Cafe Hitch-hike


Been living life a bit more than thinking and writing about it

I wished my Uncle Joe a happy heavenly birthday. He would had been 63 today. I told him I was sending lots of laughs, reports on my many adventures, and love to him in the sky. I feel a little sad, but I miss him a whole lot more. I accept he's not with us, and I yet can't believe it will be 3 years in September.

I also celebrated 2 other events. I've dwelled in my Patio Lounge for 2 whole years now. The local frogs are croaking a symphony around the ponds. It's also been a year since I've moved into my current position. Both events have happened without undue drama, conflict, or duress. I quietly felt pleased when I shared this with friend last week.

My niece would have turned 20 years old this week. Next, the defendant in her homicide case will face a grand jury indictment. I explained to my sister Bre (her mother) what that meant, and that a trial would probably take place soon after. Bre felt really awful about this taking so long, but I assured her that Florida's circuit courts always had issues with backlogs, even before the damn pandemic. The court also charged the defendant with another crime related to my niece's homicide; he will probably plea bargain (meaning he will plead guilty in lieu of having a court trial) where he will get 5 years of prison.

I think about my family in this situation, but then think about the many more who gone through the same thing. I almost wonder if the next big boom in this country isn't necessarily about our usual social injustices, but instead, people who are fed up with the aftermath of violence and violent crime. It just feels to me that it adds up.

I think about the time I spent with College John's dad, John Senior. I felt some concern over CJ's health, but I felt differently about his father. Getting into a semi-caregiving groove wasn't difficult, but I felt something rise in me. I know that doing that full time can be exhausting and this was temporary in my case, but I felt something. I wanted to help because CJ and I had an agreement to help each other if something happened with our families. It's wasn't because of a tit-for-tat kind of deal, but what if I believed in the people I was asked to help? I knew CJ's parents took good care of him and they were good people. I felt a sense of care towards his dad that I didn't frequently feel, and maybe a part of that was sympathy because he lost his wife this past July. I wanted to give him a little something so he could keep going.

I almost felt weird calling him by his name rather than by a title like 'uncle'; to call him 'Mr.' would had been too formal. I almost felt 'Dad' slip out at least twice.

I then thought about the little things I was doing in the house like cooking and keeping JS company. I cleaned up and made some meals to reheat for when CJ came home; I even replaced the litter in the damn cat box so he wouldn't have to do it for a little while. I could feel the difference in the home before I got there and when I was there. I sensed it felt warmer, more alive. I was cooking, talking, and spinning around the house with the dog. I never really could compare what it was like for a home to not have that kind of presence with when it did. Honestly... I never realized what a kind of care I was able to bring. I've lived alone for a long time, but I never thought about what I bring to someone else's abode. It was... humbling, yet so eye-opening. Well, maybe I was able to do that because of who I looked after, and what they meant to me.

Meanwhile, it's nice to be able to say I've been living life a bit more than thinking and writing about it.

downwind | upstream