Remembrance

Do you remember the first time

Do you remember the feeling inside

Do you remember the first time you lied

And a piece of your conscience that died

Do you remember 

Do you remember

I can remember the first time I swore

The first time I took pride in the dress that I wore

I can remember the first time I was meant

I knew it was wrong, it was felt in my being

Do you remember the first time

Do you remember the feeling inside

Do you remember the first time you pried 

And that little piece of your conscience that died

Do you remember 

Do you remember

I can remember the first time

I do remember that feeling inside

I remember the first time I slacked off and said that I tried

Remembering the pieces of conscience paralyzed

HalaluYah !

Yahshua conquered death 

Part 5: Standing Still

~~~LANGUAGE WARNING ~~~Disclaimer - in trying to make the voice as accurate as possible, I did not censor this entry in any way.


Barbie wasn't your average 14 year old. Daughter of a rocker, she was definitely sassy. I'm not sure what ever happened to her real mom, but we thought her Stepmom was cool as hell. And I'm pretty sure she was a vampiress or some other kind of freaky.


Barbie was beautiful. She was neither tall nor short, but her skeletal frame could not possibly have amounted to more than 80 pounds. Big beautiful eyes outlined with thick black lines, big beautiful black lips, her cold blue eyes popped in contrast, rivaled only by her deathly pale skin. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't uber jealous at the time. Her long black mane matched that of her husband Scott, the Italian stud.


Life with them was...wreckless. Still riding the high of newfound freedom, my 17 year old graduated self was loving the outta school no rules lifestyle. I don't remember much about college at that time, only that I passed. Somehow. I do remember calling into work a few times. Sometimes we were sick and sometimes we weren't. Sometimes we really just didn't care.


Only a few things are notable from that time. The guys huffed a lot. My car broke down a lot. We were pretty sure some demons lived under the house. James registered to vote just in time to vote Obama. And one time we got locked in the mall. We had lots of cats and dogs and rabbits. Well, actually, they had a lot of cats and dogs and rabbits, but we had two little calico kittens that we claimed as our own.


Scott and Barbie fought a lot. But that wasn't none of my business. We had our room on one side of the house downstairs, they lived upstairs. Scott and James had been bro's since before even James and I had gotten together some three years earlier.
We spent a lot of time with Mom 2. Her and his little sister, Connie, had finally moved out of his Grandma's house. Mom 2 said she had always relied on someone else and her own place was high on the bucket list. Even if it was a government apartment, it was home to her. And a second home for us.


Our house was a little less than clean. There was a bit more excretion from all the animals than us four kids were exactly prepared to deal with. And we slept on the floor. And the space heaters...they didn't really heat much.


   Scott lost his job for sleeping in his truck at work but we didn't find out until payday didn't come with pay...because he had been spending the days out and about, sleeping in his truck during work hours because he was scared to tell us that there was no longer work to go to. Thank goodness for our credit card because that puppy kept the lights on that month. And took us probably six year to pay off, but that's a different story.




We had so much fun, too, though!


A good friend did piercings and didn't care how old I was. I got my tongue and my belly button done because I wasn't old enough for any other adult things. And because that was the hot thing to do. Piercings were sexy. I didn't value myself any more than the label I could obtain and, if nothing else, they, at the very least, made my fatass cool. And a rebel because I wasn't supposed to have a tongue ring at work. That was definitely a bonus.


One day, we talked someone into buying us a few gallons of wine. It was a dark night. Chilly but not too cold though that could just be the wine talking.


"I could be a gothic rabbit for Halloween." Barbie's favorite holiday is Halloween.


"Or you could be a gothic hooker." She kinda kicks Scott from where she's sitting while we all chuckle at his cleverness.


"Hey, can you trade me spots, babe?" James never could get as comfortable sitting in the floor as I could. Something about it somehow helps my hips.

Part 4: Coming Home

All I knew was we had to go back.  There was no choice but to go. I would never forgive myself if she died and we were here because we knew she was gonna die and just selfishly stayed.  I knew she was dying and we were here and the silence in my head couldn't scream it any louder.

I told James we were moving back.  All he could say was, "Are you sure we can?"   He never has to say much because our hearts beat as one and I know it's breaking.

I put in a three day notice at work, I remember crying and putting up the truck.  I pulled to hard on some packing and gummi snakes went everywhere.  My boss came up, "Oh Chiquita, I know it's a lot."

"It's not just that, Sil.  I LOVE my job, I love this place.  I'm burning the only good bridge I ever had and I'm just...takes a little bit to say goodbye, is all."

We had to leave in three days or rent would be due and I couldn't afford another day plus the trip back on one paycheck and to be honest, I was so far behind after the radiator, I wasn't quite sure our finances wouldn't implode shortly after if we stayed.  I already talked to Heather at Sonic and we were both starting back at our old jobs Friday.  Silvia promised me over and over that it would always have a job if I ever came back to the Rainforest.  Laine and Bev couldn't wait for us to come down.

