Life,  All About Moments.

My olde to a freer mind. Good morning, NT!

Good Morning Cal, 

I am so sorry for you loss. I must think a bit more before I reply. But yes, life is about it's moments. I had one, too very similar, but the take away was very different. Again, later in my life, I had one with a student and a very critical decision, one I still live with today. 

I will write more.. but words matter here.

Most definitely I look forward to it. (Smile.)

So this is my first story:

Things Left Unsaid

I have a very close friend who recently took a vacation with his wife. I kept reminding him that before he left that he must say "Goodbye". He was curious as to why I was so emphatic about him saying "Goodbye", but I didn't want to tell him why it was so important to me. I told him I would explain later, when he returned from his trip. I guess, knowing me, he knew there was something more to this and he suggested that it might be a good idea for an article. I wrote this while he was away, and waited until I knew he was home to publish this. So, this one goes out to him, but it really goes for everyone.

What seems like a lifetime ago, I had a very good friend, Jesse. He was everything a person should be. He was kind, good natured, brilliant, athletic, and very handsome. But to me, he was a great pal, someone I could talk to and would keep all my secrets. We cared about each other in that very special way that happens only every now and then with guy-girl friendships.

We were getting ready for spring break in my Junior year of high school. There were parties planned and vacations, too. The Friday night of spring break I had plans to go to a party with my friends, and then the next day I was leaving for a short car trip with my family. I had seen Jesse during that Friday at school. He had decided not to go to the party, but instead to go and visit our favorite teacher at her home with another friend of ours, Mark. He said to me not to forget to say "Goodbye" before we left school that day, since I wasn't going to see him at the party. But being a 16 year old, I was consumed with other things. The day ended and I never said "Goodbye". I went to the party and had a great time.

The next morning, I had a very early phone call from another friend. He told me that after Jesse and Mark had visited our teacher, that Jesse, who was a new driver, had lost control of the car and hit a tree. They both had died in the accident. I got off the phone and cried. It was then I realized that I had never said "Goodbye" to Jesse, as he asked. I felt haunted by my lack of consideration to his request. Did he feel something was coming, or did he want me to say goodbye to acknowledge that we cared about each other. A goodbye is such a simple yet meaningful way of saying, "Even though we're apart, I'm still thinking of you."

I sat through Mark's funeral mass and cried my eyes out. But when I went to pay a Shiva call to Jesse's family, I sat calmly with my friends, who were shocked by what seemed like a lack of emotion. Those who knew him less than me were crying, while I sat there silent. I was consumed with guilt over a simple request to say "Goodbye". I never got the chance to say to him for the last time, that even though we're apart, I care about you and I'll be thinking of you. It is a lesson I still keep in my heart.

We all have people in our lives that we care for and love. In the busyness of our lives, we often forget to say the little things to them to let them know how we feel. Sometimes, we never get that second chance. We should all try to take the time to say our "Hellos" and "Goodbyes" To acknowledge that you care about them and that you're thinking of them, as if you may never see these people again. It's far better than leaving things left unsaid.

So that is one of my "moments" Cal. I get the feeling that the death of your boyfriend got you thinking that it was some sort of sign. But I think, that moments are often nothing more than moments. The death of my friends, was not a sign from god, although I could have taken it way. I could never believe in a god that would smite two better people than these two young men were. It was just a tragic moment. People tend to take away different things from these turning points in our lives. Shortly after Jesse and Mark died, a girl tried to commit suicide over it. She was in no way any closer than I was. I doubt that their death was supposed to illicit that kind of response. My takeaway was to try to think about those we love daily, because we may never see them again. It has been 41 years since that awful day, but this one lesson that is burnt into my soul. 

I developed faith to blunt all obstacles that might push us apart.

Perrrie, I can relate to the value of your friendships with Jesse and Mark. They sound like swell guys. I appreciate your sharing their tragic account with me, us. In these "moments" sometimes. . . there are so many details that can not be added for personal and descriptive reasons. M, was a man who wanted me enough to ask the absurd at that time in the late '80's—for me, a military man, to walk down our streets holding hands and to "officially" marry him. All of these in the 20th century! Here's the irony, and I want everyone to understand me on this point, "M" —Michael, was not a part of my spiritual journey which came many years later and separate from his departure out of my life. Granted, life is a seamless tapestry and he certainly has been significantly-uniquely-placed in my memories of love and loss.

I repeat for emphasis: At the time and for many times after, the love of my life, was not a pivot point to my faith which I acquired in the 90's. My story is a "open-book" account of someone who loved me enough to startle me; so much so, that he wanted what I had not yet dreamt. In this sense, he was a visionary!

