Sometimes I feel like I have lived lives within lives or at least this one. I have been one person in one life and another in another.
Tonight listening to Bon Jovi Dead or Alive I was reminded of an
other life within the realms of lives. People follow Bon Jovi like The Grateful Dead. I have met such a person where a certain unique man from my past was working near our apartment where we were living. I had my own place, but I lived with him part of the time across town, took taxis back and forth.
I had spent several years with a sophisticated good looking Australian man who was not very warm in a general sense, and who was using me to say the least, and I will say the love there was definitely something to be desired. So when I met the long haired Dan (I will call him to be anonymous), I felt like I was seeing someone I knew like deja vu, like I had seen him in another life before if not this one. He seemed familiar to me.
Our life together was about him working, us shopping and cooking, and about him controlling me to the best of his ability as the rules got higher and higher, and as soon as I learned the rules they changed.
When he was at work I would do arts and crafts, play the guitar, clean the apartment, cook, as well as watch TV, listen to my talking books and go down to the beach in my swimsuit to sunbathe and swim. Once in a while I went out with a friend. He gave me a cell phone, his cell phone, but if I left it at home when I went to the beach, he would get mad that I did not answer. Then when he came home he would check every call I made, obviously not trusting me, and was always accusing me of cheating on him while he was at work, with the neighbors who I was not allowed to associate with. This was of course insane the notion that I was cheating on him. Of course he partied with them when I was back at my own home, and I could talk to them if we were together, but he said if I ever embarrassed him and drank with them he would "sling me all over the place." I must have been nuts to go along with these shenanigans no matter how many nice qualities he may have had. A friend even said to me, "you're not allowed? Are you nine years old?"
The apartment was right on the ocean and he was a good provider and let me have my way in terms of TV shows, etc.. There was love. We slept together every night, but if he got mad he actually told me to sleep in the chair which of course I would not do, just laughed at this because it was so stupid. We had my mother over for a cookout and he told her that I was the boss, what a lie. The only thing I was bossy about was the air conditioning at night and not wanting him or us to drink, knowing from experience what it could lead to at the time.
We were happy for the most part until he began drinking and became war making, violent and incredibly abusive. At this point I left him never to return except breifly as friends years later. At this point he had changed and we hung out as friends and he was not acting out, but I eventually backed off because there were other women and his life was full of drama which he thrived on and I thought was stupid and redneck. Not to mention he started asking me for cigarette money, and that was the winter my son was very sick and I was assaulted by some crack addicts who were illegally camping on my street before the police drove them out of here. Do not get me wrong. I still like him at a distance.
You may wonder why I wanted this. A friend of mine said I was "intrigued and slumming" but that is not very nice, since we are talking about a person here, although he did treat me badly. It may seem weird that a woman like me with sophistication wanted to be in this and could not see what the situation was. Actually I did, because I contacted CASA in advance because I knew what was coming. I knew about abuse. I knew the warning signs, just was in denial and did not want to admit it. The reason why I guess is that I had not really felt loved before, not like this. I do not mean the controlling and all and in the end it was not like love at all, but there was some sort of love I was not familiar with and it had nothing to do with lust or anything like that, just some sort of earthy belonging and that is what held me at least for awhile. It is hard to explain, and a life I thought I had with this person. But, this amount of dysfunction is not healthy for anyone.
Later a friend was telling me about a girl crying about not wanting to leave an abusive partner. She said, "I know a woman who is blind, can't drive, and she walked out on a good looking guy she was in love with because he put his hands on her one time and never looked back. If she could do it, you can." She was talking about me.
Being sick sucks. It started out Saturday morning waking up with a sore throat that felt like two razor blades and a chainsaw splitting headache. Thinking it must be strep due to the severity of the sore throat and headache, I took some penicillin which I proceeded to take diligently along with lots of nutrients and ibuprofen.
However, by yesterday night around sundown, I no longer had a sore throat, but I had a congested nose and chest and no cold medicine whatsoever. I felt like I was suffocating as I gasped and coughed. I felt like what my son must experience with asthma and when he had whooping cough although I know he had a much more serious condition. I called him and asked if he thought one of his asthma inhaler which were here might help. He said I was welcome to them, but he did not think they were for my condition. I did not. By some miracle I fell asleep and slept off and on all night.
I scrolled my cell phone in bed to see if there was anyone I could call to bring me something, but my ex boyfriend who is a close friend, even though still working has stage four cancer. Of course I could not call him. I was too shy to call my neighbor. I figured "well if I am suffocating I can always call 911. That is what the cell phone is for, emergencies mostly."
My other son is coming home today and I am glad. Still, I think I will go get some cold medicine and I will not take anymore antibiotics because this is obviously not strep but a bad chest cold.
I just finished watching, well a while ago,
Bag of Bones. I actually read the novel on talking books for the blind twice. Again Stephen King's theme was grief, but there was a happy ending alas. And yes I watched a funny movie from the '70's called House, a dark comedy, comedy in the guise of horror, and as a good friend suggested I found something to make me laugh since I am sick, and this certainly did. First of all all the women (two to be accurate looked like Farah Faucett), although I admit I wore my hair like that then too, only I was a brunette. This is post my profile picture, which was an outgrowing shag. I had not yet gone to college to learn to set my hair like Jacklyn Smith. Of course I learned more than that, but 'primping 101' was a big part of college for me. How to pluck your eyebrows, how to curl your hair, how to apply make-up and what color goes with what. Well with RP it is too bad that color coordinator the C. f. B. gave me is broken and only says "white" since I cannot tell purple from brown, brown from black, navy from black or gray from any shade of light blue or light green, cool colors. Thank God for those sock sorters on
the socks in my drawer.
The funny part was the guy in House looked like a Baba person and how they made a comedy of Vietnam flashbacks I have no idea. Sorry if that was in bad taste.
So, I have concurred that Stephen King's novels are about grief and sometimes happy endings like in Bag of Bones. I feel like King is a kindred spirit.
This is one time I will say that I enjoyed the movie more than the book.
Many of my friends, even the ones who are Jewish as well, seem to be less in alliance with Israel and more sympathetic to Palestine. For a long time I was really surprised, because I thought being pro-Israel was the only American stand.
Now I see both sides and I agree that Israel has acted badly and militantly. I understand about Palestinians not being able to go to their own family homes.
I guess I see Israel sympathetically, well not sympathetically exactly, but I feel that if
WWII never occurred and if it had not been for the Holocaust, the Jews would not have needed a state. Churchill established Israel in 1948, because the Jews no longer welcome in Europe and unable to go back to their homes and businesses which had been taken over by gentile Germans, French, Dutch wherever in Europe they had lived, needed to have somewhere to go. Contrary to what many people think they could not come to the U.S. under F.D.R.'s closed door policy. Ships were turned away at port at the start of the war. Einstein was an exception because of his knowledge of physics and the making of the atomic bomb, so that he became an honorary professor at Princeton and was paid for people to come and take a walk with him, listening to what he had to say. Churchill was very sympathetic to the Jews. When they were in the camps they would say "at least we have Churchill." And of course they had America and Russia coming eventually after most died to free them. Churchill's son in law was Jewish. So, the once British owned Israel became the official state for the Holocaust survivors.
During the Holocaust the Jews had no choice but to passively take orders be pushed around and abused much like black people in the United States in the early days, only worse because they were being put to death.
Of course black people were often lynched in America for a long time.
The African Americans really built America through slavery and then through low paying jobs. Unfortunately the work the Jews were doing in the concentration camps, which were in the guise of some sort of work camps was just some kind of made up torture work the Nazis came up with.
