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View Full Version : Think Before You Speak, Suffer Before You Rise



Jon
05-29-2007, 10:41 PM
As I “shopped”, (if that’s what you want to call it) for Lassie’s casket, (yes I bought a casket for my dog. I am far from rich but I think more of this dog than I do the vast majority of people, including myself.) It seemed so dastardly a deed. I felt as if I was giving up on a great friend. I drove 120 miles, spent two hours and $150.00 I didn’t really have on his casket. It was very odd. I have always enjoyed shopping but on this shopping trip I felt as if I had on lead shoes and was pulling a small house behind me. I also had trouble breathing as it felt like a Mack truck was parked on my chest. At the site of each casket I teared up a bit and the Fool in me wondered, at each casket which one he would be most comfortable in. The Rational me kept repeating “It doesn’t matter now Jon.” The Child in me kicked and screamed “Is he really dead?” “I don’t believe you!”

I found this shopping SO distasteful! My stomach was sour, my legs were like rubber, my hands were shaking, my throat was sore and scratchy, and my mouth had a bitter taste and was very dry. My eyes, in contrast were far from dry. My tears, those that slipped through my put on “I’m-a-man-and-men-don’t-cry-over-pets” face, stung badly as they passed my eyelids.

I narrowed down my “choice” (as if I wanted to chose) of caskets for this repulsive task to two. The Fool in me wanted a casket which would preserve his body the longest, the Rational me pointed out that my friend’s body WOULD decay no matter what I chose. The Child in me, now on the floor, kicking, screaming and crying, cursed the rest of me for lying about Lassie being dead. The Fool in me and the Rational me chose a beautiful casket while the Child in me lay sobbing loudly on the floor.

The Fool in me suggested to the Rational me that I design and make Lassie grave marker, the Rational me agreed, the Child in me only uttered mournful lamentations as the Fool in me and the Rational me carried the inconsolable Child in me to the car for a trip to the hardware store.

The Fool in me and the Rational me collaborated on a design to begin with a traditional cross as the Child in me began to question God. We arrived at the hardware store.

The Rational me said, in said in his typical pragmatic voice “It should stand up to the weather.” The Rational me lead the fool in me with a blubbering Child in me close behind to the section of treated lumber. The Rational me pick up a four foot board and began to inspect the board. The Child in me began to wonder if I could fit into the casket with my friend of 17 years. The Child in me wanted to die; the Child in me DID die in part. The Rational me was inspecting each four foot board for the best one. You must understand, in despite his pragmatic ways, the Rational me was hurting badly too. But he knew he had to be strong. Getting the very best board was the Rational me’s own way of contributing and mourning. There would be no warped cross for my friend! But the Fool in me wanted more. The Fool in me interrupted the Rational me’s loving inspection for the perfect board, and lead all three, the sobbing Child in me, the strong, silent Rational me to the twenty foot boards. The Rational me knew exactly how the Fool in me felt. Hell, the Rational me would have erected a neon billboard had it been practical. But with love, the Rational me pointed out the difficulty in getting a twenty foot board home in a 2003 Ford Taurus. The Fool in me and the Rational me struck a compromise as the Child in me continued his wailing. A twelve foot board should be safe enough to get home and the Fool in me agreed that it would end up being a tall cross as compared to other pet’s grave markers. This is only fitting as Lassie was a friend rather than a pet and he was head and shoulder above the rest in the canine world.

But remember, the Fool in me wants more. The cross should be mostly black a bit of white, just like Lassie. The Rational me acquiesced. The Child in me paused in his very vocal grieving just long enough for a much needed deep breath, then continues his wailing. The Fool in me proposes that I affix a decorative wood block to the end of each arm of the cross. (The Fool in me always wants more.) The Fool in me and the Rational me, with sobbing Child in tow work my way, with heavy hearts, to the Crown Moulding section of the store. In this section I find two wooden blocks with an engraved flower. Satisfied, the Rational me and the Fool in me begin to lead the Child in me to the paint section. The Child in me will not budge. The Child in me remains in front of the decorative wooden blocks in the Crown Moulding section. The Child in me struggles to control his compulsive bawling as he has something important to say. Between restrained sobs and hitching shoulders the Child in me says “the top, the top of the cross should not be nondescript nor bare.” Happy to see this pause in the mourning, Rational me asks “What should go on top then?” The Child in me points to a particular decorative block and says “a star.” After a quick, light sob the Child in me continues his words “Lassie was my star but now he has gone to the heavens to be with all the other stars.” With that the Fool in me picks up the decorative block with the star, a can of black paint, a can of white paint, a can of polyurethane and a few brushes and nails.

