as the extended silence had a tendency to drive prisoners to mind-splitting insanity. I however do not hold this view of the total absence of sound. rather than avoid it like most people do I actively seek it out. To me there is something so beautiful about it. Maybe it is its purity, the fact that sound can be so twisted and chaotic, where as silence is the most pure symbol of order imaginable. There are many times when I will try to find a room in my house where there is no one present, no phones, no electronics, no anything that produces noise and just absorb the quiet. It is not like a meditation, or a time of thinking (although they can become that). It is just sitting there and enjoying the stillness of everything around me. It will be uncomfortable at first, and some of the more energetic and excitable will get bored at first, but I have found that absorbing the silence can become quite the therapeutic and enjoyable experience once you embrace it.     
         

You do not know…

All through our lives we meet people and earn what we can from them before they leave. It has always been as such and always thus will be. However we always seem to take each other and everything we own for granted to such an extent that we forget that it might not be there tomorrow. I learn this message the other day when my aunt Lenny died suddenly early in the morning while cooking breakfast for her family. We were all shocked to hear the news and did not know how to react. We knew that she had heart troubles but had assumed that it was under control.

It was on the day of her funeral that something occurred to me. I was experiencing grief just as everyone else in attendance was, but as I looked around me I saw many classmates, school teachers, and other acquaintances of mine when I had an epiphany. Most of the people there at that funeral, family or not, knew here better that I did. You see our family has been dividend for many years for personal reasons that I will not divulge here. But as a result the last time I saw her alive was back in early grade school, and only recently have we began to mend the problems between us. It was at this that I realized that I was grieving as all of the others attending, but I was grieving for a reason far different from most of the others there. I was grieving not just for her death but also for how little I knew her and all the time that we could have shared together. The old adage is true you do not know what you have until it is gone. So try to spend as much time with those your loved ones as you can. You will never know when they are gone.

Unconditional Love

There are very few things in this world that can brighten up you day like the companionship of a dog. Very few friends will ever be as loyal or forgiving of you for once a bond is formed their love is unconditional. I myself can bear testament to the love of a dog. She has always been there for me when no one else has and in truth I love that dog more than I love most people.

 Despite her old age she is still just as active as a pup and is the matriarch of the small family of dogs that are all comprised of her children. Throughout her life I have tried my best to protect her, but despite that fact I could not protect her from everything. For weeks she had been losing weight and had adopted strange behavioral patterns. At first I was afraid that it was cancer or some other such fatal disease.

So imagine my shock when I found out she that had diabetes. I was devastated and did not know what to do. I was faced with one of the hardest choices of my life. I could have her put down on the spot, take her home and let her die peacefully, or I could try to treat her. The thought of letting her die was absolutely terrifying as she had been my closest friend and confidant for years, but the insulin shots were expensive and I was not sure that my family could afford it.  In the end my family left it up to me as I was her owner. After a day of deep thought and meditation on the subject I made my choice. I would fight for her as I knew she would fight for me cost be damned! Since that time she has started to recover and has in many was gone back to her old self, but the thought of what almost happened still haunts me and I know that one day she will be gone, but until then though I vow to spend as much time with her as I can and will continue to fight the good fight.

First Follower

Many years ago in the fourth grade I met a young man (whose Identity shall not be disclosed) who became what I like to believe is my first follower. Not so much in the religious since but in that I became an older brother or “mentor” figure to him. When we first met he was new to the campus and alone. He knew no one from here as he had just recently gone through a divorce and was living with his dad here in sunny Holbrook. In those days of youth I was all fun and games, and he quickly rose to become one of my best human friends.     

Unfortunately it was not to last. At the end of fifth grade he went and moved back with his mother in Florida where he stayed for the next three years. In that time we had no contact and I did not even know if he had survived the hurricanes that racked the south during that time. That all changed in the eighth grade when he suddenly came back. He had changed completely in appearance and in personality so much so that I did not know if it was even him. I was so shocked that when I first saw him I did not know how to react so I watched him from a distance until I finally determined that it was in fact the same person. When I did approach to ask him if he was the same person he simply replied with a yes. Apparently I had changed enough that he could not place me ether, but once we reacquainted ourselves our friendship began to resuscitate itself. At first it was tentative but rapidly snowballed back to its former self.

If only I knew what I was in for. Much like our friendship the boy’s troubles also grew. He had developed a terrible and violent relationship with his father and step-mother. Some fights were so violent that both he and his father had split lips and bruises. I rapidly not only became a friend but a close confidant. But he came to me not only to vent, but also to ask for advice. The poor kid had nowhere else to turn and was getting desperate. So I dispensed my wisdom and he listened. I soon became a mentor to him in such a way that he went to me over his family and treated me as an older brother. It was at this point that his problems began to come to a head.  One night he was so angry with his current situation that he wanted to kill his parents just to try and change his life. I took many hours of calm negotiation to talk him out of it, but eventually I was successful. I did not do it out of love or concern for his parents, but because I was concerned for his well being. This ended the talk of murder but the situation continued to worsen. Finally it reached critical mass. He ran away and no one knew where he was…that is until he called me. I spent the next week of my fall break acting as an intermediary and negotiator between him, CPS, and his mother. Eventually we managed to work out a deal where he would move out back to Florida with his mother if he reviled his location and allowed himself to be taken in. The last time I saw him physically he spent the night at our house and we sated up all night playing games and reminiscing.