I guess I sometimes compare the two peoples because I am Jewish and someone close to me is African American and I more than he like to talk about the trials and tribulations of my people, and he returns with something about the treatment of the black people here in America.
At this point I do understand the other point of view about the Middle East, so my opinions are less stable now, so I just support my own country, the United States.
But, I will say that seeing the events that led to Israel being the state that it is, it does make sense that they are so militant, although I know that it is not justified. I guess I try to look at the big picture, and I welcome comments, because I realize people form opinions on events of the present more than the past and rightly so. Also, I realize that abuse and murder of one's ancestors does not justify abusive and murderous behavior. Having the state of Israel granted is also not reason to make wars with those around, and I realize the establishments of settlements is wrong.
Now that my book is finished, although not edited and bound yet, it was quite an experience. Thanks to Stephen King's book on writing I sped it up a bit and finished it finally after several months. I started in January.
I did a lot of writing on Mother's Day. I focused more on Lizzy, the mom in the story after Adrien, Daniel's best friend's funeral.
Adrien was given a military funeral after dying heroically in Iraq at the age of only eighteen.
I had not been able to relate to Lizzy, but I finally did understand her. The death of Adrien had caused her to begin drinking again after a long period of sobriety or people in twelve step programs would say she drank because she wanted to, but this is not about AA jargon, but life and drinking is addressed very little in my book.
After coming out of her binge, straightening out and going back to work, she begins helping a young woman who is very poor and hiding from an abusive husband from South Carolina. This girl is also legally blind like Daniel and has a twin sister who is legally blind and between the two they have six kids under the age of ten. Lizzy loses herself in helping Norine who has come all the way to Vermont. She also finally goes to see Jill, the mother of Adrien, who she had drifted away from over the years. I think she needed to relate to other women more for me to know who she was.
Then when the whole family goes to Framingham to spend Thanksgiving with the grandparents who are very rich, I was listening to the Joni Mitchell song, Rainy Night House, which revealed to me the reason for the estrangement, that had finally been broken down. This is why I quote the song,
"you are a refugee from a wealthy family, you gave up all the golden factories to see who in the world you might be."
Joni Mitchell
Then I focus mostly on Daniel again. I think he is most important in the story having retinitis pigmentosa and being a great musician, although his younger brother Nicolas is autistic and suffers from seizures.
I have told a lot about it, but no more than a book jacket. Now that my book is finished I am not sure where to direct my energy.
Stephen Stills said "love the love you're with." James Taylor wrote a song called "Shower the People". I think the meaning of these beautiful songs is love the people around you.
Sometimes we fixate on someone or something we cannot have, all the while the thing or one we need is there loving us all the while. I hate to be redundant, love is always unconditional if it is real, so unconditional love is redundant in its meaning.
Even the times we are alone are meant to be for a reason. Being alone is not really alone, because we are all God and God is omnipresent. There is no need to fear. Fear is what love is not.
Be kind. Be gentle. Be who you are. Accept yourself and all shortcomings. Do not be like me and beat yourself up all the time because you are not perfect. Much love.
I think some people use fb entirely to promote their business. fb is supposed to be a social network unless you actually are a business. I mean some people do not even want socialization on their page! That is stupid. That is what a real web page is for.
It may look like I promote myself with my articles, my novel and my singing videos and poetry, but truthfully I do not make money on any of my skills.
I also do Reiki bodywork, but I do not promote that on fb. Also I enjoy socializing on fb. I think it is fun to find out what people are into and get feedback. Sometimes if you tell an annoying problem like cat litter dirtying up the house, someone will suggest a different brand or someone might suggest a book, author, or musical artist you may like. You can share links and they can share them to you. It is awesome.
I admit it is too bad that many of us are isolated and do not socialize much in real life, but for me I can only take so much real socializing before I get a little tired, although I am a social person. I love having my kids around and enjoy having people over, even cooking for people on occasion. My favorite kind of person to hang around is the kind where we know each other enough not to have to talk. We can just watch TV, eat or lie around on sofas sleeping like 'Beevis and Buthead', lol.
I am so relieved to be finished with my novel. Yesterday I went over past written material from January and February to figure out what I wanted to use for the preface, forward, introduction and epilogue or afterward. I dedicate it to my two sons.
As I was in no hurry to finish my book. I am in no hurry to publish it into a bound book, although eventually that is the idea.
If one wants to you can actually read my blog off my 'New Humanity Blog'. I have ideas for what I want to write next, possibly an FBI novel or something totally unrelated to my life as opposed to this one. Who knows.
every light shown from the sky like meteor showers in which i saw you,
you stayed til the end when water turned blue,
and lit up the world like the sun's ocean view.
every kiss, every word, every mention of you reminds me that i will always always love you,
til winds die and the birds cry,
and the water runs dry,
til truth is a lie,
never.
Sometimes I get upset about the smallest things and feel so threatened by the dumbest little rejections, and at the same time I can be so calm about the most serious calamities. I seem to be able to keep inner peace.
Meher Baba said "be careful of strangers in your heart." You may never have heard this, but he said it to one of my family members, well two, my sisters about a letter they wrote asking if he liked the Beatles.
I hope my sister who is my friend on fb will not mind me saying this. If I am inaccurate, she can correct me. I often let strangers into my heart, love people, women and men who do not love me. Put too much importance on friendships that are superficial.
The reality is that everything that is real cannot be threatened. It is only the bullshit that can be, and that does not matter.
I have been worried about losing a couple of facebook friends who never even said anything to me on fb and probably never read my blog. Why would such a stupid thing matter in the bigger scheme?
Sometimes therapists give you this test to see if you are sane. They say, "what does 'can't see the forest for the trees mean?" or "what does people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones mean?" "Uh, I don't know," I say like Beevis and Buthead. LOL.
I do not know why they ask those, but I do know what the one about the trees means because that is what I am talking about. Sometimes one just cannot see the big picture. And, it can be your ego in the way anyway or mine anyway, so therefore there really is nothing at all to feel bad about or be fearful of. Love to all.
On Saturday, everyone stayed home, since Nicolas was not well, but doing better. Jack took the family for Chinese food that night, right in Framingham, at an authentic Chinese restaurant, with silver cover dishes, hot tea, and fortune cookies.
They spent the day, playing games like cards, shrades and boggle. Some time was spent raking the yard, from the falling leaves.
Sunday afternoon, Lizzy, Jim and Nicolas dropped Daniel and Bethany off at his apartment in Boston. Daniel and Bethany decided to spend the night together, and she would go back to Keene the next morning, even though it meant missing one class. Daniel did not want her driving at night, saying it was dangerous.
They bundled up and walked to a nearby grocery store, where they bought a six-pack of coke, some smokes, some cheese, crackers and apples. It was not a balanced meal, but neither of them were hungry, knowing they would soon be apart again.
They spent the evening in Daniel's room, to have privacy from his roommates.
"You know, Bethany, it's not the same back home in Vermont. I mean Mom has always had to work a lot. We barely have heat in the winter. Nicolas is sick a lot. Mom has never been able to keep a relationship for long. I know she really likes Jim, but truthfully I think she is waiting for the other shoe to drop.
She had a bad drinking problem, when I was in junior high. She got sober, but it has not been easy for her. For us. I was a handful with the alcohol underage, that my friends and I were into, and the drugs that I don't even think she knew about, except maybe the pot.
It isn't like that for us in Vermont. I just don't want you to think it is like this enchanted life, like at my grandparents. We never even saw them hardly, until one year ago, and Mom wanted to make up with them, and then they sent me to school."
