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Sunday, June 26th 2005

8:26 PM

Purging we will go.

Hello All:

I'd actually written this post this morning, and the Goddess of the ethers must not have been pleased as I got that dreaded screen message...this site does not seem to be functioning, and everything I'd intended for history was gone.  Absense may make the heart grow fonder, but it also causes one to forget lessons learned, such as selecting all and copy before sending anything up into that mysterious world of cyber space in case there should be some malfunction or burp in the energy flows that are the internet which will consume, devour and digest what you've created, never to be seen again. 

I wonder, is there some mystical, even magical place where these writings reside that we just do not know about, cannot find?  Perhaps, in fact, my words had not been upsetting, but instead I had pleased the Goddess of the Internet with my words, so pleased in fact that she claimed those words as her own, writings not intended for the humble eyes of the human race. 

Imagine some special place, the Temple of the Goddess of the Internet where deciples gather, catalog and preserve perfect examples of prose, preserving for all time those words which we assume are never to be shared, a special vault of gilded gold wherein those writings that please the heavens reside, waiting for that day when we have reached a higher level of attainment, a sense of one with the universe wherein we can finally join in and be one with the energy flows of the cosmos.

ANYWAY, it is evening, the sun gone on the horizon, the sky darkening as the stars gaither anxiously to make their appearence in the night time sky.  I woke this morning in need of rest, in need of a day where I did nothing but relax, rest and catch a second wind.  It is exactly three months and a day since I had my surgery, at least three months out before I am supposed to be back in the world of the hard working, but I have never been one for listening to those of a conservative heart and mind, those who put limits on the human soul and the body's ability to heal, get well and carry on.  I've been back and working now for over a month, my invincable spirit pushing me to find my way back to where I was before, and I think I have done a good job of it, but I realized last night that I have been pushing myself to far to fast, and was in need of rest.

I finished the landscaping job last week, though going to have to make a trip back to the site tomorrow to fix a couple of glitches, little things that are not wrong, but small things the customer would like done a bit differently, and perfection in a thriving business is in the eyes of the customer, not in the eyes of the creator, so I will make the changes they want in my never ending quest to give them exactly what they wish for.  One would think that leaping back into the fray of the work-a-day world would weary one, make one tired, but instead, my own return to work saw me taking a serious look at our own house, saw me make a list of things that needed addressed, and once a list is done, it must be acted upon.

When Sweet Pea and I met, got involved and committed to our love for one and another, I moved down here as it was the sensible thing to do.  Much of my STUFF was stacked floor to ceiling in our garage, the door closed waiting for the time when there would be space in our home for those various assorted treasures to live. 

Unfortunately, as time slid by, her stuff, and some of my stuff was joined by new stuff, that proverbial stuff known as OUR STUFF.  Our collection grew by leaps and bounds, and there were contested, even heated arguements about making room for my stuff while the acquisitions of jointly held stuff went on in earnest.  After awhile I really did not miss my stuff, and so it lanquished there in that dark space, not seeing the light of day for some five years. 

One of the things on my list was to reclaim that space known as the garage, the desire for a garage in which to park a car to great to ignore, and so the time had come...yes, that time we all face from time to time when we need to purge ourselves of at least a part of our past, take a few days walking through memories, weighing each, and deciding what needs to stay, and what can go.

Friday morning at 7:34 in the AM a THIRTY YARD dumpster arrived at my house, sitting there omminously on the street, its bright yellow, hard steel skeletal system screaming to be noticed, demanding to be fed.  At 8:07 AM with a cup of coffee in hand I openned the door to the garage and said hello once again to my past as I starred at the army of boxes and bags stacked floor to ceiling waiting to say hello.

I worked all day at the task, sometimes wildly tossing items into the void of the dumpster in an almost giddly glee, reveling in the freedom from stuff no longer needed.  At other times I quietly, piece by piece, went through a singular box, almost reverently carressing each item exposed to the light, remembering where I had found the treasure, reliving the memories, sometimes recrying tears of times from the past that were either bittersweet, or had been to painful to deal with in their time. 

By night fall I could see though not touch the back wall of my garage, and the omminious yellow dumpster no longer seemed so sinister, as if it were almost smiling in understanding...I stood there for awhile, my arm resting on the door of the dumpster, two friends examining the emptying garage, understanding its relief as it tasted the newness of fresh air and space in which to breath.  The job was not done, but it had been a good day.

Both Sweet Pea and I were up early on Saturday...we'd agreed that she would start her own purging down in the basement, and surprisingly, she was actually ready to get to work, ready to cleanse herself of some of the haunting ghosts lurking in long ago buried things and stuff that she no longer really needed.  At around 2:15 PM I finished the garage, made a final sweep of the area and drove a car into the space for the first time in five years, and almost exactly five years to the day I had moved my things into the space and joined two lives into one. 