Today he and I talk almost daily over the phone and he still comes to me for advice when he is troubled (which is a lot). He has since matured, earned a GED, gotten a job, and is currently a loving father of a beautiful daughter (which I am the godfather of) and is preparing to marry his girlfriend. He has repaired his relationship with his father and is trying to move back here once the marriage has taken place. He has even asked me to be his best man on that day.  Though I do not know what the future will bring him, but I know that whatever hardship he may undertake I will always be there as a brother should be.

Cousin

Three years ago an event happened with my cosine that changed his life forever. It was March 19, 2009 and my cousin was celebrating his nineteenth birthday.  In order to understand the following events you must first understand who my cousin is. He was a troubled child when growing up and as such was prone to rebellion and among his favored activities was drinking, smoking, and causing a commotion. As such when he turned nineteen on that fateful day he went out and hit the party seine of Phoenix, AZ.

It was late in the night when while driving home from the party he noticed a girl he had seen at the party walking down the street. Of course being a teen horny drunken on hormones he stopped and offered her ride to the poor girl. As it turns out she was not walking home. No instead she was going to find her friends and see if they could score some beer. My cousin being the trouble maker that he is had no complaints. So they went off and found her other friends another girl and a guy. So they commence with the drinking and the partying when in their drunken stupor a fight broke out. The male of the trio pulled a gun on my cousin and threatened to shoot him. My cousin, being the tough-guy of the family, in his drunken rage told him to fire and put the barrel to his head and told him to fire. Whether the man was bluffing or choked I will never know, but he quickly put the gun away and he with the other girls tried to subdue my cousin. But he was fast and quickly made into the car, unfortunately they made it too. One of the girls quickly pulled a small four inch knife and began to try and stab him. Ether she was too drunk or was having too much resistance from my cousin because she could not stab him. Unfortunately she handed it to the dude who began slashing my cousin in the back. They stabbed him seven times in the back before tossing him out of the car and driving away.

            To hear him describe it was fascinating and horrible at the same time. He said that every time his heart beat pressurized blood would shoot out of the largest wound and sprayed at least three feet away. He began screaming for help at the top of his lungs as he began to bleed out. Thankfully someone called an ambulance, though the only reason he survived that long was because he shoved his fingers into the largest wound to try and slow the bleeding. By the time the ambulance arrived he has half dead and almost out of blood. He spent two weeks in the hospital hooked up to machines to survive and another three weeks in rehab. Two months later the two girls were caught with his stolen car and were sentenced to two years in prison for aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. The male is still on the loose but we are ever vigilant. As for my cousin well he learned not to trus everyone just because they offer a good time.                                  

How I learned at what temperature I melt.

         This is a simple story from my youth and of one of my first scars. It began one night when I was nothing more than an innocent little boy of four. I was not always the calm, collected, and sarcastic weirdo you have all come to know and love. No, I was a very excitable child and was often prone to run around, play, and carry on like most younglings are apt to do. This was especially true when I was watching a movie that got me excited. I remember that it was night time and that a movie that I had wanted to see in theaters (though for the life of me I can not remember what it was) had just come out on T.V.  and was being shown for the first time. Back then we only had two televisions in the house, one T.V. for the living room and one for my sisters room. So it came to pass that my family was currently using the living room television which left me with the on located in my sisters room. At the time I did not care though and I remember rushing in ,siting on her bed, and flipping to the channel it was going to premier on. An hour later the film was reaching its climax. I, in my youth driven excitement, Began jumping up and down upon my sisters bed. Higher and higher I jumped until I lost my footing. Now normally This would have been no big deal I had fallen of of larger things before and came out just fine. But there was one key difference about this fall. My dearest sister had absentmindedly left her curling iron on the floor...and it had been on for. hours. I remember slamming into it and hearing ,before I felt anything, my flesh sizzle. I screamed at the top of my lungs and the whole family came rushing in to see what the problem was. They quickly pealed the iron off of my leg taking a generous portion of my skin with it. For days we cleaned it thoroughly to prevent infection. Of course the iron had to be thrown away ( on account of my skin having been welded to it and all)  and my sister got in a ton of trouble. Despite the blinding pain and agony i went though that night I look back at it fondly. My brother and I still joke about it and to this day he will call me by the title he gave me that night. That title is bacon-leg (because of the scar it left behind).