"Daniel, you told me all this back in Durham, that night at Ali and Todd's, the night we met. I'm not a gold digger, Daniel. My parents are pretty well off. My father is a lawyer, and I am sure Mom is going to get her fair share. I love you for you. I love your mom and your brother, all of them. Mostly I just love you. Don't you know that? I could care less about money. I would live with you anywhere, in a tent, a cave, a trailer, whatever. I'm not shallow. I may be a Jewish princess, but - "
Daniel laughed and put his arm around her. "I know. I'm being stupid." They lay down on Daniel's bed and held one another.
"It will work out Daniel. I think it is fate."
"Fate." He repeated it softly, "fate."
"So you packed your tent, to go out and live
out in the Arizona sand, you are a refugee
from a wealthy family,
you gave up all the golden factories to see who in the world you might be."
Joni Mitchell ( Rainy Night House from the Ladies of the Canyon album)
Daniel had not had the heart, to wake up Bethany. She looked so beautiful, and fragile sleeping. In the morning, he leaned over, and brushed her bangs off her forehead.
"Hi," she said bleary eyed.
"Hi, I've been watching you sleep. Is that creepy?" He kissed her cheek.
"No, silly," she said. Her cell rang from the dresser. "Can you hand me my phone? Urgh, it's my mother," she said, looking at it.
"Hi Mom," she said, "I'm sorry I didn't call last night. Yes, I'm okay. Yes, we had a good Thanksgiving. How about you guys? Oh, I'm sorry. I know. I'll be home for Christmas. Can I bring Daniel?"
"Well Bethany, your sister, Diana's boyfriend, is coming too. I just wish you'd have called yesterday, on a holiday, for crying out loud. You know this divorce I am going through, with your father, is not very pleasant, to say the least."
"But, you didn't call me either, Mom," Bethany clarified, "I know, Mom. I'm on your side. I haven't even spoken to Dad, well - I mean, barely," she sort of stammered, a bit. "He did call, - but I know. I'm sorry."
"Well I just wanted to know everything was alright," her mother, Joan, said.
"Fine, Mom. I'll call later. I promise. Love you, too."
"You have to take sides?!," Daniel asked, feeling surprised, at what he had heard.
"Well, I don't have to. It's just that I feel bad for her, because Dad's got a girlfriend, who's like my age, and it's kind of creepy, if you want to know the truth. I don't feel like my mom deserves this. She has never cheated on my dad, and she's been a good mother to my sister and me."
She and Daniel lay talking for a while. Daniel listened to Bethany, describing the dynamics of her relationship, with each parent, and the difficulty of having your parents separate, even when you're in college already, as she was. He listened, attentively, nodding intelligently, as she spoke, until Lizzy came to tell them that it was time for breakfast.
"Grandma and Grandpa like the family to eat together, like civilized people," she said, in a mocking tone.
Perhaps, it was fifty percent, that they had disowned their only daughter, for being a non-conformer, a hippie, an unwed mother, and a liberal, but fifty percent was her own quest, to make it on her own. She had to find out who she really was, and if she could make it, like someone who had no parents. Also, the tension of their demanding traditions was hard for her to bare, all the time, and the turbulence of the relationship, drove her away, but she was glad to be back. Maybe, they had even become more mellow.
"We're going fox hunting in Westborough today," announced Jack, at breakfast, in a matter of fact manner, like no one else had any say in the matter.
"Dad, Daniel can't see, and Nicolas is uncomfortable around guns. You know that, Dad. Remember last time?," Lizzy protested.
"C'm on it's the Whites' tradition. You women can go shopping."
"I'm up for it," Jim said. He was a hunter as well, and owned a few guns for hunting.
Lizzy rolled her eyes. "How sexist. You women can go shopping?," she mocked her father, teasing him. "OK, but let's listen to Daniel play for us, after breakfast," she suggested.
"Of course," Tara said.
There were croissants, danish, a pitcher of juice, fresh coffee, eggs, toast and french toast. Tara had prepared breakfast with Jack and Lizzy's help. Elaina was off today.
After breakfast Daniel performed in the living room while everyone sipped their coffee. He played and sang an original contemporary, Led Zeppelin influenced piece, one classical piece by Christopher Parkening, and a gorgeous, inventive jazz blues fusion, instrumental version of Summertime by George Gershwin, which he sang very sweetly, in his beautiful tenor singing voice.
Everyone applauded, and gushed about his great talent. Bethany was amazed once again, transcended to a euphoric, peaceful, tranquil, unearthly, almost alternate universe, by the tone of Daniel's guitar strings plucked by gifted hands, and the gentle tone of his singing, with its paradoxical power and strength, at once.
Lizzy felt so proud. Jack, Tara and Jim were impressed. Nicolas was indifferent, as usual, but listened attentively.
After clearing up the dishes, Lizzy asked Daniel and Nicolas if they felt okay about hunting, but they both wanted to go.
"Will you please, please be careful?" She looked at them, to her father, to Jim, and back to the boys again, with a worried look on her face.
"Lizzy, I won't let anything happen to the boys. I feel like their dad, almost," Jim answered sincerely, with a smile, and a pat on Nicolas's shoulder.
"Yeah, and what am I chopped liver?," joked Jack. "These are my only grandchildren, these fine boys, Elizabeth," which he rarely called her, "I am not letting anything happen to my grandsons."
After the guys left in Jack's new Hummer, Tara suggested that they go to East Gloucester, to an antique gallery and boutique.
Bethany loved the idea, being an artist, although she was still disturbed by the idea of shooting innocent red and gray foxes, but it was, after all, 'fox hunting season in Massachusetts,' as Jack would have said, and Lizzy had assured her that there was no debating Grandpa Jack, as everyone, including Lizzy, affectionately called him now.
"Mom, couldn't we just go to Target? I need new jeans and sweaters for work, and the boys need new clothes for Christmas, and I'd like to get something for Dad and Jim. It's Black Friday. Everything will be on sale. Or is that too bourgeois?"
Bethany, being or feeling, an outsider, did not want to come between them, so she decided, as young people often have much wisdom, to stay out of it.
So, they ended up going to East Gloucester, where Bethany marveled over the art, and asked the gallery owner many questions, even how she could have a show, although she felt too humble, to really do this. She was still a student, although very talented in her own right, as Daniel was. He had not seen her work yet, except for one or two shots, she had taken with her cell phone, of some sculpture she had done, and a video on her phone, of she and two fellow students, working on a collage together. Daniel had said it looked like fun, like playing in a band, with other good musicians.
Tara purchased a painting of a landscape, with horses. It had an elaborate, metallic gold frame, and was quite expensive. The owner spent a lot of time, packaging it very carefully, so the glass covering the canvas, would not break.
Bethany was more interested in the abstract paintings. One caught her eye, in particular, an abstract nude, in only three colors, black, red and white, with swift, curvy lines. She thought she might be able to do something like it. She also thought it would look great in her room, back at school, that she shared with a roommate.
The gallery had some antiques, as well. Lizzy was staring into a glass casing, in which were WWI and WWII memorabilia.
There were black and white photos of American soldiers being decorated, an American uniform from WWII, an ammunition belt, a faded American flag, and a German belt buckle, from WWI, with an inscription in German, which she could not really read very well, but deciphered, Gott Mit Uns, around a molded crown in the center. God with us, she was able to translate, from what little German she knew.
There was also a knife, that had been a Nazi war weapon, during the second world war. She wondered what kind of sinister person could want such a thing, as that. She almost felt a pall come over her, just looking at it.
Adrien, having been in Iraq, came to mind again. 'If only we had been fighting a war, that was as obvious a cause, as fighting the Nazis,' she thought.