Rational me pays for items. Part of him is happy to the $60.00 for the memorial supplies; part of him feels like he has given up on a good friend. Rational me does not let this show.

The three of me carry the memorial supplies to the car, two in silence and the Child in me has resumed his vocal mourning. The three of me march though a few inches of snow and a swamp of guilt, pain and grief.

Later, on a tiny stretch of road called Stick City road, the faint sounds of shoveled earth can be heard mixed with a few muffled sobs.

That night, after I cleaned the mud and snow from me and warmed up a bit, the Fool in me and the Child in me curl up in bed together and begin to bemoan their loss. The Rational me covers them with a blanket and tells them to think of the seventeen good years I had with Lassie. The Child in me and the Fool in me cry their way to their appointment with the sandman. Rational me turns out their light, goes to the refrigerator for a bottle and sits in the dark. Rational me begins to cry silent tears laces with Jim Beam. Rational me croaks “Goodbye my friend, and thank you.”







http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a58/jonbug/100_3142.jpg



http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a58/jonbug/100_3140.jpg

Frunobulax
05-30-2007, 06:40 PM
Jon, I am still sorry for your loss--I can only imagine how much Lassie meant to you. But know that he's in a better place now.

Daghain
05-30-2007, 07:14 PM
:cry: :cry: :cry:

I'm so sorry for your loss. That was a beautiful tribute to your friend.

Jon
05-30-2007, 09:04 PM
I have yet to remove his pic as wallpaper on my phone and comp.

Daghain
05-30-2007, 09:18 PM
And why should you? You will, IF and WHEN you're ready. You had him for 17 years? I don't think you're going to erase him in a day. Geez, I've had my bird for 13, and when she's gone I'm sure I'll be in the same state you're in. You get so used to having them around it's a real shock when they're gone. They truly are family.

And if anyone says to you, "It's just a dog." You have my permission to beat the crap out of them. WTF do they know? In many ways, pets are better than people.:grouphug:

Jon
05-30-2007, 09:27 PM
And why should you? You will, IF and WHEN you're ready. You had him for 17 years? I don't think you're going to erase him in a day. Geez, I've had my bird for 13, and when she's gone I'm sure I'll be in the same state you're in. You get so used to having them around it's a real shock when they're gone. They truly are family.

And if anyone says to you, "It's just a dog." You have my permission to beat the crap out of them. WTF do they know? In many ways, pets are better than people.:grouphug:


Yes...one person did say that...I replied that I like my dog more than most people, including me!

Daghain
05-30-2007, 09:43 PM
Yeah, people like that have no idea. It's never "just a dog", "just a cat", "just a bird". They're family. How would they like it if you said, "It's just a kid, you can make another one just like him?"

Idiots.

Jean
05-30-2007, 09:55 PM
but that's what people say all the time. About kids, too. Ask Liz. Like, "It wasn't even yours", or similar shit.

Jon, you don't only have my permission to beat the crap out of them, as Daghain put it, but my special instruction to do so.

Frunobulax
05-30-2007, 10:33 PM
Add in my permission, too, Jon.
Now you can say a Reverend gave you the thumbs up to beat the shit out of them.

Matt
05-31-2007, 02:28 PM
**signs the ass kicking petition**

Frunobulax
05-31-2007, 02:44 PM
I think we need one or two more signatures before we can have it passed as a local law.

Jon
05-31-2007, 08:05 PM
But he is the hubby of a good friend...we will need her sig too!