Another critical point not expressed in the "poem." Michael did not die to my knowledge. After a one year plus stay in convalescent care (in coma), he was packed up and medically flown home to Florida to his family. To this day, I do not know if he possibly woke up and continued his life. I had to release him, . . . his family was sufficiently nice enough to me, . . . but I had no legal rights to anything more than. . .nice.

Thank you so much for your kind sharing thoughts and words to ponder.  For giving me a chance to farther explain. And, do understand me, I am not sad about anything anymore.

P.S. There is one other sharable detail about this which can be interesting. If I am asked, I will share.

P.S. There is one other sharable detail about this which can be interesting. If I am asked, I will share.

Well.. now I am very curious... what is that other sharable detail?

Thanks for asking! (Smile.)

Imagine with me, if on the day of Jesse and Mark's deaths, after all the sirens, police cars, ambulances, groups of on-lookers, and county vans had departed, you happened to approach the tree involved in this tragedy, and intuitively became aware something terrible had happened at that place.

I chose to walk to work that particular morning, it was something I could do for it was healthy and not a terribly long "jog." At the end of the day, on the way home, I walk into my neighborhood, . . . I come to a certain intersection. . .and. . . on the asphalt there is this. . .haunting to think now, . . .outline of somebody chalked, for which I remarked to myself: "Did somebody die here?!" As it turned out, no-and-yes, something did end there for my life. I was "woke" to it not very long after closing my door at home.

Funny that you wrote about a chalk outline. 

My very first day of teaching, I was told to go down to the East Yard, and go to the spot for room 4-309 and wait for the first bell. Being that it was my first day, I wanted to get down early and see the lay of the land, so to speak. There behind the painted 4-309 on the asphalt, was a chalk outline of a body. It was shocking to see, but since this was the height of the crack epidemic, one could only imagine what happened there the night before. But even more disturbing was watching the kids, who would become my students trying to see if they could fit neatly into this outline. I "woke", too. That these children will live in conditions that most of us will be totally unfamiliar with. That I was about to change, too. 

Btw.. I did go the tree that Jesse hit. When I touched it, in my mind's eye I could hear his cries of pain as they tried to get the engine off of him that was crushing him. I could see Mark, thrown from the car and on the pavement with his head cracked open. I saw Mark's dad dying from a heart attack in the hospital after hearing Mark had died. I could see this as if with my own eyes. But of course we know I didn't actually see it. Yet, for some reason, even today, I can close my eyes and see that like it happened yesterday. So to say that it didn't change me in some fundamental way, would be denying the truth. 

You said: I want everyone to understand me on this point, "M" —Michael, was not a part of my spiritual journey which came many years later and separate from his departure out of my life.

That is impossible for you to say. We are an amalgamation of such events, and whether or not we recognize it, they define us, as we are more often reactive rather than proactive and this form our fight or flight and decision making process and that defines who we are. You wrote:

M, was a man who wanted me enough to ask the absurd at that time in the late '80's—for me, a military man, to walk down our streets holding hands and to "officially" marry him. All of these in the 20th century!

I think we are about the same age, given the information here. I have two childhood friends who later came out in their mid to late 20's, and who were either on the down low or not even entertaining being gay at that time. Heck, my friend Phil says he still laughs that we used to call each other "faggots" meaning it as "not cool". What did we know?  I think that it might have been just like that for you. My friend Marty.. had a much further trip to take.. as he was raised in the Church of the Salvation Army (yes I know most people don't realize that is an actual church, but it is)... that is a whole different story for another time. 

I "woke", too. That these children will live in conditions that most of us will be totally unfamiliar with. That I was about to change, too.

That is powerful. I learned so much about head-trauma, first in ICU, coma, autonomous body movements, and helmets which I continue to this day explaining to anybody who needs reminding. The issues in life do change us in incremental ways. I'll agree to that!

 I want everyone to understand me on this point, "M" —Michael, was not a part of my spiritual journey which came many years later and separate from his departure out of my life. That is impossible for you to say. We are an amalgamation of such events, and whether or not we recognize it, they define us, as we are more often reactive rather than proactive and this form our fight or flight and decision making process and that defines who we are.

Of course, Michael changed me. He holds a unique spot in my life. Only he fits 'there.' But, he was prematurely cut away from me. Worse, after I settled in to the realization that he was not coming back I remembered something that again, sticks with me to this day. Michael loved his super-bike and he loved going fast on it. That was his issue, we talked about it on occasion, whereupon he once told me, "It's the power,. . . ." He liked to get it up to 100 MPH. He showed me too.