She had heard people in the bar, talking about the war in Iraq, saying it meant nothing, that it was wrong, and she supposed she felt the same, but had not Saddam Hussein, been cruel to his own people, and gassed the Kurds? What about the rape rooms, George W. Bush had talked about, in his speech, shortly before the war? She recalled reading an article a few years ago, in Time magazine about it. And, yet it was not quite the same, although she had heard that he had had Jews hung in Iraq, and thought perhaps, he was like Hitler, and in the same Time magazine, a story of him giving a man back to his wife, as she had begged to have him back alive, but he had given him back, in pieces, in a black, canvas bag.
It had been hard for her to agree with her liberal peers, when Adrien, so close to her son, and her family, was over there, fighting in that war, Operation Iraqi Freedom, and had died, trying to save others from an explosion, and had saved life, but lost his own. In a way it seemed that the liberals were right, because there were no weapons of mass destruction, and Iraq had little or nothing to do with 911, unless there was intelligence that civilians could never know about. Was not Bin Laden the one they should have gone after? Still, was it not part of being American, to support the troops, trust our government, believe wholeheartedly that we were doing the right thing, bringing freedom where it needed to be, that we were 'the good guys?' In WWII, we were, had freed concentration camps, along with the English and Russian allies.
Bethany tapped her on the arm, "we're ready to go. You okay, Lizzy?"
"Oh, yeah, sure. Let's go," she said, wiping her eyes, that had begun to tear.
Afterwards, they had fish and chips on the water. Then they went to Target in a strip mall, back in Framingham, where Lizzy bought new jeans and sweaters for work, and the clothes she had wanted to get Daniel and Nicolas for college and school, as well as a new sweater for her father and one for Jim. Tara insisted on buying Bethany whatever she wanted, and Bethany declined, but Tara insisted, and Lizzy had raised an eyebrow to her, so she took 'Grandma Tara' as Daniel called her, up on the offer, and chose two pairs of jeans and two sweaters, as well as a sweater for Daniel and a game for Nicolas, who loved playing XBOX.
It was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which he had said he wanted.
When they got home, the phone was ringing. The land line had a talking ID, and flashed off and on again, bright orange light, showing that a call was coming in.
"Oh my God", shrieked Tara, "it's the hospital."
It was Jack. "Darling, don't be alarmed but Nicolas had a seizure. We are at the hospital. They prescribed clonazepam, because the valproic acid he has been on, is not working well. The gun shot startled him. I suppose Lizzy was right. We'll be home soon. We have to get his prescription. We'll be home as soon as he is discharged. I tried your cell phone, but you must have turned it off or had it on vibrate. I was going to try Lizzy's phone, and then I decided to try the house in case you were all back. Jim did not want to upset her. She has been under a lot of stress, he says, since Daniel's friend Adrien."
"Oh, I think I actually forgot it. Oh, Sweetie, thank God it was not something worse. I'll tell Lizzy."
That night they just had turkey left overs, Nicolas lay next to the fire, and everyone doted on him, waiting on him, hand and foot. Everyone was cheerful and grateful, as Jack, Tara and Jim sipped brandy, while Lizzy and the kids drank cocoa, Lizzy being, presently on the wagon.
"So did you shoot anything?" Lizzy asked.
"No," Jim answered. "Jack fired at a fox, but then Nicolas started screaming and freaking out, and the next thing we knew he was having a seizure."
"I'm kind of glad you guys didn't kill any innocent foxes, Daniel," Bethany said, holding his hand by the fire. She put her head on his strong shoulder. He rested his head against hers.
"Do you want to go out and smoke, and walk Rusty while we're at it?," Daniel asked.
"Sure." They went out into the barely snowing air, and smoked, while Rusty took care of business. And, then the snow turned to a gentle rain. They smiled just a little, for no reason at all, except for a hint of joy at being in love, something older, jaded people lose sight of, new love, open-minded, no reservations kind of love, that everyone once knew, and then forgot.
"Are you doing OK, Daniel?," she asked, "I mean, with Adrien and all?"
"I suppose, as much as can be expected. I miss him. He was my best friend. I feel like if I could have gone, I would have. You know? I mean to Iraq, to the army. I would have gone, if it weren't for the RP. I'd have been right there, by his side. Sometimes, I think it should have been me, and not him. Why him?"
"I'm glad you are here, Daniel. I love you.
I don't care about the vision. I will lead you around if you go blind. I just know you are the one."
He kissed her for a long time. "No one ever said anything like that to me, Bethany. No one. I mean, that it was OK to be me, really me, who I am, that you love me for myself."
Just then, Rusty ran back to them, gleefully, and they all went back inside, blowing out the last of their gray, blue cigarette smoke, into the cold, New England, November, darkened, evening sky, like white clouds in the air.
The night before Thanksgiving, Daniel was practicing classical guitar for class, when his cell rang. He was at the apartment in Boston that he shared with three other guys.
"Hi Daniel", a soft familiar voice said,"it's
me Bethany. I wanted to tell you how sorry
I am about your friend Adrien. I know I never met him, but I heard from your friends in Durham."
"Yeah, it was pretty bad. I'm still really stunned. It's hard to focus. I'm glad Thanksgiving is here. Mom and Nick are coming with Mom's boyfriend tomorrow. We're spending the holiday with my grandparents in Framingham. How about you? It's been a while. You OK?"
"Yeah - I mean - no, not really. I mean
I hate to complain when your friend just died and I don't know. I just called to see if you were OK and tell you how sorry I am?"
"I'm so glad you called, Bethany. I missed you. I still think about you a lot. Are you going home to Derry for Thanksgiving with your folks?"
"Well, I don't know. They are separated.
My dad left my mom and she's really messed up over it. I'm having a hard time going home. Mom and Dad are fighting a lot. Mom wants the house - the usual stuff. Of course she deserves it. Dad has a girlfriend.
That's why it's over. My sister Diana will be home, but I don't know."
"Do you want to come to my grandparents?" Daniel asked her without thinking it through.
"Well, I don't know. My mom is kind of having a nervous break down." He could hear her drawing on her cigarette and remembered he wanted one as well.
"My mom won't mind. My grandparents are a bit stuffy, but they are paying for my college tuition so Mom is pretty grateful and of course I am. They are Republicans, rich, won't want us sleeping together. Mom and Jim won't even be sleeping together I bet."
"Well yeah maybe. Could I drive to Boston tonight and go with you tomorrow?
"Yeah, but are you really up to driving tonight?"
"Yeah, I really want to see you."
"Then come. I'll call Mom and tell her."
"I'll see you when I get there, a couple hours I think. Maybe even less."
He gave her the address and exactly how to get there once she got to Boston. He knew the city well now, although he did not drive. He did take buses and taxis when he could afford them.
"I love you, Bethany. Drive careful. Don't speed, OK?"
"I love you, Daniel. Yes I'll be careful. I will see you soon. Can't wait."
Lizzy was totally OK with Bethany coming and was looking forward to meeting her. She called her parents to tell them that
Daniel's friend Bethany Golden was coming, and that they should prepare for one more if it was alright. Jack and Tara White were slightly put out, but that was how they were.
"How long has he known her?," her mother had asked.
"The more the merrier. We'll just make room for one more. We'd love to have her", was Jack's response, although he too had given the third degree. "Is she in college?
Where? Who are her parents? Where is she from?"
Jim, Lizzy and Nicolas piled in with Rusty
and all their suitcases making sure there was room in the trunk of Jim's Honda Accord for Daniel's guitar and Bethany's suitcase and his. The three kids could ride on the back seat. Lizzy felt almost euphoric that day.
The foliage was amazing, red, orange. The car would be crowded with Rusty as well but they would manage. They were a family.
