"Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habits. Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your destiny." -- unknown

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results - Albert Einstein

Wanting what I can't have
September 12, 2008 - 8:57 pm

It made me... very sad. I mean, profoundly sad.

I started thinking about this and that.

We used to have this wall in our basement... well, it was really the family room, but it was in the basement. It was a good... 25ft long and totally covered with pictures. I asked my mom the other day what of those she still had... and if she'd think of giving them to my brother for him to scan in. I don't know if she will.

I got to thinking.. about the other side of my family, my dad's side. Both of those grandparents died when I was young. Under 10 I think. I'm terrible.. just terrible at placing when things happened. Dunno why, I just am.

My grandfather died in his sleep. Went to take a nap before dinner... and just didn't get up.

My grandmother died in a nursing home -- or it could have been a hospital. She was in both at one point or another. I'm not really sure and probably didn't quite grasp the difference then.

I remember it was early in the day... they called. They being the facility. She was going downhill as they say...

Someone must have watched us -- my brother and I. Though I guess if I was 10ish, he'd of been 16ish. Perhaps that's old enough to be left alone.. but no, someone... a neighbor must have been paying attention or something.

I recall... when they came back. My mom told us what had happened and... my dad went to cut the grass.

I remember being confused and asking mom why he was cutting the grass. She sort of shrugged and said, "that's what he'd like to do I guess."

I hate, I mean... really hate... cutting the grass. I used to think it was all about how grass is never 'right'. It's a exercise if fucking futility to cut it.. it just grows back. Only people who want something that's never right.

Now I think... the bit about my dad is a part of it too.

I don't know how my grandfather on my mother's side died. I meant to ask when we were in Kansas... but it never seemed like a good time. I know they lived on a farm until mom was 3ish... and then there was a combine accident and grandfather lost some of his fingers... so they sold the farm and moved to town. He sold insurance after that.

He died... I want to say.. three months after I was born.

Anyway, in the pictures...

Now and then my folks will talk about this or that from 'back then'. One thing that comes up rather often is that my brother loved, I mean really loved, 'snakes'. Not the reptile, but the 'firework' that when you light it.. it 'grows' like a black snake. Not really sure how to describe it better than that...

He loved them. There'd be jokes that after playing with them he'd turn the bathtub black -- he'd be covered in the soot or whatever it is. He'd light them and get just covered in the stuff.

There's a picture of him... on the CD. He's probably seven or eight.. mom sitting near him.. and damned if his legs and forearms aren't just black. Damned if he doesn't have smudges of the stuff all over his face.

I like hearing those stories.

Well, in a way I do...

In another way... they make me feel... I dunno. Empty. Broken. Not right.

I can't quite say way. I suppose it'd all be obvious enough to someone else.

No, that's no true. I do know why.

All these stories.. the pictures... the reunion.. all that is about feeling 'included' in something. All of that is about being a 'family' and the bonds that entails. All that.. is about good times. All that is about... knowing you are really part of something. That you have 'support'.

Does that make sense?

I've never... well hardly ever... felt that. I'm -- by my own choice or whatever -- outside that. I look in.

Everyone wants what they don't have. Not much is truer about people. Once you get something... you tend, more often than not, to want more or something else. Never is enough, no never is enough.

All this weaves together. It all fits in my head.

I know the brain candy is working.. since even as I type this.. and cry. I'm not totally desolate like I would have been while ago. Yes, I'm sad.. I'm depressed... but it's in a normal sort of way.

I can feel.. can see the difference.