Civil But Little Else

 

After getting myself bandaged up, as I stated yesterday, I laid down on the bed and slept.  I think I slept for perhaps two hours.  Technically, I was supposed to go to a meeting at the U during some of the time while I was sleeping, but basically, I said "to hell with it".  It was a pretty damn useless meeting anyhow, and truth-be-told, I didn't give a sh*t at this point about it or really about anything.

I was.... very simply..... filled with a rage and an anger that was at a level I had never felt in myself before.  In my mind, I was seething about everything.... 

a) the stroke my friend had, 

b) the painful cuts, scrapes, and whole body aches and pains I was feeling, 

c) the death of the son of our family friend, 

d) past hurts from the "dynamic duo" at work, 

e) Covid-19, 

f) the fools who refuse to vaccinate, 

g) climate change, 

h) the sh*tty way much of our politics and our world operates today.  

But, I was angry and upset and raging as well about a whole lot of crap in the past as well.... 

a) remembering the death of my father 27 years ago and how he struggled to breath, because the damnable asbestos had induced cancer of the pleura  (mesothelioma) which encircled his lungs preventing him from taking in breaths at the end.  And, all I could do was stand there helpless, holding his hand as I felt his life slip away from him, 

b) how 14 years ago, my mother had gone into the hospital for a prophylactic surgery to have two stents inserted into two vessels that had *somewhat* narrowed on her heart... to keep the blood flow strong and robust for her healthy heart... and how two days after the surgery... the morning before she was to be discharged, I was awoken at 4am by the phone telling me that I needed to get to the hospital immediately.  I raced there, on icy roads in my truck.... reaching the hospital in less than 10 minutes when it typically takes 20.  Bounding up to her hospital room, she lay there dead..... she developed a blood clot around the damnable piece of sh*t stent and it broke free... lodging deeper in the vessel throwing her into cardiac arrest.  I was too late to be there with her, but I held her hand, she was still warm, 

c) how... long ago... my wife and I attempted to have our last child, and lost it to miscarriage, 

d) how back when I was just an eleven year old and my uncle who lived in our home with us suffered a fatal heart attack in his room, and I remember the ambulance coming to our home, the gurney they used to wheel him out of our home and rush him to the hospital and my never seeing him alive again after the ambulance left, 

e) how when I was 10, and I was playing in the backyard, and some damnable jack*ss tried to out run the train that was barreling down the tracks that ran alongside our home.... the screeching of metal as the car crumbled under the force of the train, how by the time the train was able to stop, the fellow and his car and the front of the train were a block or two farther away than when they impacted.... but the fellow's severed leg laid by the side of the tracks in our yard, 

f) how when I was seven and was coming home from a friend's house across the street a few doors down.... and our family dog saw me and ambled out across the damnable street to come see me and was hit by a jack*ss SPEEDING down the road in his damnable hot rod.... hearing my dogs last yelp at impact..... but then hearing the impact two times... once for the front wheels and once for the rear wheels, hearing the cracking of the bones in my dog's body, seeing her body roll in the disheveled, ungainly fashion only a damaged body can, seeing the blood coming out of the orifices of her head, 

g) when I was four..... seeing the neighbor girl who was two years older than me and was riding her bicycle in the road and the car that hit her head on.... and remembering how upon impact how she flew up and over the car and landed on her head behind the vehicle and watching her Dad pick her up and rush her to the hospital.

I now hated everything.  I continued to seethe and rage about these things to God and cursed and seethed about God as just as vehemently and viciously as well.  

This continued for the better part of three days.  I was civil to my wife, and civil to any of my kids that were around.  I visited my friend in the hospital, and I ran.  I worked in my office by myself.  But, I was not really "there" in any appreciable sense.  I was just filling space, trying to just get through it.... but I was not really participating in anything.  It was internally just seething with rage and anger.

PipeTobacco