Daniel and Bethany were standing outside bundled up in warm winter attire. It had begun to snow a little that day. The family got out.
"So nice to meet you, Bethany," Lizzy smiled warmly putting out her hand.
"This is my brother Nicolas and that's Jim", Daniel introduced everyone."
"Well let's get your stuff in the trunk." Jim was opening the trunk and Daniel put in his guitar and a backpack for each of them.
"Rusty," he gushed over the black lab. "And this is our dog, Rusty."
"Hi", said Bethany patting the dog's head as he wagged his tail and panted vigorously.
"Hi, how ya doin' Nicolas? I've heard a lot about you."
"Hi," said Nicolas shyly. He smiled though. He was pretty quiet around new people, but she talked to him a lot on the way about things Daniel had told her he had a passion for like video games, computers and science fiction as well as math, which was not her favorite subject, but she did have to take it, even though her major was Art.
It was around three in the afternoon by the time they pulled in to the driveway of the Whites' home. Jack and Tara came out to greet everyone. Rocky went running around the yard enthusiastically.
Tara gushed over Nicolas who she had not seen since last year and had grown about seven inches it seemed.
"Nice to meet you," Bethany said politely to both of them.
"We're so glad to have you. Come on Lizzy and Jim. So glad to finally meet you."
"Likewise," Jim smiled broadly.
"Let me help with some of your stuff," Jack insisted and they headed in.
The house smelled like Thanksgiving turkey and stuffing. There was a fire burning in the hearth.
"Can we get you a drink Jim? Lizzy? Kids?" Jack asked.
"Just ginger ale will be good," answered Lizzy.
"I'll take a beer if you've got any?", Jim said.
"How 'bout you Daniel and Bethany?"
Daniel looked at Bethany. "Just soda is fine," she said.
"I'll have a beer", Daniel decided. "I'll help you Grandpa." Daniel had been to his grandparents a lot since he had been in Boston. They had come to get him once in a while for weekends, so he knew the house well.
Finally dinner was served. They actually had a maid who served dinner. Her name was Elaina. Visiting them was almost the twilight zone compared with home.
Of course politics came up and Jack complained about the new president who
Lizzy had voted for, but Jim changed the subject remarking on the food.
The kids were all pretty quiet until Tara began to ask Bethany about college and she
began telling about how much she was enjoying Keene State.
After dinner, the three young people joined Rusty in the living room in front of the fire and drank hot chocolate, before walking him, and then went down to the basement to play pool.
Jack and Jim were having coffee in the living room, while Tara was showing her daughter where everyone would sleep. Lizzy and Jim would be in Lizzy's old room, the boys would be in the room with the twin beds and Bethany would have the guest room with the canopy bed and large wardrobe and bath.
Lizzy thought Bethany would love it, knowing Daniel might end up sleeping there too, but she knew the relationship was not her business. They were in college and adults in her opinion. After all Daniel had been through and Adrien's tragic heroic death. They were men now, not boys. She knew this.
"So Jim, I hear you own a bar. How's business?"
"Well ya know Jack, Lizzy and I are thinking of selling and buying a place that we could make a family restaurant. We're a bit burned out on the bar business. I know Lizzy is. She thinks we could maybe remodel her house into a bed and breakfast. I mean if we bought her house with the money from the bar."
"You should invest. I lost my shirt when Wall Street crashed, but you know stocks are cheap right now."
"Oh yeah, you mean Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac? I know people are buying those. I'm not really into stocks, Jack."
"Well, if you ever change your mind I am a wiz in the stock market. Just the damn Wall Street crash. And now with this new upcoming administration - "
"To be honest Jack, Lizzy and I voted for Obama. We would prefer to not talk politics, Sir, with all due respect. I find from running a bar, it tends to cause a lot of problems. Fist fights even."
Jack chuckled at that. "Alright, alright fair enough Jim. Care for a Cuban cigar?"
He held out one to Jim.
"Love one. Thanks. I don't usually smoke but I can't resist those."
Downstairs the kids were having a great time playing pool. Nicolas even laughed when Bethany messed up a shot.
"Are you tired?", asked Daniel. "Do you want to see where you're sleeping? We're sleeping," he whispered in her ear and she giggled slightly.
When Bethany saw the upstairs she marveled. She loved the room. "It's so beautiful," she said. Tara and Lizzy sat on the bed while Bethany looked around. Daniel and Nicolas were downstairs talking with Jim and their grandfather.
"This is the guest room, Bethany," Tara said. "Poor Lizzy was an only child."
"Really?" Bethany looked at Lizzy sympathetically. "What's that like, Ms White?"
"Just call me Lizzy, Bethany".
"OK Lizzy." Bethany lay back on the soft bed. As Lizzy and her mother talked and caught up on Adrien's funeral and Daniel's schooling and Nicolas's condition, the autism and his friend Sky and Dr. Epstein's evaluation, Bethany fell asleep. The two women put a blanket over her and took her shoes off and quietly slipped out and downstairs to join the rest of the family. "Sweet girl", remarked Lizzy's mother quietly as they eased the door shut turning off the light leaving on a soft lamp so she would not wake up disoriented in an unfamiliar house.
Lizzy would have Daniel bring her stuff up to her.
For the first time in a while, since before Adrien's death, Lizzy woke up feeling better.
She had been helping Norine get to meetings,
and even been helping Norine and Becky with some errands, like shopping and getting the kids to the doctor, even though Norine had a boyfriend who lived with them, and it seemed Becky had a few boyfriends.
It had made her feel useful again. Jim, Nicolas and she would be going to her parents' in Framingham for Thanksgiving.
They were picking Daniel up in Boston, where he was living, not on, but near the campus, with other students from Berkeley School of Music.
She had begun taking Sky home in the evening. It was a pretty lengthy trip up the mountains, and she did not think she would be able to get there when winter came full blast to Vermont. She expressed her concerns to Michael, Sky's father, who was a writer, and a fairly well known, successful one, but he had said that they could come down to meet her, in their four wheel drive jeep.
Sky's mother, Willow, was a sort of flower child, out of the sixties, even though she was about five years younger than Lizzy. She was an artist, who painted ethereal paintings of angels, celestial beings, wolves and goddesses, as well as suns, moons and stars, not to mention the sky, like her son's name. Lizzy was not crazy about this style of painting, but she did like the wolves, and had to admit that the woman had talent.
Last night she had gone back to work. Jim was surprised when she showed up. "Are you sure you are up to it?," he had asked.
She had smirked. "Yes Sir," she had smiled.
"What will it be Freddie?," she had asked a usual costumer, "scotch neat?"
"Yep, you know my number," he had said.
Jim smiled at her out of the corner of his eyes. "I'm glad you're back, Babe."
"I'll see you when you get home, Nick," she had said this morning. "One more day, and tomorrow we are off to Grandma and Grandpa's." She hugged Nick.
"I can't wait. Road trip," he said.
"Road trip. Love you." She kissed the top of his head, and he left for the school bus, backpack over his shoulders. He was getting so tall and handsome, she thought, more and more like his father every day, she thought.
After Nick was gone, she took her laptop and coffee to the living room, where the wood stove was burning, warming the room, and sat drinking it, reading The Huff, a liberal newspaper, online. Then she also payed some bills, that needed catching up on, such is the electric bill, before it got cut off, not to mention the water and land line, internet, cable bundle. After paying it all, there was about one-hundred dollars remaining in her bank account, which she checked online, as well, but November rent had been payed, so they would manage. She had a pay check coming now, since she was working at the 'Water Well.'
