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Monday, December 25, 2017

Finding Peace

Yesterday I was reading through an older collection of The Amazing Bob's poems – from the books Oni recently found while cleaning out their basement. I hit on a raft of hard, sad, yet hopeful ones from after his first marriage went belly up.

Now, to be very clear, he wasn’t sad AT ALL about saying so long to that wife. Nope, it was the unknown financial hell that he was cast into. How would he survive, on his exceptionally meager pay, in big-ticket Boston? Why stay in this insanely expensive area? His ex and their son would be staying and he absolutely lived for the boy. Also his job was here, friends too.

In the first crazy days, panic and fear rode him like a cruel dressage jockey. I encouraged him to see a therapist. Naturally, I was eager and willing to listen, to hold his hand, to offer whatever assistance I could but unloading on/talking with/getting advice from a neutral party, a pro shrinky-dink could truly help. Of course I felt that way! Still do. He wanted to but didn’t feel he could manage the bill. I introduced him to places which ran on sliding scales – you paid what you could afford.

He found a therapist that he liked. He found an apartment he could afford. He managed to fend off his greedheaded ex’s assholic, Machiavellian machinations. Money was squeakingly tight but things worked out and, eventually, he was given sole custody. TAB made it.

When I first began seeing a shrink – way back in the Pleistocene – I had a hard time putting words to my feelings. I drew pictures and Sally and I would go from there. Similarly, TAB brought his therapist, Nancy, poems. Art was our native tongue – it’s where we started.

For Nancy

I was born in Hell
and raised in the streets
I slept in a dangerous place,
a cold, dark, silent space
punctuated with explosive words
and woke up blinking at blinding lights,
frozen in fear
too frightened to cry,
too alone to dare scream for help
and so I learned muted ways.
I learned to be silent, wary, watchful –
a grazer amid carnivores,
poised for flight but nowhere to run to,
nowhere to hide but in imagination –
And now after all those ruined years
after my alcoholism,
my failed suicide,
after the ulcers, bad marriage, divorce,
in the aftermath of all the loneliness
all the hidden unhappiness
I asked for help.

And now at last I’ve begun
to see colors, feel warmth,
remain sober, play in the sun.
now I’ve begun
to discover who I am
and what I might want.
now things don’t look so bad,
as hopeless.
now I can laugh and cry,
explore love and trust,
accept who I’ve become,
grope my way forward.
Now I have todays different from yesterdays
and tomorrows that matter.

The Amazing Bob was my hero.
So this is Xmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
And so this is Xmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

A very Merry Xmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

6 comments:

  1. Would that there were only three ghosts. I'll not go as far as the h word, but I harbor an intense dislike for this day that borders on the emotional. I'm going,to eat a big marijuana cookie and go,see The Last Star Wars.

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    1. Yes – no shortage of ghosts on Christmas. I hope the cookie was fab. Did you like the flick? I saw it a coupla days ago – enjoyed it but was very sad after. It was hard to see the Resistance down to just a dozen warriors. Yes, I'm overidentifying and shit.

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  2. I left theater feeling the weight. Maybe because I was born (yes, not found under a rock) an Outsider, but I've been at this resistance thing a long time - was against government when against government wasn't cool - and I think it a bit of an epiphany the survivors fit in the hold hold of a smugglers cigarette boat. Our contemporaries are gone, and regardless our best effort we're handing the world to a generation perhaps even less prepared for what faces them than we.

    A phrase popular when I was in Vietnam was "Oh the assinine futility of it all."

    But Laura Dern jumping to light-speed through the middle of a star destroyer was damned impresive.

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    1. "Oh the assinine futility of it all."

      I like that—hadn’t heard it before but it certainly sounds like something Bob would have said. (Also a Vietnam Nam vet).

      One of my Grands (she’s 12) already seems aware that things are fucked and injustice is rampant. Being aware’s gonna make for a misfit-ish adolescence (been there/done that) BUT I’m so proud of her.

      You’ve mentioned being an Outsider before. I’ve always, ALWAYS, felt out of step with (and more than a bit mystified by) the society around me. Is this what you mean by Outsider or is it something else?

      Dern was spectacularly fierce. Loved that scene.

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    2. out of step with and more than a bit mystified by society

      That's a good way to put it. Not a part of it. Living on the outside.

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