I'd met with a contractor earlier in the day, and on Monday the building will be getting a new door and opener, and later in the month I am having the driveway resurfaced to make the garage's journey complete.  A garage that was filled floor to ceiling now has a single file row of boxes on one side and the back wall, my first 44 years of life reduced down to a sum of less than fifty boxes of stuff, little items collected on myj ourney through this world filtered and reduced down to a countable amount of stuffs.

Being honest, I know at some point in the future, on a day yet to be chosen that I will purge again, let go of more things, more stuff that acts as mile markers from my past, but for now, I have done what I can, have gone as far as my heart and mind can handle.  I found a small 5x7 photograph, black and white...it was a picture of my first wife Barbara that she had given to me when we were first dating, her standing on a hill in Sun Valley...it brought back memories of when times were good, brought back memories of a love that had once been, but long since died away.  I found old journals written in the darkest hours of night during that lonly time of my life when I faced my past, brought the issues of my abusive childhood out to see the light of day, read some of the entries, and cried some final tears before deciding I'd grown enough to throw those journals away, and let go forever of what had once been a life of pain.  Later in the day I glanced at the photograph of Barbara one last time before I swept it up with the rest of the dirt and debries laying there on the floor and tossed it into the abyss of the dumpster.

I found a picture of my mother holding one of my nieces...I'd taken that picture of her on one of her last visits to my farm.  Soon after that her eye site finally gave out completely...one of the sad ravishes of her diabetes that slowly took her away.  My younger brother Karl and I had moved her in with him and his wife deciding that was best since I lived so far from quality medical facilities at the time.  Two weeks later my brother came up to Ohio from Washington, DC (he was stationed at the Pentagon at the time) and packed my mothers life up, closing down her apartment and turning the keys over to a saddened member of the buildings management team.  She passed away some 12 years ago, and I miss her to this day.  My brother Karl died to me back in 1997 as well, though he is still alive, though living behind four gray prison walls.  At times I miss him, wish we could go out and have a beer, but cannot bring myself to a point where I can forgive him for the things he did, forgive him for destroying a family, and taking away my four nieces and nephews who I have not seen now in almost nine years, though I cimpletely undertand the why of his ex-wife's decision. 

There were happy times during my time of purging...I'd forgotten the fact  I used to print up each of Sweet Pea's emails and carefully place them into a three ring binder, and it was fun reading some of those notes from those early times when our love was blossoming.  I found an old purple and white button with the words, "Purple Power" proudly emblazoned across the front for all to read.  I graduated from Fairmont West High School in Kettering Ohio, our colors were purple and white, home of the fighting Dragon's and somehow that button had managed to travel with me through my life for all these years.  I found my old American Flag decked out with buttons collected at various concerts and events from my youth...betting here that some of those buttons are now serious collectibles, but I could not sell them at any price and so carefully folded the flag back up and tucked it safely into one of my plastic boxes of things meant to continue traveling  with me as I march toward those golden years where our memories of times past keep us company in our waning years.

I took today off, I went outside and stared at the dumpster a couple times, but spent most of my day out by the pool content in what had been accomplished.  Two people, two days and between Sweet Pea and myself we had managed to fill a 30 square yard dumpster with stuff we were ready to let go of, and in that there is some cause for rejoicing, even through a few tears have been cried in  letting go.

Tonight I am reflective...I turn 50 in February of 2006, and my wife turns fifty this fall, plans for a celebration of this important mile marker in her life already well under way. For those of you who keep notes, make sure to visit her Blog on Novermber 1st to wish her the very best.  Statistics say that on average, as a male I should live to be 74, though I am hoping for something above that average.  It's hard to think on the subject that my life is perhaps 2/3 past, only a scant 25 years left for me to uncover the mysteries I was sent here to understand.  Cannot remember the artist, but there used to be a song with lyrics something like, "I know there ain't no heaven, and I pray there ain't no hell, and the only thing I ask of dying is to go naturely.

Not sure where I stand on either heaven or hell, know I want to go naturely, but I pray there is something else after I leave this space in the cosmos.  I watch the flowers blooming in the spring, look up into the skies trying to count the stars and I know there is something far bigger and more graceful than I...will I at some point have a chance to travel the stars, a chance to truly stare in the magic of the heavens and understand the true meaning of life?  Would life truly be easier if we had the proverbial owners manual? Would those who lead us be wiser if they had a glimpse of that greater power that holds this universe together?  I don't know the answer, but know I'm not ready to die, and know when I do go that I want some assurances there is a new journey waiting for me on the other side.

For now, going to close.  Hope everyone who regularly visits my blog are going well, and everyone have a great week.

Dream Dragon

 

 

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