She went upstairs to her room, and brushed out her long hair, which she left down for a change, since it was clean and shiny from having been just washed, and put on some make-up, eyeliner, mascara and lipstick, threw on a white, fall cardigan and headed out to the truck.
She knocked timidly on Jill's front door.
It had only been a few weeks since Adrien's death. She felt it important to see Jill, since she had not gotten a chance to, at the funeral, Jill having already gone upstairs while Lizzy was at the wake. She carried a basket, which contained fresh bakery bread, cheese, grapes, a bottle of
merlot and a bag of fresh ground coffee beans.
Jill looked very put together in a new looking, light blue running suit and athletic shoes, her blond hair in a pony-tail. She looked sad, but smiled.
"Hi Lizzy, come in." She hugged Lizzy and gestured for her to come in.
"Here, I just wanted to bring you this," Lizzy handed her the basket. "We are going to have Thanksgiving in Framingham, and wanted to come by to see you. I didn't get to talk to you - ," she broke off.
They sat down on the couch. Lizzy reached for Jill's hand. They just sat quietly.
Jill was crying and reached for a kleenex from the coffee table. "It's just really hard right now. Tom is out back working on a project. He's building a new shed. It seems he always has to keep busy just to stay sane I guess."
"How are you holding up?," asked Lizzy.
"I know it must be hard."
Jill reached for Adrien's photograph in a frame, on the end table, in his uniform. She looked at his picture with tears in her eyes.
Lizzy started to cry too, but tried to hide it.
"I just can't believe it. It still seems like a dream. I got some anti-depressants, but the doctor says I just have to go through the grieving. I just miss him. We all do. Tom, Christen, me, Suzanne. How are Daniel and Nicolas? I know Adrien was so fond of Daniel." She started to really cry.
"They are good. Yes, Daniel really loved Adrien and so did I. I'm so sorry."
After a long catharsis, Jill said, "well I have some things I need to do." It seemed, she just needed to be alone, that it took all her strength, even to be around Lizzy. But, Lizzy understood completely.
"Is there anything I can help you with? We leave tomorrow evening, but I can help if you need anything. Can I clean the house or pick anything up?"
"Oh, no that's OK. You are such a dear, but we have had the military helping a lot. Other military families really have your back during these times. They have cooked, cleaned, done laundry, anything we need. That's just the way it is. In fact, I think some of them are coming over today, to help out. I'll call you when you come back. I think we are going to be pretty quiet this year. No fuss over Thanksgiving."
"Yes, I understand. How is Christen?" Lizzy and Jill walked to the door and embraced for a long time.
"She is upstairs in her room. She is not ready to go back to school. This has been incredibly difficult for her, losing her brother." Jill started to cry again. Lizzy hugged her.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Thank you, Lizzy. Thanks for coming to see me."
One more hug and Lizzy left. It was painful, but she felt better, after having gone to see Jill. It was just something that she needed to do, the right thing to do, and she wanted Jill to know that she was there for her, as helpless as she, Lizzy, felt.
As she was walking to her truck, an SUV pulled in, and one man in the driver's seat, and two women got out, army people she assumed.
The man waved to her, "how are you doing?" The two women were getting some cleaning supplies out of the back, and he was carrying some groceries.
"Good, it's great you all help like this," she said to them.
"That's part of our job," one of the women said to her.
"Have a good one," she called, reaching for her truck's door handle.
They called back something like, "you too," as she got in her truck.
She knew she did not understand, but at the same time, she did understand, which is why she too, had been so sad. Still, what Jill was going through, was beyond what Lizzy felt she, herself, could ever bare. She admired Jill's composure, strength and courage. She admired Jill's strong marriage to Tom, and their stoic natures, and she felt sorry for all the times she had ever envied anything about Jill, her marriage, her affluence, her ability to keep it together, her perfectionism, good housekeeping, charm, everything. She knew that she was Lizzy, and could never be like Jill, but she admired her in so many ways, more than she had ever been willing to admit or express. She hoped that someday Jill would heal from this, and although it was selfish, she thought, that she and Jill could be close friends again, as they had been in their youth. She wished most of all, that Adrien had never died, never gone to war, but she remembered the Serenity Prayer: God grant me the serenity to except the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Amen
As sad, and as bad and horrible, as things were, nothing could change them. They all had to have acceptance, and that was the only way to look at it now. It seemed like a Godless world to Lizzy, through all of this turmoil, but she knew that God was the only thing that would bring them through now. There was nothing else, but God.
She wondered why, in her agnostic views, and variations from her protestant, religious background, and rebellion against it, that she had not realized sooner, that there was a God, a God of her own understanding, Lizzy's God, a Higher Power, and that nothing, and no one else, could see them through. It was like a dark abyss, a dark tunnel, but there was a light, down, far into the other side. They were going to get through it, make it to the other side. They would survive, carry Adrien's beautiful legacy, and heroism, be proud to have been close to him, and someday, maybe they would all be together, she thought. For now, the living must keep living, for there is no other way, no other choice. She still had her own children, Nicolas to get through high school, and help to seek a bright future for, and Daniel to see through college, that she was so grateful to her parents for. She would cling to a Higher Power, to get through these shadowy times. They would stick together, and they would make the future brighter, day by day. Every day, she would seek to do a good deed for someone, somehow, she decided. This would give her life more meaning than ever, as well as her children had given her meaning all along. She would choose to be a lighthouse in the storm, lighting the way, rather than a mole that hides underground. She would keep her face towards the light, always, for every one's sake. That is what she decided, pulling her truck into the driveway of her home, that November afternoon, before Thanksgiving. She was thankful and grateful, even with all that had come to pass, as hard as it was for everyone. As hard as it was for everyone, she would be grateful, and she would be cheerful, put one foot in front of the other, baby steps. No, she would grow up, grow up with her children, but really grow up, and be the adult she needed to be, all along, not just for herself, but for every one's sake.
The last few weeks had been a blur to
Lizzy. Jim had given her some time off from the 'Water Hole'. She was deeply depressed, and drinking a lot, or at least the waking hours she could remember.
Mostly, they ordered out for pizza. Charlie, who also worked in the food and beverage industry, Senior Frog's in Burlington, had even come by with some food from work, fries, chicken wings, spare ribs and deserts, as well.
Daniel had gone back to Berkeley School of Music in Boston. It was just herself and Nicolas. Nicolas had one friend from school now, who was a bit like him, and who had a lot in common with him. His name was Sky. His parents were hippies, and lived up out in the boonies. Sky was quiet like Nick, and he
was very intelligent and did well in school, as well. They would come home on the bus together, and his mother or father would pick him up in the evening, and sometimes Nick would go to their house in the country, and they would bring him home. Lizzy was in rough shape, and not driving anywhere. She wanted to pull herself together and get a grip, just did not know how.
Finally, a week before Thanksgiving, she decided to go to an AA meeting in Vershire
Center. She was not really a true alcoholic, but she had needed some alcohol support in the past, nonetheless, because it was helpful in times of stress, when she felt she could not afford a therapist, and drank a bit too much, although she was uncomfortable calling herself an alcoholic, since usually drinking was not a problem. She had been there in the past, but it had been a long time. She knew some of the people, but had been out of touch.
As she slowly and carefully drove to Vershire Center, she was glad to have fairly new snow tires, thanks to Jim, as it had snowed recently, now that it was November, and there was a stinging chill in the air, and there had been a few light snow flurries, including tonight, but subtle.