Jon
10-26-2007, 11:54 PM
I am not sure why I wrote this essay. Maybe I was venting or just felt a need to write. Please excuse the dark nature. But if you have read my works you are likely to expect the dark side of a given issue. Maybe I will develop Eddie into a character and form a story around him. Maybe I'll just let this essay stand alone and look back upon it to see if I have improved. As the essay states, there is more of Eddie in me than I care to admit.




EDDIE




A weary man sits in the shade of an old, rotting maple tree. This tree has rotten boards nailed to it up one side to serve as a ladder for long grown children to climb into a long rotted tree house. The man, Eddie, has no sentimental feeling toward this tree it is only an island of shade in a sultry, baking sea of Kentucky bluegrass that is drying to a shade of yellow-brown
This man ponders not the meaning of life or some complex Algebraic equation. He ponders simple things. These things he ponders most take for granted. This man ponders the route he should take to the doctor’s office. He tosses the pros and cons of a given route in his unsure mind like a skilled juggler. In fact, in this regard, this man is a skilled juggler. For many years this man has had great difficulty making the simplest decisions. He has to call his wife on her cell phone and ask how much gas to put in his car as he fears over straining their precariously balanced budget. This man we know as Eddie will call his wife on his way to work to ask permission to run the air conditioner as a car will use more fuel with the air conditioner running.
You must understand his wife is no scrooge with the money. She finds it funny that he calls to ask to run the air conditioner on a hot day. She finds it funny as in odd, and rather sad, that this once self confident man cannot even make the simplest decisions. This man is slowly crumbling and he can see it. He can see it, but do nothing about it. It saddens him deeply as he knows his wife and child see it too. He fears that he will be seen as too weak to be a good example of a man for his son. He fears he will one day no longer be able to provide for them. Eddie does not feel sorry for himself, he no longer has that capacity. Eddie has acquiesced to such a life and sees no end. Eddie will sometimes, during the day when he is home alone, turn off the heat and shiver, as he feels unworthy of basic human needs. Eddie does not fear a comet will smash into the Earth setting off the extinction of humans. He is a bit of a realist. Eddie fear rejection from all. He fears rejection from his loyal pets. As a matter of fact, Eddie has already rejected himself. When Eddie takes a picture of a "beautiful" landscape, he fears his sense of "beautiful" is skewed. When Eddie fears, he fears for his family.When Eddie weeps, he weeps for his family. He fears. He weeps.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------


Eddie is a part of me. More of a part than I care to admit. I suspect there is an Eddie in everyone just not to this extreme.
Eddie does not feel sorry for himself. He has lost that capacity. Eddie has simply become a bad day.
Eddie came from that bad day when the car had a flat tire and you were late for work. Eddie came from that day you were so tired from work you had to go to bed and could not be with your family. Eddie came from that same night when, an exhausted you simply could not sleep but had to be content to lie there and wonder what could have been. Eddie came from a simple matter of a vending machine that precariously balances you favorite snack but never dispenses the product.


http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a58/jonbug/lonlyman.jpg

alinda
10-27-2007, 06:22 AM
:innocent: Jon, you are a wonder, I do love you, thankyou for sharing yourself so completely with us.Your insight serves you .Your light is shining on us as well, and the illumination is more truthful than we care to admit my friend, and yet it is a gift to see. :couple: Thanks .

Jon
10-28-2007, 06:39 PM
:innocent: Jon, you are a wonder, I do love you, thankyou for sharing yourself so completely with us.Your insight serves you .Your light is shining on us as well, and the illumination is more truthful than we care to admit my friend, and yet it is a gift to see. :couple: Thanks .

Thank you Linda.

When I write a story I always write a short bio for the main characters so as to ensure my writing is consistent with how such a person acts or reacts.

I began to write Eddie's bio and it just kept going...then I saw me!

Jean
08-13-2008, 10:04 PM
bump

something new to post?