He once rode me on that bike up to 100 MPH thereabouts coming back from a concert, at least, it felt that way! I was not about to try to look around him at any gauge. I was holding on for our lives! I never let him demonstrate his bike prowess again. Bet! I rode with him often, just not outrageously fast. Knowing that he was that good on his bike, it caught me totally off-guard, and even to this day, I say "Damn." What did him in was not a long stretch of road, but a miserly unmarked intersection. The officer told me something I did not know about before. He reported that my neighbors knew about this motorcycle guy 'tearing' through the area. Good old neighbors. I never knew! By the way, I petitioned City Hall to mark, unmarked intersections. I do not remember the outcome.

So,. . . I dealt realistically with Michael, his love for bikes, and speed. It could not be helped or halted by me.

I think that it might have been just like that for you.

Perrie, I am not clear on what you mean here, but I want to be. Please elaborate.  (Smile.)

I came out in high school. It was'nt a craze or culture moment back then. I just did it. We were fightin' our own personal rebellions at the time . . . and being surprisingly successful. I'm cool like dat!

As for my time with Michael, I was all the way AGNOSTIC. No church in my 'rear-view window, or windshield.'  Did you just mention church?  Ah! Now you know how I feel about spiritual things nowadays. . . GIVE! (Smile.) Just kidding, go at your speed. Patience is a virtue.

But you didn't explain how he changed you. How would you have been different had he not been in your life?

I think that it might have been just like that for you.

I meant that you might have had the same experiences that I and my friends did. 

As for my time with Michael, I wasall the wayAGNOSTIC. No church in my 'rear-view window, or windshield.'  Did you just mention church?  Ah! Now you know how I feel about spiritual things nowadays. . . GIVE! (Smile.) Just kidding, go at your speed. Patience is a virtue.

I didn't bring up religion other than what my friend Marty was going through, so no I didn't mention church. And actually I am not sure how you arrived to where you are.... 

How long does it take to cause 'shifts' in another person's psyche? For all we treasured, and we did share much, it all came to an abrupt halt, before the real test for us could appear. Our relationship was anticlimactic, Perrie. After all these years, I still have packed away several gifts he gave me. Ironically, in my possessions from that period - not one picture of him. What the heaven was I thinking?!

I have two childhood friends who later came out in their mid to late 20's, and who were either on the down low or not even entertaining being gay at that time. Heck, my friend Phil says he still laughs that we used to call each other "faggots" meaning it as "not cool". What did we know?  I think that it might have been just like that for you. My friend Marty.. had a much further trip to take.. as he was raised in the Church of the Salvation Army (yes I know most people don't realize that is an actual church, but it is)... that is a whole different story for another time. 

You wrote the above.

What do you mean by "down low"? I need to know that we are speaking the same jargon. People do arrive at their sexual 'states' at different stages of life, I'll agree. Moreover, you have folks who "swing." Be plain as to why "I" give off such an impression like 'them' please. (Smile.) For your last several sentences, church is mentioned after, " I think that it might have been just like that for you. My friend Marty." Reflexively going back to "I have two childhood friends. . . ."

Arrived at where I am? Today, you mean? Please understand me, for I am not being obtuse. This is an isolated "scene" from my life, it is not the embodiment of who I became after. My purpose is to blog and let some folks get to know a few things about myself. But, in doing so, I am definitely compartmentalizing "moments." Thus, I am being genuine when I ask which me you are confused about. (Smile.)

Ironically, in my possessions from that period - not one picture of him. What the heaven was I thinking?!

How very sad. 

What do you mean by "down low"? I need to know that we are speaking the same jargon. People do arrive at their sexual 'states' at different stages of life, I'll agree. Moreover, you have folks who "swing." Be plain as to why "I" give off such an impression  like 'them' please. (Smile.) For your last several sentences, church is mentioned after, " I think that it might have been just like that for you.My friend Marty." Reflexively going back to "I have two childhood friends. . . ."

"Down low" means living life as a straight man in public, while being gay in private. And yes I know that sexuality has a large spectrum. I said your experiences, given that it happened when we were about the same age in the same time period must have been similar. I don't think you were like them in any other sense, since they are nothing alike (Phil and Marty that is). The reason I mentioned Marty, is because you both didn't seem comfortable in your own skin at that time. Not the religion aspect. Phil was very comfortable. Funny thing is no one would take Marty for gay, but he never was with a woman. On the other hand Phil, seems more gay stereotypical wise, yet he has been with women... so there is your spectrum we talked about earlier. 

