Ducks, geese, nuthatches, woodpeckers, red-wing blackbirds, crackles, chickadees, grosbeaks, mourning doves, robins, crows, these are just some of the creatures that call to me or fly above and around me while I walk down this dirt road. It is the time of year when the woods start getting noisy with the sound of coming life. First the birds return and eventually the creatures that have spent the long hard winter deep in the wood asleep or there for safety will start to show up again. It is confirmation of life. Renewal. The part of the year that I wish for more fervently than I ever wish for Christmas as a child. I long to see my alliums breaking through the soil, to see the first greens of the daffodils and day lilies. It is during this time of year of remember my own darkest days when I was so much younger and felt that the world had nothing to offer me. That I was a failure in every sense of the word. Incapable and unable to cope with people, drugs and alcohol.
I felt a heavy weight on my shoulders and in my heart and I tried to kill myself. Of course being a coward and not wanting anybody to have to clean up a bloody mess I chose pills. Fortunately I didn't choose well and I survived my poor attempt. It wasn't the first time I had tried and I don't even remember what drove me to that point. But I was lucky, it was a point I was able to return from.
I tell you this because of my son Eli and the recent loss in his life of 2 friends who committed suicide. I wanted to wrap him up in my arms and tell him it was alright, but its not. 2 young men are no longer here. They have left behind grieving friends and family that don't understand what happened. That don't know if there was something that they should have seen. That feel a guilt that somehow they could have saved them when in most likelihood they could not.
As hard as it is too say, suicides are selfish. I know this because I was there. I didn't think about the pain I would inflict upon others. I only thought of me and what I wanted and thought I wasn't getting. And how it would hurt others if I was no longer there.
It does hurt others. But they get to continue with their lives. They get to do and live all those things that a dead person can't. They will never forget their friend. But like all wounds the scar will heal in time until there is just a faded scar to remind them of that friend. But hopefully no one will give up on themselves because of it. They should try to be stronger and maybe a little more caring.
What does this have to do with this dirt road? This is where I ended up when I realized I really did want to live. I didn't want to die, I didn't want to do drugs and I didn't want to be so drunk that I didn't know where I was or who I was with. I choose life. Maybe that is why I watch it so closely in the spring. The trees blooming, the leaves unfolding, the beauty of it all.
We don't know how long we will be here. But we keep going. And if you take every day good or bad as a gift well it is better than Christmas.
I found my 'crazy' in life. I can make people laugh, I have been given a soulmate who drives me crazy, I have 2 sons that are the lights of my life and I cannot ever imagine being without them. I don't have to be responsible every day, I don't even have to be a grown up everyday.
My dirt road is a metaphor for my life. The bumps and ruts. Not being able to get there from here. The daily drama between animals and humans. The fact that there is a beginning and an end. With a pretty good middle. What more could we ask for on brief time of earth other to love and be loved. To find that spot amidst this crazy planet that is ours. Its is not always beautiful days, there is death and ugliness even here. And I found out long ago I can't shelter or protect my boys from the world. Just like I can't deny the bad that is out there. But I am fortunate in having a refuge on this road. An island of my own brand of sanity. Where I can weed in the warm months to release the anger or walk up and down this road and let it fly. Just speak my mind to the trees and let my words fly in the wind. I have peace here.
I wish those 2 souls who have left their mortal coils peace. I hope their families are able to find shelter. I hope Eli is able to draw strength from his family when he visits this coming week. I am full of hope. And every time I drive down this road or walk it my hope is renewed and with it my faith.
So all I can suggest to any of you that read this is find your dirt road. Whether physical or mental it will help you through those rough times in life and you will find other to share with and cling to. And eventually, usually later than sooner it gets better and joy comes again.
To Eli I say focus on a good memory. See and feel it. Talk to that ghost. With your grandma it was skating. I can see her waiting for me to go skating with her. I wasn't good at it but I loved going with her. With my dad it was visiting Sickles on a Saturday. And while he worked I visited and played with machines and got to say good bye to everyone over the PA system. These are the things that make me miss them less. Because I know it was a really good time for all of us and that transcends the worst times.
There really is no way to end this post. So I will just say, loving it, living it, sharing it....pay it forward.
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