"I had all of our things packed when I picked up my paycheck and my bank wouldn't cash it.  That gas station that didn't take cards but had an ATM?  Charged fees for every transaction.  And all of the stupid hose clamps and stop leak had overdrafted us, the dinner we took my parents to digging us just a little deeper. So I had to waste gas to find a bank to cash it and then they charged us $15.00 since we don't have an account even though the check was on their bank!"  Samson just looked at me.  He knew I was freaking out and he was just as calm as could be.

"I will give you $50.00.  You cannot say no, you will take it.  First, you and James go eat a good meal, you be well fed.  Use the rest for whatever it is you need."

"Samson, we're moving to Arkansas tonight.  I'll never be able to pay you back that much money."

"You pay me back, that's fine.  If not, that is okay, too.  My belly is full, I do not need it.  I know it will come back to me when I need it most.  But you must eat first!"

And that was goodbye to Samson.  We ate at The Rainforest one last time, I hate goodbyes.  

We came back in a blur that day, so overwhelmed with change and fear and excitement and goodbye.  I just remember the car being so totally crammed with stuff I couldn't see out any windows.  It had taken us two explorers to come up there and even mashing socks into the crevices of the packed car, we were leaving a lot behind.

--

I had a meeting with the Dean - Scott, I think his name was, the day before we left.  They had online programs, but web graphic design wasn't one of them.  Praise Yah October ended a trimester and it was perfect timing for me to switch around just as we moved.

"Just switch my major to business.  It's more practical, anyway."  He looked at me.

"Are you sure about this?"  He had helped me a lot this semester with questions far below a dean, but he answered them all anyway.

"Look, my boyfriend's mom is dying.  And she's like a second mom to me.  I don't really have a choice.  But really, web graphic design was a pipe dream anyway and business will get me better career options, I'm sure.  And someday I'll write a book about my crazy life and none of this will even matter anyway."

"Okay, it's done.  You are officially majoring in Business Administration with a concentration in Small Business Management and Entrepreneurship.  Make sure you graduate, Rusin, because that's what will make the book worth reading.  Getting what you wanted."

I'm not sure what I wanted.

--

It was about 1:00 in the morning when we crossed the Arkansas state line.  We came in by the P highway, right by the house I grew up in, so we took a detour.  We hadn't told my parents we were coming home, so you can imagine the shock on their faces when we woke them up with the doorbell.  They couldn't hide their happiness in seeing us, hugging us over and over again to be sure we were real.  

Then we hopped over to his Grandma's, where his mom was.  We passed our old high school, which had changed so much in the five short months we had been gone.  

His mom had tears in her eyes when she brought us in, so glad to have her babies with her.  James's little sister even teared up a little, standing there in shock with her Jack Skellington pajamas and her stop sign red hair.  Thirteen is just so young!

Everyone is alive, everyone is real and I'm really freaking tired, so we make our way through the eighth hour of our journey into Black Rock, where we'll be living with Kane and Barbie.

Part 3: Fireworks

When I think about Kansas, I think about fireworks.  I'll never forget how I felt when I opened our curtain from our four story window that first night and all the city lights (as far as I could see) were like fireworks.  We were finally here.  Alone, together.  Our moms were somewhere in that city traffic but all that existed to me in that moment was James and the rest of our life.

"My mom gave me a ring.  She said to pawn it if anything ever happened."

"Really?  My dad gave me his cross for the same reason!"

My dad and his mom were so much a like and they were both so freaking cool.

He put the ring with my necklace and we both decided that night that no matter what happened, we couldn't pawn Jesus.

We woke up early that first day, our moms at the door.  "Shannon, James, we got lost on our way home and ended up on the Kansas side of the city.  We decided to stop somewhere for the night and we found this quaint little motel, Settle Inn.  The guy at the front desk is a preacher or a prophet or an angel or something, his name is Samson.  We told him how you were moving into a motel with a kitchenette temporarily beside the school.  He told us, 'Bring your children here.'"

Mom 2 (James's mom) picks up seamlessly where Mom 1 (my mom) leaves off,  "There's no bars on any of the windows and the gas stations don't have armed guards.  And the weekly rate is half of what you're paying over here."

Mom 1 picks back up, "And they have a pool."  Damn, she knows me too well.

I would never admit in a million years that the money was an issue.  The room we were in was a little steep.  I knew I had the cash for at least three weeks, but after that, the $600 a week would have required us both to have full time jobs plus the social security check mom would be sending me monthly.  Unless, of course, we found an apartment by then.  But when you're planning for something you want as bad as I wanted this, those risks are just minuscule in perspective.  But I was very disappointed when our motel didn't have a pool.

So we packed all of our things that I unpacked yesterday and our moms led us to Samson.  They said they were staying another night to help us get settled in but really they just weren't ready for goodbye.  

Mom had never really let me drink up to that point, but I was an adult now.  We all got so drunk that night in their room, three doors down from ours.  We blubbered about his mom's cancer (thankfully in remission for the third time since I had known them).  Their babies had grown up and they loved us and how did we get here so fast?  My mom opened up like she hadn't in years.  I had missed that side of her.  And it was just enough to make it another difficult goodbye.