Arrived at where I am? Today, you mean? Please understand me, for I am not being obtuse. This is an isolated "scene" from my life, it is not the embodiment of who I became after. My purpose is to blog and let some folks get to know a few things about myself. But, in doing so, I am definitely compartmentalizing "moments." Thus, I am being genuine when I ask which me you are confused about. (Smile.)

Yes I meant today. I do realize that this is an isolated scene from your life. I guess I am trying to get from point A to point D. I tend to be very straight forward and if in doing so I offend, please try to understand that is not my intent. 

I will be patient as you tell your story at your own pace. 

We were not planning anyone's demise. We were young.  After hospitalization and long-term care, it just was not enough of his mind to 'claim' in a picture. This song was Mike's favorite. I am going to dance now. . . .:

Interesting.. I love that song and I was a "West End Girl". (which is kind of funny because they are referring to the west end of London and when I first heard the song I though they were singing "Western Girl", as in the US west). 

It's kind of telling in the video version - the international favor, that is. Big on screen in discos, as you can imagine. Did you ever 'disco,' Perrie?

Thank you for letting me 'speak' about Michael in your company.

"Down low" means living life as a straight man in public, while being gay in private.

Or some, not all, straight men having sex with other men secretly.

No, I was comfortable in my skin. I was out completely. What a lot of people may or did not know, and I discovered for myself, is there has always been LGBTQ people serving in the Armed Services. The Officers and Enlisted ranks just did not bother to make federal cases out of it. Men feel for other men and women in their circumstances, platonic-wise. Disciplinary issues only arise out of matter becoming "out-sized," "burdensome," or criminal. Of course,when discretion was lost - the party/ies faced an investigation.

Thus, there was no rational basis of flaunting regulations to excess. "Making a wave." I loved serving my country—Even if officially the government had hatred for my sexual nature. In clearer language, the military contracted me to be constrained. I was in the right to honor my commitment.

Why was I ever with women knowing my interest, status, and condition. That's a fair question: 1. Women, I learned, sometimes, not all, are inclined to get affectionate with men they allow into their 'higher' circle. 2. There are various scenarios where men and women come together and sex is unavoidable.

It's kind of telling in the video version - the international favor, that is. Big on screen in discos, as you can imagine. Did you ever 'disco,' Perrie?

I did.. but actually I was a "New Waver". That song was big in the clubs. 

Thank you for letting me 'speak' about Michael in your company.

It has been my pleasure and honor for you to share them with me. And I thank you for your candor. 

I am not sure I understand what you mean? Did you not have female friends? Did they expect something more than you were willing to give?

Why was I ever with women knowing my interest, status, and condition. That's a fair question: 1. Women, I learned, sometimes, not all, are inclined to get affectionate with men they allow into their 'higher' circle. 2. There are various scenarios where men and women come together and sex is unavoidable.

I had plenty of female friends, and some of them liked my fine self! Oh Perrie, It was all good. (Embarrassed.) But candidly speaking, sometimes it 'just happened.'

Nah, don't be embarrassed. 

In the old days before media, if a person in a village should die, then the church bell is rung and the village people went to the church to find out who died. In Meditation XVII, English author John Donne wrote "Seek not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee," meaning that when any one of us dies, we all die a little bit, so we don't need to seek out who died since we all have died a little, have lost something. I would restrict that to say it would apply if we had any kind of even passing or infinitesimal relationship with that person because in my opinion our brain forgets nothing - it is stored even if we are yet incapable of retrieving it. In other words, something about that person is ensconced within us.  Hemingway made that concept the theme of his masterpiece novel "For Whom the Bell Tolls".

Hi Buzz! It is positively uncanny you should be here writing this comment just now. Look at my  7.1.3 . I must have been writing it as you were doing so. I have never shared this treasured thought with anyone until today.

Jesse mattered to you. He impressed upon you to always remember to "hug" the travelers in your life, no? That's great. Sometimes, as we watch the news we see Officers of the Law shred their facade and allow vulnerability to pour out of them over some large-scale or particularly horrendous tragedy on their watch. Because it is impactful. And, that community leader feels it should matter to the community. So s/he openly wipes a tear away on behalf of us all. Presidents have even been observed sharing honest and tender moments with the public.

To this day, I tell many of my closest to give me a hug on their way out the door. Once, I even went so far as to place a "hugger plate" on the door leading outside. (It did not last long. Something about wall "graffiti" LOL!) Still, I hug away and dare to ask that most dreaded of questions: "Where you going?" "Just in case I need to know where to look. . . ."