Taking off her warm winter, corduroy, fur lined serpa jacket, she slunk into the meeting late. She had had a few drinks that day, but not too much to impair her driving at all, and it had been hours earlier. Throwing off her jacket, and hanging it on the back of a chair, she sat in the back, in her worn out jeans and gray work shirt, winter work boots, hair back in a low pony tail with its usual stray strands, hoping not to be noticed or to have to say hello. When the introductions came, she barely, audibly uttered her name and title, "I'm Lizzy, alcoholic."
Everything said, was unidentifiable, but also familiar. After the meeting, a young woman in her thirties, with wild dark hair, came up to her. "I'm Norine", she held out her hand to Lizzy. "Are you a new comer?
You didn't say anything. Do you want my number?"
"I know the protocol," said Lizzy. "I am not new." Her voice was bristly and unfriendly, and she felt somewhat guilty for that, but she partly did not care. This girl was annoying anyway.
"I have six months," Norine beamed showing her yellow chip. "I have never been happier."
'Yeah good for you. I'm sure your son's best friend didn't just die in the war either,' she thought bitterly, hating the positive attitude of this young woman, but feeling guilty for feeling this way, so bitter.
"I hope you don't mind, but there's no other women here tonight. I'm supposed to stick with the women. Actually, there's almost never any women here. Not at this group, maybe in Burlington. Do you think you could take me home? I hate asking, but I'm legally blind. My boyfriend dropped me off."
Suddenly Lizzy was out of her self-pity and seeing Norine for the first time. "What's wrong with your eyes?," she asked bluntly.
"I have this thing called R.O.P. from being a premature birth. It's hard to explain."
"No need," said Lizzy. "My older son has RP, retinitis pigmentosa."
"Oh yeah, I know what that is," Norine nodded seriously.
"Yes, I'm sorry. I can drive you. Where do you live, Norine?" She wondered if Norine smelled alcohol, faintly on her, although she had sobered up hours ago.
"6800 Vershire Rd.," Norine said, "it is for
sale, but my kids and I are living there, with my sister and her kids."
"You have kids?," Lizzy asked rhetorically, but suddenly interested, and wanting to show that, sincerely.
Some of the men stopped and said hello to Lizzy. "Keep comin' back," old timer John said.
She gave him a little hug. "Sure." Suddenly Lizzy was smiling, but not knowing why. Maybe she just needed to do service, and get out of self, as they say. Her heart had been so closed, and cold, and empty, as of late.
Norine talked endlessly, and cheerfully, in the Chevy truck. She also smoked out the window, which Lizzy did not object to.
Norine was thirty-five, ten years younger than Lizzy, and from Lizzy's estimation, a million times more beautiful, but it sounded like Norine and her twin sister, also blind, or legally blind, did not have it so easy. Each of them had three children. They were living in a big house that was for sale, which would put them on the street eventually, or they could go back to living with an abusive, alcoholic father. Norine's husband was an abusive alcoholic from South Carolina, which was why Lizzy had detected the southern accent, and he could actually come and kill her, if he knew where she was. She lived in fear. Her sister's husband was in prison at least, also abusive and incorrigible, but at least Norine's sister's husband was locked up, and therefore less a threat. This all sounded like drama to the average person, but Lizzy had been around enough to know how common these things were, even though to someone outside their world, it sounded like the Jerry Springer Show. For a lot of working class America, life was the Jerry Springer Show. Perhaps, it was the times, addiction, single parenthood, poverty, war, hunger, and who knows?
Norine asked if Lizzy wanted to come in, when they got to the big farmhouse. For some reason, Lizzy agreed to come inside. She noticed, from being Daniel's mother, Norine's visual impairment, especially in the dark, and so she took her arm tentatively, not sure if Norine wanted help. Norine welcomed Lizzy's assistance. Norine's twin sister, Becky, was sitting on the front step, playing with a puppy, with her youngest boy, just a toddler, who was clad in a fuzzy wool sweater, sweat pants, and fuzzy slippers. There was a light snow on the ground.
"This is Becky, my sister, and her boy, Christopher. Becky, this is Lizzy."
"Hey", drawled Becky, drawing a toke on her cigarette, lazily. "It's cold out here." She then rubbed her thinly jacketed shoulders, once her cigarette burned in an ashtray.
Just then two little girls came out, barefoot and straggly. "These are my youngest two, Ally and Jamie," Norine said to Lizzy. The girls were dressed in thrift shop attire, warm sweaters and jeans, but their little feet were bare, from being in the house. The girls greeted Lizzy, and she said hello to them, but the girls were too excited about the puppy, to notice much more.
"I see you got a puppy," remarked Lizzy.
"Yeah, I promised the kids one, with all they been through and all, ya know?," answered Norine.
Lizzy nodded, with a smile.
They went inside. The house was messy but not dirty, and three more school age children were watching TV. There was a wood stove burning, to keep the place warm.
"This is my son, John, the oldest, and the two other boys are Becky's, Ricky and Randy. They are twins,
too. It runs in the family.
The boys were dressed in thrift shop attire, as well, although warmly, in sweatshirts and jeans. They mumbled, "hey," and went back to their television show, without getting up.
Norine was slipping out of her snow boots as they entered, and several jackets and pairs of boots hung, or lay in the corner, as they entered.
"Do you want me to take my boots off?," Lizzy asked, politely.
"No, that's okay. You can leave 'em on. We just automatically take them off."
"Yeah, we do pretty much the same," Lizzy responded. She decided to keep them on.
Norine insisted on making coffee, as she and Lizzy took their jackets off. Lizzy hung hers on the back of a kitchen chair. Norine was so friendly, she thought. "Don't you guys find it hard living out here with no transportation?," asked Lizzy.
"No, my boyfriend, Davis, helps out. Remember, he dropped me off. He works nights. He stays here too. He's a big help."
"You seem sad," Norine said, pouring the coffee. The kids were in and out of the kitchen, looking for snacks. "Go in the living room. I'll bring y'all something in a minute," she said, with a drawl.
"Oh it's just - just something - ," Lizzy trailed off, not really wanting to talk about Adrien's death, at least not to someone she just met. Norine did not pry.
Lizzy left her phone number, just in case Norine wanted a ride, but she made it clear that she was not baby-sitting, just for the record, because she was through with small kids, and Norine seemed totally understanding of that. It was Becky, who seemed a little odd, not that friendly, aloof, but it was no big thing.
Lizzy thought about Norine and her hardships, as she drove the next seven miles, to her own house, where Nicolas and Sky would be playing video games upstairs, or playing a board game, or playing with Rusty, perhaps. She looked forward to going home,
with a refreshing relief, a haven, going home.
The day of Adrien's military funeral, was
surreal. Adrien's parents sat in front, with his sister, Christen. The American flag was draped over the casket. Adrien had died in active duty, trying to save Iraqi civilians and his fellow privates, when a bomb had exploded in Bhagdad. Only one soldier had survived with injuries, and two of five civilians. The U.S. Military had come to Vermont to give the funeral.
Lizzy and her sons were farther back. Jim had brought them. She had been too shaky to drive. She spotted Adrien's girlfriend, Suzanne, crying in a navy blue dress and coat, across the isle. Had she been closer, Lizzy would have consoled her, or at least tried to, but Suzanne's friends were around her, holding her hand, and whispering in her ear, soft words of assurance. Lizzy would wait until the wake, to then give Adrien's parents and sister her condolences, although she had sent them a card and called Jill, prior to the funeral, of course.
The American flag was presented to Jill Peterson, Adrien's mother. The seven men, firing rifles, shot three times in the air, in a twenty-one shot salute.
That was after the Presbyterian minister had given a sermon, in which he recited the Twenty-third Psalm. "The Lord is my Shepard, I shall not want...He leadeth me to lie down in green pastors, and ye though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for the Lord is thy rod and thy staff..." He succeeded with a beautiful sermon about soldiers and serving one's country.