They left on the Fourth of July.  I remember standing under fireworks like I had never seen that night, his arms around me.  He pulled me close to him.  And in that moment, the taste of his kiss and the tenderness of his lips against mine consumed me...and I was overwhelmed with knowing that my life had never been so right. We were finally here.  Alone, together.

--

So I got the coolest job ever working in a rainforest-themed gift shop/restaurant with real-to-life animatronic elephants and a talking tree.  James got a job he hated at "the ghetto Walmart" and I let him quit because I hated the drive.  My dad called and woke me up every morning on schedule, letting me snooze for my requested five minutes before he would call me again. 

School was less exciting than I had anticipated.  I was going for web graphic design because I loved expressing myself through digital art but so far, all they had me doing was designing lame adds for a lame burger joint that doesn't even exist. 

None of my cool classmates shared more than one class with me and, even though our Kansas motel was only 3 miles away from campus, the line dividing the states likewise seemed to divide the people.

We gave up on the apartment thing pretty quick.  I don't think we found a single place for less than $700 a month, not counting the utility bills it would require.  Besides that, I was only 17 and we weren't married.  That meant I was a liability.  And only a motel would rent to us.  But it was okay because the maintenance guy at our motel hooked us up with alcohol by request and most of the motel crew would get us high on the side.  They were our friends and some even our neighbors.  Turns out quite a few people actually lived in that motel.  We never really used the pool much, though.  All of the vacationers and their loud children usually took full ownership of that area, completely oblivious that they were romping through someone else's back yard.  Continental breakfasts were usually the same way.

If it weren't for Samson's presence inspiring some conscience, I can't imagine what Kansas City might have been like.  He gave us father-like advice about life and love and relationships and living.  He talked about God a lot and you couldn't help but be a little inspired by the unwavering faith that allows a man to spend his last penny on something he believes in.  "God will provide."  He said it with such assurance, you just had to believe him.

--

It seems like all of my best memories are in a car.   The song in the background that particular day perfectly echoed my natural high of teenage ambition:  "Come in here, dear boy, have a cigar, you're gonna go far.  You're gonna fly, you're never gonna die, you're gonna make it if you try, they're gonna love you..."  James makes a face at me when I obnoxiously make my best guitar squeal sound.

We got hair cuts that day.

I go on and on, and he just listens.  He doesn't have to talk because our hearts beat as one and vocalize enough sufficiently for the both of us.

"It's a new city, we're starting a new life.  We can be whoever we wanna be.  There's no limitations, the sky's the limit!"  

"Yeah!"

James had lost his ID and we had just finished the grand adventure across the world to order him a new one.  Everything in the city is big.  It was nothing like the small town DMV that would print you one just cuz you said you lost it.  We had had to bring two pieces of mail, his birth certificate, social security sample, blood, DNA, and urine sample.  Actually, the urine sample was a different trip but you get the point.  Going downtown was always an adventure!

I flipped my hair as I cruised into QuikTrip, our home away from home, and I went in to buy some cigarettes with my college ID since James lost his.  

"I can't take that without a date of birth."

"Seriously?  Please?  I just moved here from Arkansas for college and we're still unpacking and I just can't seem to find our IDs but we went to the DMV today."  I really, really hated lying.  But they estimated three weeks for his ID to come in and going without cigs would be like a three week itch you just can't scratch.  I probably could have gotten Josh, the maintenance guy, to buy me some later but damn it, I was nic fitting now!

She still wasn't happy about it, but she sold them to me, anyway.

--

When I think about Kansas City, I almost think the world might have been spinning a little too fast sometimes.  I think about fireworks.  I think about how desperately in love I am with that perfect man.  I think about getting rear ended at a stoplight by a distracted kid and just letting him go.  We had adventures worth a lifetime discovering new parts of the world together every night - Guitar Center, Piano World, Game Stop.  Every night ended with hours in the car, eating our cheddar jalapeño sausages and drinking frozen cappuccino from our 52 ounce QuikTrip cups, planning our next adventure.  The motel was a block away from a QuikTrip and I told James every night, "Just you wait.  When I turn 18, I'm so working there."

I'll never forget that one night that we went to QuikTrip and filled a couple of water bottles with gas.  We huffed it all night, swimming in rivers of color in a world where time doesn't exist, our ears caressed by the soothing tunes of Pink Floyd's "If" and "See Emily Play."  I don't think I have ever woke up more hungover in my life than I did that next day.  I NEVER did that again.  