::eagerly waiting::

Jon
08-13-2008, 10:13 PM
I never was one for writing much of anything except poems or riddles. But I am on vacation as of the sixteenth. As I have no money to go anywhere, maybe I'll take a break from reading and write something with substance. Too many of my poems as of late have struck me as hollow and my riddles have not been up to snuff either. Just sit tight sir...and thank you for noticing.

cozener
08-15-2008, 01:03 PM
I very much enjoyed and was touched by these two pieces and they both go a long way toward reinforcing my belief that the best writing comes from writing about what you know and from your own heart. I consider myself lucky to have come across these.

And yeah...I'm Eddie too.

The Lady of Shadows
08-15-2008, 03:41 PM
jon, your tribute to lassie brought me to tears. i am so sorry for your loss, though i know it was over a year ago, and hope that the three "yous" were able to work something out as the days passed (as you did in the hardware store).

:rose:

Jon
08-15-2008, 11:25 PM
Thank you folks.

It really means a lot to me when some posts about one of my poems, riddles or stories. even if that post is a critique. As of late I have held off posting some poetry as I felt very few were reading them. Not to belittle those two members, but...it's disheartining.

Brice
08-15-2008, 11:28 PM
Jon, I'm not so good at critical analysis or anything like that, but I read them all and enjoy them. :)

The Lady of Shadows
08-15-2008, 11:34 PM
even if no one posts, that doesn't mean no one is reading. jean reads all of my posts in my poetry thread (he told me so) but he rarely posts. and i know you read them and you post. we're reading. it's just sometimes maybe we don't want to say anything because maybe one person doesn't want to feel stupid, or another doesn't want to break the spell, or another doesn't know how to articulate what they are feeling.

but we are always reading. :rose:

Jon
08-16-2008, 02:09 AM
I see. I understand. I suspected as much.

But it is difficult to shake that "alone" feeling.

The Lady of Shadows
08-16-2008, 02:16 AM
i know. believe me, i know.

gsvec
08-19-2008, 08:42 AM
but we are always reading. :rose:

Yes, we are. Always. :D

cozener
08-19-2008, 05:10 PM
Y'know, I never would have noticed this if it weren't for Jean bumping it. Its a good thing he did because I would have missed out. And I don't generally comment on peoples' works. Bad habit of mine really. It isn't that there aren't things on this board and elsewhere that are beneath my critiquing them but sometimes I see something that spurs enough feeling in me that I must say something.

I wanted to add this. One thing that got through to me about what you wrote about Lassie was your description of your psyche as a mental trinity...the Rational, the Fool, and the Child. I thought it was a very apt description of how we compartmentalize our personalities and how that compartmentalization can help us to cope. To me, its especially important that the fine line between fool and child be recognized. I think all too often people overlook the differences between the two and count them as one. But they aren't one and you highlighted the differences very well.

Eddie...I sympathized with...pure and simple. We share some of the same fears, he and I. I think you're right. Eddie is a part of us all...especially those of us that are depended upon and looked up to, expected to set an example. Some might look at a person that is a spouse, parent, and provider or a teacher, mentor, and an example of what others should strive to be and admire them for being an adult...for doing what they're supposed to be doing...not ever suspecting just how afraid and fragile that person really is.

Jon
08-19-2008, 08:23 PM
Thank you Cozner. Your last sentence is a GREAT synopsis of that prose. When I was a child, I thought most all adults were perfect rocks. Solid, no fear, no mistakes. As I grew and began to see their flaws I was greatly disillusioned. Even today, as I near 40, I see folken on a given message board and assume they are superior to me if they display any proficiency in any manner. I thought our dear Jean to be the God of Gods until I angered him one day a couple of years ago (I had it coming, I was being an ass, I do not hide that fact.) Up until that point I had thought him superior to me in every way and infallible. He taught me Algebra! When he displayed his anger I thought my computer would just explode in my face. That's how powerful and superior I though him. But he and I talked in private and I was stunned to find he was hurt, as well as angry. I still, to this day, think of Jean, and many others, as superior to me. It is an unfair and impossible position that I place folks like Jean in but... it's just the way I was raised.

Now I see others putting ME (of all people) in that position.

Jon
09-26-2015, 09:52 AM
I didn't have these feeling when Misty passed. Why?

Willie is about 14 now...it is coming.