about face…




about face…

Originally uploaded by jayfherron.

This is going to be difficult to try to explain-mental illness is hard enough to understand more less try to explain it….so give me a break as I try!
The recording artists ‘The Moody Blues’ sang “…is’nt life strange” and as they sung the word strange the echo effect came into place. Thety probrebly did’nt really realize that effect and how it comes out to some-I think they just did it as show….theres no way I reproduce it here,so just do it yourself and say ‘isnt life strange’ and as you say ‘strange’ just echo the word.
How else I’m going to explain whats in my head today is not going to be as easy as that.
But I ask a question…is it the life thats strange or the people we run across in and out of life that makes it strange? My hermit values are beginning to look more appealing all the time.
I had no idea a few weeks ago now that I would be undressing my friend Grier….but yet,there I am in the VA hospital pulling this guys clothes off and helping him into one of those gowns.
The whole-incredible to me….never dreamed in my wildest moments that event would take place. It has some kind of significance that way…a curious way that I’m not sure I fully grasp it what it means (I’m sure many call it karma) but I know one thing-I’m looking for a lesson in everything that happens.
Like Rose…or Theresa,or Bertha or Mary Beth…or what ever her name really is. Why was a guy like me doing my own thing a thousand miles away from home ( almost always) and then ‘boom’…the whole life on the road is over and the weeks and months to follow become a surealistic nightmare of events….this woman befriends me-treats me nice,and then turns out to be a criminal-a murderer…and its come to my place in her life to point the finger and say there she is.
And I still feel guilty about it…and she killed a guy-point blank,cold blood. And I feel guilt.
But yet….the lessons and they did to me and for me and how my life adjusted in some ways because of this incident that clearly had to be orchastrated by something more powerful than any man has ever been.
Grier…he was my friend,but there was so much about him that you just wanted to stop answering the phone because of not wanting to get involved in one of his projects because he lost his patience and his temper too quickly and really mad an ass sometimes when being one was’nt so needed . But yet-I swear…as hard as I’d fight it I’d end up up being involved and he always so generous. I never thought this mans death was going to be such a draw on me….but yet I didnt see any of his other friends coming in to check on him or shove me out of the way to pull off his pants and help him into a gown-but by God they’ve casting lots about whats left behind…some beginning before anything was left behind.
I saw this once before. A family near here it is surmised they were washed out into the Gulf-a father and a mother and a toddeler,lost at sea. It took about a week to figure out they were missing but soon enough the auto abandoned in a parking lot drew attention and then it became clear these three were gone. One of the neighbors-since this is so rural many of us have called one another friends….one of the friends moved right into this families home and cleared out thier possesions and moved his in and so he lived there for sevreral years rent free-indeed,they are gone….but my gosh-wait more than a week.I saw that same fellow in the VA,he works there as a mortuary tech (he cleans the death rooms) and he made a joke right there in the hall about our friend Grier-a sick joke,one that made me want to punch him. But-to punch a VA employee would get me into thousands of tons of trouble…but him I wanted to lunge into him and ask why he cannot remember how many times HE had mooched from Grier.
I know this is most likely boring you to tears and it should because its more less me trying to say this out of my body to try to purge the way I feel. I’m going to Griers funeral today and it will be interesting to see of the gathering who of his ‘friends’ might be there.
I believe Grier had some real friends-but there are many who let him down…he told me of them often while he was alive.
But the point I suppose I am trying to make is that this man had impact on me-one I really didnt know existed,and now I find myself wanting to defend his voice….but its really silent because he is dead.
Its like some wierd redemption. My own father is ill-cancer,and it is him that I’d want nurture and be there for and know thats not going to happen….so far,and who knows…but yet heres this man that I end up having to pick up and carry from the parking lot whose lifes end gives such a lesson as it gave me such a unique sight into how his life branched into a son-a son he had not seen since the boy was two,and that was 35 some years ago. And now through Griers death this young man finds an extentsion to his self-a family only known about and now they become real to him. And Rose-thirty seven or more years ago she murders a man,a complete stranger-and leaves a two year old child with out a father. And escapes from prison four times-the last for twenty years and we meet and our lives entwine for a season until all of these things come out. And through that -a murder of a man completely unknown to me and yet I become involved in a part of this….the ending result my own son meets his wife and now there are children-the oldest two. How strange. If it had not been for that meeting-my meeting of this convict…there would have not been a branch like the one that exists today.
I make an About Face everytime-once I’m sure the path is going in one direction it somehow takes a twist….gladly its twists take turns and go down passages and into other paths and I’m able to see what some of this might mean.

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