Or the time someone gave James some shrooms and he ate the caps and I ate the stems.  He told me I didn't have to do it with him and that he knew that kind of thing scared me.  But the thing is, I wanted to.  It was a thrill, it was bad.  It was as far away from home as I could get.  It was alluring because he was doing it.  Because I remembered the romantic stories my mom would tell me of her young adulthood in the 60's and it was cool to be bad.  And we had the time of our life.  I sincerely never meant to drive under the influence, but they took so long to kick in for me and James had said that sometimes the stems don't work.  He had seen this television commercial about Denny's and was convinced it was a magical breakfast land with pancake slides and he just had to go.  And it was 3 a.m. and I was bored and disappointed and hungry so I humored him.  And I tripped the whole way there.  And everything was so...much!  The good and the bad and the terror of seeing a cop and the heart thumping realization that I was doing something wrong.  We never got caught, Praise Yah, and we didn't die.  And we spent the night into the morning as two kids euphorically dancing and laughing the night away.

There was the one night we huffed air duster though, back when it still tasted good, before they put the "bitter-agents" in it...and James stopped breathing.  I just remember feeling so good, lulled by the "wah-wah's," and everything I see is as though in a strobe light, and I have never felt so right.  Like fireworks.  And I hear him gurgle, and my heart catches in my throat.  And I metaphorically wave my arms trying to cut through the fog, the fog that just moments ago held me so gently and now it was suffocating me.  I knew what that sound meant, somewhere in my innermost being I knew what was happening and I knew I didn't have much time to get with it. 

The rest of that was just a blur, I was just so overwhelmed with fear and loneliness and relief and the threat of goodbye. 

And oh my gosh how excited we were when James got his first credit card!  It only had a $300 limit, but it had his name on it and everything.  I remember James would get carded for cigarettes and would huff in indignation, "Don't they know you have to be 18 to have a credit card??"  He's so damn cute.

And the time the hotel accidentally over-authorized us and tied up our whole account.  Or the time my radiator went out.  

My mom and dad drove all the way up there that next day.  I had called them, crying and crying.  "My radiator is overheating and Daniel, my boss's husband, did all he could to it, and we kept having to use the ATM at this gas station that didn't take cards for hose clamps and screw drivers and it was hot and my car!! Dad, my car!! What do I do??"

We had a reunion and we traded cars. And I wanted them to know I was every bit of strong and independent and every bit of super freaking awesome (maybe not freaking) mature young adult they had ever raised me to be.

We took them to The Rainforest and all my coworkers made the moment perfect, that "I did it, dad!" moment that every adult looks forward to.  They had such an amazing time and were so happy and proud to see how fine we were doing.

And they went home, them taking my piece of crap explorer home and leaving me the big white one.  And everything was great and life continued on.

Dad would call me every day, he was doing good just not quite feeling the greatest yet but doing everything the doctor asked.  And in the out-of-sight, out-of-mind way that I have, I believed him when he said he was fine.  He was quitting smoking and he was in good hands.

I remember for his birthday that year, I sent him a Rainforest T-Shirt that said, "I wish you were here."  He had called to tell me it was his favorite shirt.  And James sent him a knife because, "Every good man needs to have a good knife."  My dad called to tell him it was his best knife.  I wish he was here.

And then we got THAT call.  The call that makes terror just grip you because it's  THAT would be the call - the call saying she didn't think she'd make it this time.  It was mom 2 and they found another tumor.  And we weren't going to get lucky this time because this one was the one and they gave her six months.

Part 167

"I had a dream.  A dark man with a dark eyes came out from darkness with a faint wind around him.  He said, 'You don't have to listen to Yah's will.'  And I looked him in the eyes and I told him, 'That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.  Yahveh rebuke you.'  And he went away."

Part 2: Saying Goodbyes

I could feel my breath catching in my throat. It was the it-the moment I'd been counting down to literally my entire life. The love of my life had already made this walk only moments before.  And quite honestly, I'm not able to focus on much aside from my flushed cheeks, the heat in the gym, and the surreal feeling of the teenage dreamer's equivalent of starring on the red carpet or making a million bucks or something.  I walk down the aisle and take my seat among my classmates and sit impatiently through all of the mandatory mumbo-jumbo.  I would have been valedictorian if I hadn't graduated a year early, but there's still the satisfaction in knowing that my GPA was higher than that of the lanky jock talking about being friends forever and junk.  

But the music makes me cry.  

And my parents make me cry.  

And my friends make me cry.  

And it was successfully memorable enough as a very emotional beginning to the rest of my life.  

Seventeen years old and the world is at my fingertips!

Missouri. We plan to move to Missouri for our first trek away from home.  But not just any part of Missouri, the razzle-you, dazzle-you Kansas City, Missouri to go to the not-so-renowned modern business college that successfully razzle-dazzled me.  

James and I have saved up enough money to get us there after busting our asses at Sonic for the last few years.  I think it's enough to get us into an apartment; to get us started at least.

Mom has begged and begged me not to go but Dad knows my life has to start sometime. I won't be 18 until February and that worries him a little, but I've got a good head on my shoulders and, as a high school graduate, I'm virtually unstoppable.  Besides, James is old enough to buy our cigarettes.

One week to go, and everything seems perfect.

Six more days...

Five more days...

Four more days...

"Hey Shannon, your dad doesn't look so well."
"Are you sure he's not just high?"
"No, really, Shannon, he's limping more than usual and complaining that his legs feel swollen."