Some of the soldiers present, who had known Adrien, spoke about him, and there was a huge picture of him in full uniform, strewn with flowers. Daniel had thought about asking to say something, but had felt too overwhelmed, and thought it might not be appropriate, at a military funeral. Lizzy noticed that Daniel wiped his eyes several times, to cover up the tears, which kept coming. Jim squeezed Lizzy's hand, noticing her notice Daniel. Amazing Grace was played on the bagpipe, after which a lady sang Precious Lord, Take My Hand, by Tommy Dorsey, which she sang without accompaniment.
As previously planned, Daniel was to come forward, as he did, and played on his guitar, which was already set up, and amplified, an acoustic version of Adrien's favorite song, Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd, and sang it very sweetly as well. It was very beautiful, although slightly unconventional. Daniel was very inventive, in his musical arrangements, and he sang beautifully as well. Many people were crying, especially Adrien's mother, Jill. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. Her husband, Tom, held her hand, and looked solemn and stoic. They so wished Adrien were there, so very much. Missing him was agony for everyone who loved him. Christen cried much, as well as Suzanne, still comforted by her friends.
Then he accompanied a girl named Tammy, who had been a friend of Adrien's and Suzanne's, on The Promise, by Tracey Chapman, a favorite of Adrien's and Suzanne's, both, although it made Suzanne cry all the more. Others cried as well, including Lizzy. Afterwards, he sat back down, where his family was seated, and where he had been previously seated.
There were more words, The Lord's Prayer, and finally the last words, "ashes to ashes, dust to dust...", said by the minister.
It was cold. Lizzy had worn a long, black wool cardigan over her black dress, and a navy blue alpaca scarf about her throat. She had put her hair in a low bun, rather than her usual ponytail, in order to look more severe and formal. The boys were wearing black suits, which they had purchased with Lizzy and Jim, for the funeral, as well as their light, dress overcoats, which were saved for special occasions in the fall and spring.
It was now November fifth, and Barack Obama had won the election. Lizzy had voted for him, and he would be inaugurated in January. She was angry at the current administration, for what had happened to Adrien. He was a hero, but only eighteen years old, like Daniel. He was too young to drink alcohol, but not too young to die a hero. How ironic it was, she thought.
She knew that Tom and Jill Peterson were Republicans, but they were so distraught that politics mattered insignificantly. What did it matter who was president when your son just died? It was a war that was based on a lie, and yet we had to pretend and be strong. Why? Why did Adrien go to the army? Even Daniel, who had been supportive, thought that, with his good grades in high school, that Adrien would have chosen college, but the Petersons were a military family, and it was just in their making, but Lizzy could not help, but feel that Adrien had felt as much without options, as her own sons, even with his parents still together. Tom was a very controlling husband and father. He had been a peace time general, who had gotten an early medical retirement, due to a serious leg injury. Lizzy and Jill had drifted apart since school, because perhaps, Lizzy had envied the fact that Jill did not work, but stayed home, and did pretty much what she wanted, but maybe not, and Lizzy was filled with shame, for ever feeling anything like this towards Jill, who was suddenly so tragic.
After the funeral procession, Jim, Lizzy and the boys all took turns, laying down a rose, upon Adrien's coffin, before it was lowered into the ground. They stood solemnly, around Adrien's grave, as the dark clouds loomed in the sky, as if to say something, but what? Jill Peterson held on to her husband, Tom, as if for support, as if she would fall, if not for his strength. Their daughter, Christen and Adrien's girlfriend, Suzanne, stood near them, tearfully.
The Whites and Lizzy's boyfriend, Jim, also brought a huge bouquet of roses, to the Peterson home, that afternoon. The sky had grown gray. The days were ending early now. A light rain had begun, near the end of Adrien's funeral, like some ominous sign. Daniel felt as if his heart would break. Nicolas had trouble showing emotion, but he was very pensive.
Much drinking was going on at the Petersons' that day. Jim did not know that Lizzy was having a drinking problem, since Adrien's death, but she was not going to be able to hide it for long, and she dreaded this. Jim drank, himself, but it had never been an issue. It was not usually an issue for Lizzy either, but lately she had been out of sorts, confused, and deeply depressed. Even Jim, could not fully comfort her, during this time.
She just kept feeling like, it could have been Daniel, and why Adrien? She thought of all the years that Adrien and Daniel had been best friends, and how Adrien had spent so much time in their home, since he was just a toddler, and Daniel had spent so much time at Adrien's. She thought of all the plans, that Daniel and Adrien once dreamed about, like traveling through Europe, Asia and maybe even someday, South America. She never thought Adrien would have ended up in Iraq. His decision had come so suddenly, but perhaps Tom, Adrien's father had influenced him, and must regret it somehow, now. She wondered, but would never know, and hoped that he did not feel responsible, but proud. He certainly had reason to be proud of Adrien, a real hero!
At the wake, Suzanne and Christen, Adrien's sister, had their arms around one another. Both were crying. Tom greeted them with a drink in his hand. As a retired general, he was in uniform. "Come in. Jill is resting upstairs."
There were many armed service men there, as well as some women, and the living room and dining room foyer were crowded. Daniel and Nicolas were feeling shy, their eyes slightly downcast. "Thank you guys so much for coming," Tom said to the boys, warmly touching their shoulders in a squeeze.
"I am really sorry," Daniel said. His eyes were becoming teary.
"Come on guys. Come get some food," Tom replied.
No one had noticed, but after hugging the two girls, Lizzy had headed for the drinks, and was already drinking a glass of white wine. Jim saw her but did not say anything, just came over, and put his arm protectively around her. He was not going to judge her, whether she was having a problem with alcohol or not. He could not. He loved her.
She thought of Jill, who never made an appearance, while they were there, and thought of going up to check on her, but she did not want to cross any boundaries. Perhaps, being alone was best for Jill, and her only way of dealing with Adrien's dying, right now. Lizzy vowed to herself that she would visit Jill when things calmed down, if they ever calmed down. She did not see how.
Tom seemed to be drinking a lot, but was conducting himself in a stoic, military manner. He stepped outside for a few minutes at one point, but soon was back inside, talking with everyone.
Daniel and Nicolas solemnly ate small sandwiches and chicken wings from paper plates, and drank soda from paper cups. They ate in silence. The military had sent a crew to help around the house, with cooking, and bringing food, cleaning and setting up for the wake, as well as arranging the entire funeral. They were very good about supporting military families, and such was the protocol, whether a soldier was wounded or in Adrien's case, deceased.
Finally, the boys, Lizzy and Jim said goodbye to Tom, as well as Christen and Suzanne, telling Tom to "please give Jill our love." They gathered their coats from the downstairs guestroom, and went home slowly driving in the cold, dismal rainy evening, that was growing dark, and the rain was turning to tiny snow flakes, which fell on the windshield, slowly wiped away. No one talked, but Jim reached for Lizzy's hand now and then. He saw that she was crying.
Daniel and Nicolas were silent. Daniel cried, as they drove. He thought about Bethany, and wondered if he should call her, wondered if the guys in Durham had told her. He was not ready to talk to anyone. He would be heading back to Berkeley School of Music soon, in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
He thought he would stay a little longer, because Mom seemed stressed and sad. He felt he should stay and help out with Nicolas for a few days, at least. She just was not herself right now, not her usual strong, upbeat self. She might need him around for a few days.
other life within the realms of lives. People follow Bon Jovi like The Grateful Dead. I have met such a person where a certain unique man from my past was working near our apartment where we were living. I had my own place, but I lived with him part of the time across town, took taxis back and forth.