Actually, Jesse fundamentally changed me. I was a fairly popular kid at school and I got along with most kids, but Jesse taught me not to take your true friends for granted. Till today, the friends I love the most are those who I have had the longest.. many dating back to the age of 5 and 12 (elementary and junior high school). I have and would do anything for them. We have been through thick and thin, and I hope we are there for each other till the end of our days. 

That's interesting. For a heck of a lot of reasons. I moved away as befitted my 'situation.' We did not stay in contact. Honestly, I often wonder what that specific attachment feels like. I really do wonder. My memories are fundamentally intact!

Honestly, I often wonder what that specific attachment feels like.

Which kind of attachment? A close childhood one?

A life-long feeling. That's some history, for real. It's easy to take for granted, I guess. Except, when you don't know it.

That is a very sad story Calbab.  I'm not sure what to say......I am sorry that part of your life has brought you so much sadness.

TAP, when you are not nearby I miss you my brother. Thanks. 

Not to worry Calbab......Even when I'm not around you on the web.....I am with you in spirit.

Tap you are always such a kind man. 

Thank You......However.....You are far kinder than I......I see what you put up with on here......

In case you have not heard it lately.......You do a fine job here.....

Thanks TAP. It's nice to hear something positive every now and then.

It bears repeating that you have my support and you shall have it going forward! At first, I was hesitant to put this here, but I think it is okay! Incidentally,  I have been waiting for you to share a New Wave band notation! I listened to New Wave too, and I watched quite a number of live bands during my time in Memphis! Great city.

[My next blog article is on Faith.]

Although I don't know if it's correct, but I've read that "goodbye" is really short form for "God be with ye (you)", and if that were true one should never forget to say it (unless you're an atheist, I guess, in which case you can say "farewell" instead).

There is an American theatrical play, and I wish I could remember its name or the author, about coming back after a person is dead and (like Scrooge was with the ghosts, unseen and unheard by those he visited) realizing and regretting not being more observant, appreciative, and more openly loving of the family left behind.

Got it. It was Thornton Wilder's "Our Town".  This from Wikipedia's synopsis of the plot:  "Emily returns to Earth to relive one day, her 12th birthday. The memory proves too painful for her, and she realizes that every moment of life should be treasured."

Newstalkers, You are welcome to open up about your own stories. (Smile.)

Neetu2, thank you.  A most beautiful gift of a poem, I will treasure and often it visit.

A moment of deep pain can

soar upward to the end of time

I have dreamed what a friend

can do for another.

© Calbab 2018

Firstly, I merely reworded your words, Calbab, so it is not my poem, so to speak. But I am glad you like it. And please call me just Neetu. The 2 was added by Perrie when the new NT was built. I had nothing to do with it! I am just one and just me.

I am truly sorry for your loss which you have described in this post. I actually just read the whole thing and wasn't sure I captured quite the emotion in my attempt to write a poem for you. Maybe you ought to change the last stanza to

"could we have discovered

the joy of love together?" 

or something to that effect.

Neetu, I do love my poem. It means the world to me. In part because of Michael -the great love of my life- and you cared to do me this honor of a poem. I am blessed! Take a look at the last stanza and you will see that I only wanted one more word change:

Now you have stolen

my fire, awakened desire,

baby, can we discover

the joy of life together?

Michael and I were ahead of our time and we were full of young love. We lacked only a life time.

I am glad it meets your intent, Calbab. Poetry must always convey an intent effectively. 

I will reveal a moment held in my heart all these years and never divulged. In my poem the words, "child-like naiveté" is a metaphor.

Michael owned a biker jacket possessing two combined colors. One dark night as we left home to go out dancing, he on his super-bike, me passengering with a friend, I lost track of him though we followed close behind. In the car headlights, what I plainly saw in front of us was a motorcyclist with a little kid riding behind him. What? Where? Who?!

It was an illusion of light, dark, and contrast played on me. That was Michael.

I can imagine how you saw what you did, Cal. Nights have a way of playing tricks on our eyes. I like that you transferred your memory of the illusion into your poem and it became symbolic of one of the nuances of Michael for you. 

It is exciting and delightful that we can drop hidden things into poems and no one be the wiser, except it be explained! So cool!!

Dear Friends Calbab, Neetu and All Who Responded in this Discussion Thread:

Great poem.

Great posts.

This is the best of this site.

Onward and Upward.

Enoch.

Friend Enoch! I have been counting the days. So good to feel your presence about! Thank you for sharing this.