Those words resonate with me more than most. My dad actually had open-heart surgery a while back and the doctor told him that he would be back in three years if he didn't make some serious lifestyle changes. That was ten years ago and my black-coffee guzzling dad was still smoking his 3 packs a day.

I make my way into the living room, approach the fuzzy blue recliner, and start casually peaking at my dad's extended legs. James was right. He is really swollen.
"Hey dad, how long have your legs been swollen?"
"Oh, Shannon, I don't know. What does it matter?" 
"It might have something to do with your heart.  Or your blood flow circulation. You could be about to have a heart attack or a stroke or-"
"I'm not going to the doctor, I'm fine."
"But dad, you've gotta go! I won't have time to take you after today because I'll be packing and then you're going to be home alone for a few days when mom moves us in and we'll be four hundred miles away! What if something bad happens to you? I will never forgive myself if you die because you didn't go to the hospital and I could have saved you because I knew you needed to go to the hospital but instead I just sat around and let you be stubborn and not go to the freaking hospital when I knew you needed to!!"
He glares at me a little over the word "freaking," but I think I got my point across.  Five years ago, he was unstoppable. He was tan and fit with his thick, dark black hair and his stark, icy blue eyes. Now I'm looking at my dad's pale skin, a shade of gray much ashier than that of his thinning hair.  His thin, frail frame is almost swallowed up by the recliner.  I think it takes most of his energy to just change the tv channel sometimes.  But I miss his eyes the most. He used to have the most breath-taking eyes imaginable, I used to pray and pray and pray somehow my eyes would eventually evolve into his, but now his eyes are cloudy with dark shadows around them. I usually use the out-of-sight, out-of-mind approach until moments like this one where I actually take it all in.  And then I start to cry.
"Fine, I'll go to the doctor but I'm not going to Jonesboro today."
"But dad, this hospital is a bandaid station! I wouldn't take my worst enemy there for a cold let alone my only father for a probable heart issue!"  He knows I am freaking out and he's just so calm, always keeping his cool.
"Deal or no deal." God, he's just as stubborn as I am. A doctor, although a somewhat uneducated potentially totally nit wit doctor, is better than no doctor, I suppose. So I agree.
Mom, Dad, James and I all pile into the dusty white explorer. I start the car, pull out of the driveway, and make a beeline straight for Jonesboro. 

He fussed a little bit but I bought him a whopper on the way out of town and it seemed to suffice as an apology.  Plus my dad loved me.  And he knew how much he meant to me.  So he let me haul him into the Jonesboro ER where they poked and prodded and we waited and waited.

 James and I paced and paced the urban hills around the ER, smoking cigarette after cigarette.  Talking, reminiscing about dad and that very ER.  I pointed to a window high above us, "See that window?  That's part of the annex...I used to sit on the ledge and peer out of it as a little girl, just looking for distractions.  I remember every time a phone would ring...and terror would just grip me because I knew that THAT would be the call - the call saying dad didn't make it."  I take another drag and stomp out my cigarette.  We make it to the cemetery (who had the bright idea to plant a hospital beside a cemetery anyway??) and James lights me another one as we turn around to start pacing back.  "Haha!  Did I ever tell you about the time they lost dad?  Like literally could NOT find him anywhere.  They called us freaking out!  Of course, I was panicking thinking he fell down the stairwell or heat stroked in the parking garage but NO, he was just chilling watching a Cubs game in the waiting room right across from his room!  Can you believe that?  Does that sound like my dad or what?"  James chuckles.

That's what's so perfect about James.  He just stays so quiet and let's me just go on and on.  And he always chuckles, agrees, and "ah's" on cue.  He knows I am freaking out and he's just so calm, always keeping his cool.  And he always calms me down, just by standing there.  Just by walking with me and letting me rant and rave and cry when I need to.  "And in three days we're finally moving off together like a dream come true and here we are, chain smoking in a 'tobacco free' alley just praying it all works out.  In three days we'll finally get to take our first real whack at true adulthood, and here I am, just a scared little girl blubbering off and on like an idiot."  He stops.  We turn and face each other in silence.  In one fell swoop, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me to him.  In that moment, the taste of his kiss and the tenderness of his lips against mine consumes me...and I am overwhelmed with the euphoria of youth, of unguarded love, of knowing that my life has never been so right.

--

Dad calls me into the kitchen.  He hobbles into the light.  I peak down at his legs just to be sure.

"I'm fine, there's just some rain coming in."

I've been packing the car all morning.  James is outside with our moms.  This is the hardest part.  I had always been daddy's little girl and I had always hated telling him goodbye.  Especially this time, especially now.

"I wanna give you something."  He handed me his gold crucifix necklace that he always wore.

"Oh dad, no.  That's your cross!  You love that cross."

"I also love my little girl.  The cross is gold, the chain is gold, Jesus is white gold.  It's gotta be worth something.  And I want you to promise me - if something happens, you pawn it.  Promise me?"

"I love you, dad.  We'll be fine, I promise."  I hug him.  He wraps his arms around me like he used to when I was little, before it was "uncool."  We both wanna cry but we're both strong and stubborn heart-broken fools.

"I'll take it because it's pretty and I love you.  But I promise you will get it back someday."

"I love you, sweetie.  I'm so proud of you."

We left in a blur that day, so overwhelmed with change and fear and excitement and goodbye.  I remember waving goodbye to dad and watching him wave from the porch until I couldn't see him anymore, blowing kisses just like he used to when I was little.  I always hated saying goodbye to my dad.  My dog, Percy, just laid in the driveway and watched me go. She knew what was going on and she knew I wouldn't be taking her with me.  The house I grew up in and the life I had always lived faded into a trail of dust behind us.  But the biggest part of my life was sitting right beside me and leaving that country road behind me was the most liberating feeling--it was that "it" moment that I had been counting down to literally my entire life. 

Part 113: How Many Times

When I was 16, I wrecked my car. I hit a loose pile of dirt on a gravel road and violently fishtailed back and forth until my top heavy explorer veered right on two wheels and came to rest in a ditch, narrowly missing solid standing trees on all sides.  I escaped with no injuries, my car fully intact minus a $300 window. My parents even let me continue on to the friend's house, surprisingly understanding and glad for the lesson [safely] learned.  It was nothing short of petrifying as time slowed down and I realized I had lost control.  In those 8-10 seconds, I thought about a lot of things - pissed off parents, upset fiancé, losing my precious car, missing work, death.  The branches on the sides of the road were so loud when they would hit me (or I them, I suppose) and all of the miscellaneous junk in my car all flew at me at one time it seemed.  I remember pleading, "JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL!!" Yah was DEFINITELY with me that day.

I used to torture myself, replaying what I believed their last moments might have been like, mentally willing myself into the car, praying I could have been in their place but at the very least WITH them.   I can see the backs of their heads. Hers was probably on his shoulder. They were probably holding hands.  He was probably going to fast, Taylor Swift's "Fearless" album providing the soundtrack.  "I don't know how it gets better than this, take my hand, drag me head first, fearless."  Our anthem that summer - the summer that nothing else could go right except that the FOUR of us had each other and our music and the Lord...and that's all we'd ever need.  I can hear her angelic voice, soft and sweet tinged with a thread of fear, "Randall!!"

But it's too late. By the time we see the deer in the headlights (was there fog I wonder?), we're too close.  Did he even have time to think before he chose to swerve?

I wonder if time slowed for them? If they had that, "Oh, shit" moment of terror when it started to roll?  (How loud is the destruction of metal?) If they cried out to Jesus (YAHSHUA) the same way I did in anguish so many nights after that one?

Part 166: The Lonliest House In the World

He says he has flashbacks.  About them.  Dying and stuff.  And as cold as it sounds to my own ears, I think I'm finally past that.  I mean, don't get me wrong, I still visualize car wrecks...a lot.  But the bloody details are gone.  For me, it's now more like a diagram on a black board before a ball game.  I see a log truck or a gravel hauler or maybe a guy with a rickety wheel...my mind plays out the final destination-esque scenario and when it doesn't happen, the sadistic coach inside my head wipes the board and starts again.  

For me, it's the house.  The house that was our home - "our" being all-inclusive meaning them, as well.  The house we stayed in way too long after the dream was over.  The house that became hell.  

I see it all so clear.  We had our hoarded little niche in the 12 x 12 living room.  Perpendicular couches that once seated our joyous family became our beds, and night turned into day and day into night and we would just think and think and think, two lonely prisoners secluded from each other and the world by the walls of our own mind.  With the doors blocked off by heavy blankets and the windows blacked out with aluminum foil, the only source of light was artificial, and the darkness was all-consuming.  

We had a kitchen.  A very bright, dirty kitchen that I never felt motivated to clean.  The last time I cleaned it, Shane was there.  Keeping me company.  Letting me vent about people dying and keeping my cool.  And we laughed together.  And he was real.  And he was there.  But that was centuries ago and now the dishes are piled high (I rinse them when we need them).  You have to go outside to burn the trash so I let it pile up until I can't stand it, my threshold constantly expanding.  We haven't had hot water in years and the only heat (or air in the summer) is in our room...the living room that we exist in.  There is a never ending cycle of laundry, floor to washer to dryer to top of dryer and if it falls I guess maybe I'll cycle it again if I ever happen to miss it.

There's a bathroom in the hallway, and three doors that each lead to another level of the purgatory we created.  Door one was the band room that used to have music.  Now there's a rug with the fading indention of a drum set that I helped Shane's mom dismantle after the accident.  Door two was the bedroom we started.  The one that Shane and Jess helped us paint.  It was going to be our room, our stuff still piled here and there, a painted closet door leaning against a wall, everything still exactly where we left it.  No bed, no dresser.  Just the beginning odds and ends thrown haphazardly into corners or boxes, a tv in the floor with an active DVR, neither of which would ever be used.  

Door three was at the end of the hall.  The room with the most memories.  Their moms had emptied their room while we were out one day.  We came home and their things were gone much in the same way they were, ripped away from us without so much as a goodbye.  There was a half-drink coke on the windowsill that turned yellow by the time we moved...

The house. 

The house that used to have two red cars in the driveway and then only had one.  

The house where even the puppies couldn't stay alive.  Where everything seemed to die.  

I drive past it every now and then, three years after we finally left a year too late.  For me, it was even worse than the ever-changing horror house of Stephen King's   "Rose Red."  I would have given anything for that house to change.  But instead that house changed me.

Part 1: When it all Quits Spinning

Memories fade. Probably one of the most cliché song lyric of all time, yet one of the most true.  If memories slip away like quick sand, why is it so hard for us to let them go?  If I could even begin to sort mine out, I think I might could give them away.  I like sunshine and daisies, without optimism (and scripture and prayer), I would be for naught.  

All anger, all sadness, all jealousy stems from that which we cannot have.  Whether it is OUR way or the way it was before, there seems to be such a simple solution to such complex problems.  Or perhaps a simple problem with a complex solution.  Or maybe it's not complex or simple or even a problem at all.  Maybe things just happen and Yah creates reasons behind us so our finite minds have a door to learn to accept that which simply IS.

Memories fade. 

I think that might be the most cliché song lyric of all time, yet oh so true.  If memories slip away like quick sand, why is it so hard for me to let them go?   

Maybe it's selfish to eternalize them. But maybe the only way to do them justice for peace (or to find me) is to give them away...

--

I had forgotten that I loved to write.  

--

"Your available balance is 37 cents.  To repeat this information, press star.  To return to the main menu--"  Click.

"Okay, babe.  We have 37 cents in our bank account, 62 cents on our food stamp card, 26 cents on my unemployment card, $1.12 on your credit card and $1.16 in change.  So that's...$3.53.  Friday's the tenth, so we have gotta make whatever we buy last until midnight Thursday night."

"What's today?"

"Monday...So I'm thinking hotdogs."

"I'm sick of hotdogs."

"Can you think of anything else that will feed us for three days?"  He shakes his head.  I didn't think so.  We head into Wal-Mart.  It's about 2 a.m. and the store is quiet.  I like doing shopping that way, no one can bother, no one can judge.  It is much easier on him if the store is empty.

Loaf of bread - check; 98 cents.  Hotdogs...88 cents each, three would be $2.64 plus 98 cents would be...

"Oh my gosh, Shannon!!"  

I grew up in the country where everybody knew everybody but I was never really country; least not enough for the country folk.  I said "y'all" and "ain't" but I never shot a deer, I didn't go to church, and quite frankly, I've always been too short to much care for trucks.  And as an adult, I've grown to care even less for people, especially people from my old life. 

And there I was, face to face with Brandon Smith.  I'm sure I had a deer-in-the-headlights look, I hadn't seen him since high school and so much had happened in two years.  He didn't seem to notice, "So how are you and James?  Where are you working nowadays?  Why are you here, I thought you moved off."

"Yeah, we did but we had to come back because his mom was sick."

"Awww, I think I had heard about that.  So how's college?"

The one question I haven't quite found a good way to answer yet.  "I dropped out."

"What?? You??  No!  You're like the smartest person I know and you're selling yourself short!  If anyone should have made it out of this town, it's you.  What the hell happened?"

I look down at my big toe playing peek-a-boo through my tennis shoe.  I was kind of prepared for this to come up at some point.  Shannon, the socially awkward band geek who's one claim to fame was academics - was a jobless college dropout.  

"Life happened."

Abortion

Exodus 21:22-25 KJV

[22] If men strive, and hurt a woman with child, so that her fruit depart from her , and yet no mischief follow: he shall be surely punished, according as the woman's husband will lay upon him; and he shall pay as the judges determine . 

[23] And if any mischief follow, then thou shalt give life for life, 

[24] Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, 

[25] Burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.

Unleavened Bread

Exodus 12:15-20 KJV

[15] Seven days shall ye eat unleavened bread; even the first day ye shall put away leaven out of your houses: for whosoever eateth leavened bread from the first day until the seventh day, that soul shall be cut off from Israel. [16] And in the first day there shall be an holy convocation, and in the seventh day there shall be an holy convocation to you; no manner of work shall be done in them, save that which every man must eat, that only may be done of you. [17] And ye shall observe the feast of unleavened bread; for in this selfsame day have I brought your armies out of the land of Egypt: therefore shall ye observe this day in your generations by an ordinance for ever. [18] In the first month , on the fourteenth day of the month at even, ye shall eat unleavened bread, until the one and twentieth day of the month at even. [19] Seven days shall there be no leaven found in your houses: for whosoever eateth that which is leavened, even that soul shall be cut off from the congregation of Israel, whether he be a stranger, or born in the land. [20] Ye shall eat nothing leavened; in all your habitations shall ye eat unleavened bread.

Exodus 13:3-10 KJV

[3] And Moses said unto the people, Remember this day, in which ye came out from Egypt, out of the house of bondage; for by strength of hand the Lord brought you out from this place : there shall no leavened bread be eaten. [4] This day came ye out in the month Abib. [5] And it shall be when the Lord shall bring thee into the land of the Canaanites, and the Hittites, and the Amorites, and the Hivites, and the Jebusites, which he sware unto thy fathers to give thee, a land flowing with milk and honey, that thou shalt keep this service in this month. [6] Seven days thou shalt eat unleavened bread, and in the seventh day shall be a feast to the Lord . [7] Unleavened bread shall be eaten seven days; and there shall no leavened bread be seen with thee, neither shall there be leaven seen with thee in all thy quarters. [8] And thou shalt shew thy son in that day, saying, This is done because of that which the Lord did unto me when I came forth out of Egypt. [9] And it shall be for a sign unto thee upon thine hand, and for a memorial between thine eyes, that the Lord's law may be in thy mouth: for with a strong hand hath the Lord brought thee out of Egypt. [10] Thou shalt therefore keep this ordinance in his season from year to year.

Passover

Exodus 12:2-11 KJV

[2] This month shall be unto you the beginning of months: it shall be the first month of the year to you. [3] Speak ye unto all the congregation of Israel, saying, In the tenth day of this month they shall take to them every man a lamb, according to the house of their fathers, a lamb for an house: [4] And if the household be too little for the lamb, let him and his neighbour next unto his house take it according to the number of the souls; every man according to his eating shall make your count for the lamb. [5] Your lamb shall be without blemish, a male of the first year: ye shall take it out from the sheep, or from the goats: [6] And ye shall keep it up until the fourteenth day of the same month: and the whole assembly of the congregation of Israel shall kill it in the evening. [7] And they shall take of the blood, and strike it on the two side posts and on the upper door post of the houses, wherein they shall eat it. [8] And they shall eat the flesh in that night, roast with fire, and unleavened bread; and with bitter herbs they shall eat it. [9] Eat not of it raw, nor sodden at all with water, but roast with fire; his head with his legs, and with the purtenance thereof. [10] And ye shall let nothing of it remain until the morning; and that which remaineth of it until the morning ye shall burn with fire. [11] And thus shall ye eat it; with your loins girded, your shoes on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and ye shall eat it in haste: it is the Lord's passover.

Exodus 12:14 KJV

[14] And this day shall be unto you for a memorial; and ye shall keep it a feast to the Lord throughout your generations; ye shall keep it a feast by an ordinance for ever.

Exodus 12:21-24 KJV

[21] Then Moses called for all the elders of Israel, and said unto them, Draw out and take you a lamb according to your families, and kill the passover. [22] And ye shall take a bunch of hyssop, and dip it in the blood that is in the bason, and strike the lintel and the two side posts with the blood that is in the bason; and none of you shall go out at the door of his house until the morning. [23] For the Lord will pass through to smite the Egyptians; and when he seeth the blood upon the lintel, and on the two side posts, the Lord will pass over the door, and will not suffer the destroyer to come in unto your houses to smite you . [24] And ye shall observe this thing for an ordinance to thee and to thy sons for ever.

Exodus 12:43-49 KJV

[43] And the Lord said unto Moses and Aaron, This is the ordinance of the passover: There shall no stranger eat thereof: [44] But every man's servant that is bought for money, when thou hast circumcised him, then shall he eat thereof. [45] A foreigner and an hired servant shall not eat thereof. [46] In one house shall it be eaten; thou shalt not carry forth ought of the flesh abroad out of the house; neither shall ye break a bone thereof. [47] All the congregation of Israel shall keep it. [48] And when a stranger shall sojourn with thee, and will keep the passover to the Lord , let all his males be circumcised, and then let him come near and keep it; and he shall be as one that is born in the land: for no uncircumcised person shall eat thereof. [49] One law shall be to him that is homeborn, and unto the stranger that sojourneth among you.

Lost in Translation

Exodus 11:2 KJV

[2] Speak now in the ears of the people, and let every man borrow of his neighbour, and every woman of her neighbour, jewels of silver, and jewels of gold.

I just thought it was interesting that the word translated as "borrow" here means "to ask for" but does not, by definition, signify any intention of return like the English word implies.  

http://www.godrules.net/library/strongs2a/heb7592.htm

Maybe People Haven't Changed?

I thought it was interesting that the Egyptians were so caught up in discrediting Moses that they COMPLICATED THEIR OWN SITUATION JUST TO PROVE A POINT.

"Psh, he turned a whole river into blood? So what!  That's nothing special, I can do that to!  See, watch me turn this last bit of drinking water we have here into blood as well!!" (Exodus 7:22)

Exodus 8:7 KJV

[7] And the magicians did so with their enchantments, and brought up frogs upon the land of Egypt.

Craazy!

Once upon a time, I knew a Pepsi delivery guy that believed in Yah but didn't want any part of Him.  I couldn't (and can't) wrap my mind around that!

Genesis 31:29 KJV

(Laban Speaking)

[29] It is in the power of my hand to do you hurt: but the Elohim of your father spake unto me yesternight, saying, Take thou heed that thou speak not to Jacob either good or bad.

Mote be gone

It is so easy for me to read Genesis and wonder, how could people be so stupid, Yah is talking directly to Abraham in the flesh saying, "Sarah's gonna have a baby," and they laugh at Him??  Hello Israelites?  Can you really forget by sunset the manna of the morning??

All of time is smaller than the palms of Yah's hands and I feel engulfed by the largeness of my tiny life by volume thousands more than I would ever care to count.

And then I remember the beam in mine own eye and yet I realize that I live atop the Tower of Babel in Sodom and Gommorah and that we crucify Yahshua everyday...

And then I realize people really haven't changed...