A Story of different kind...

 PREFACE:

For a long time, many friends and family had urged me to dedicate more time to writing.  If I had to answer a question of "why did they urge you", I suspect its not my overwhelming literary knowledge; nor my underwhelming knowledge of college level writing or english language skills.  So I'm left only with this assessment to the question as the answer anyone might seek I guess. 

That would be, I write from my perspective, I trying and relate my fives sense to any experience or topic such that you...  can find a way to relate to the topic on a human level of "any man/woman"....  essentially I write I guess from one humans perspective in a very raw often curse filled and exceedingly open..... and yeah way goddamned more honest than I think most are willing to allow themselves.

The Story...

So after a year that saw a near deadly motorcycle accident; last April and then followed by just an obliteration of my finances, ability to make money and the sale of everything from work trucks to priceless guitars just to pay rent and eat (sometimes, stay tuned).  The death of one of my dearest friends followed four days later with the death of my cousin, both from cancer and abruptly in the middle of a budding love relationship AND in the middle of a 12 step spiritual convention in West Virginia. 

As if this year wasn't bad enough having saved myself and my business from homelessness I avoided a distracted driver from a head-on collision and trashed my only vehicle in the processes.  My lawyer asked why didn't I just smash into him you were in the right!  Well because I couldn't think of just smashing into this fucking moron and killing him in my F-250 Super-Duty as I drove a brisk 28.2 mph overtop of his crumpling brand new baby Land Rover that was traveling at least 30mph.  The instant amount of physics I was able to calculate with my knowledge and speed....  Let's just say the math didn't look good for his tenure here on the the planet.  Instead, his 18yr old self acted like he played no part and I repair my truck with the last $2000 in my business bank account.  Essentially ending bankrupting my business....

Yeah so that's my shit show of a year until now...let's not even discuss the PTSD, let's not even get into how I'll never again have a career as a commercial driver or that I'll never ride a motorcycle.  Instead let's get down with this whole writing, journey bullshit and see what shakes of it.  Because I've got some shit to say now.  After having essentially, my whole world resurrected into this "new" version of whom Ray is... I have found a different level of courage, a little more freedom and entirely okay sense of who I am and what matters most to me.  In essence, after 54 years I'm okay inside my flawed, loved and worn human skin.  Late AF, but better than never.

I'm ready to follow the advice of a Mr. Bill Riley.  He was my Radio Broadcasting teacher at the prestigious Broadcasting Institute of Maryland.  He ripped open the door to the studio I was rehearsing;  he tore the cans off my head and pulled down on my shoulder to better leverage his tippy toe state and proclaim in my hear; "I know you, and I know your story, this may not be the medium or venue to tell that story, you are a writer Ray!  You are a story teller and telling your story is far more important than this field remember that".  I am here to follow the wishes of my sweet and so, so loving Aunt Linda.  She has read everything I've ever written I think and has always encouraged me to write on.  Just maybe next time find a way to write where you aren't using so much foul language.  With the caveat, "although I know what you are trying to evoke with that language, you can do better and still evoke the same emotion I think".  

So here I am, warts and all as they say.  Imma just sit right here with this bullseye of truth right on my back and spill it.  I had this story I was going to tell.  It really was a creative, crafty piece.  I was gonna tell one story with all this detail and guiding the audience to a path that would leave their jaws on the floor with how the story really unfolds and concludes.  That project was still in the "barely researched, mostly talking about it, defining purpose, flow and the mechanics of how to craft the story line"....  And then today happened.  

And then that happened...

So yeah, that really cool (yet overlty grandiose) story ain't happenin.  Instead, my almost virgin-esque debut or foray into the quasi literary world starts with explaining what I'm fielding at the moment.  More to say, having to close out a year that has been two years, re-fire, rebrand and rebound my business.  Yet personally navigating what seems to be my new life.  Since I burned the old me to the ground; so I could live a more honest, freeing, purpose filled life dedicated to love, honesty and service to my fellows. 

Losing sight of who I'd become, because it wasn't who I wanted to be; nor the man my shadow was proud to follow.  So my plate is full and I never saw this menu coming.  So if I'm to tell this story, you need to know.....   before I bore you to absolute death with my witty colloquialisms; in my present state and place in life I do not give my permissions for these things to happen.  But with nothing more than a desire to stay focused on love; I willingly accept all of it!  No matter how it comes, no matter what time of day or night, no matter who it brings me to or I to them.  I will try with grace, dignity, honesty and that same love to be the vessel I am supposed to be.  Because after all, the people of Narcotics Anonymous and Alcoholics Anonymous did not bring me this far to stop having my back.

So yeah, the plate and its contents.  Besides the normal stressors that one finds in the business of life, we add in recovery, focus on spirit, forward growth, relearning me.  I have a very close friend that is dear to me, his dad was dying.  I did my part, I showed up, called, sent texts.  Just overall made sure he knew I had his back no matter what and I am "right here".  I have a friend I've known since my teenage years, who climbed the ladder to fame and is now, not famous and just one of us.  But now with so, so much mental and emotional baggage and so much hurt and pain.  He's been living in Nashville since his "retirement" from the music business.  His roommate literally exploded in front of him and died, left him the house, the bills, the emptiness of not having anyone that loves him like I do.  So I brought him up from Nashville for the holidays.  Just because I had a few bucks and I wanted to make sure he was around love this holiday.  You know, while the US is on fire again with Covid-19.....  

Then let's add to this plate, another restaurant sized course, of my best friends, step-dad is on a hospital bed in his living room at the end stages of mesothelioma.  With that, comes my 5 year old niece that just absolutely effing adores her Pop-Pop and all that that encompasses.  That is all breaded with his being just a good good, fun loving, singing along to country music, hard working, whiskey drinking man with a heart bigger than the orb we live upon.  Then there is my "Other" mother.  Shelly.  Ugh, my heart is breaking for her even more today.

Yeah that plate is steaming hot and we still haven't gotten to the gravy or the goddamned stuffing.  Shit.....   Let's talk about how my ride or die, no question home boy that has been holding all that down for mom, and showing up for his dad, he's migrated from one career to another as a result of our business hitting a wall.  Let's pour that gravy over the stuffing made of being a stellar dad, fighting off covid, 55 hrs a week, and becoming the Patriarch of his pride.  I'd think that plate is as full as it's gonna get.  What I didn't disclose to this point?  Like life, things are fluid, constantly changing and in such a world it's not practical anymore to use the china.  So that plate we're all given, I got caught up thinking it was made of china.  Then I learned real fast last year, nope!!  

Life is really hard and the easier you pick up on these life lessons, the easier the path and the greater the enjoyment.  So yeah, rebuilding that china plate over and over with the crazy glue of bullshit we design to hold it together until we've gotta rebuild that same plate and dig another miracle from the bum of our life to hold it all together yet again.  Life lesson learned, work smart not hard.  How so?  It's okay to stack as much crap on that plate as you THINK it can handle.  Sooner or later after all that mess ends up on the floor, a few things will happen.  

First, one way or the next you're gonna find out just how much is too much.  Knowing where that line is at and staying just south of the point of collapse is gonna be your best bet for a journey worth working for.... and lastly if you're lucky enough to find out sooner that then later... you will as the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous says, "Intuitively" come to find out exactly how to "safely and effectively" manage when that plate isn't as strong as you thought and you gotta ask for help.

Because experience is such an awesome learning tool, I can tell you that all of my senses have become very learned in this last two years and as such; let's just say I'm kinda pissed off that I'm grateful for those lessons.  For the biggest reason as it has allowed such enormous growth beyond anything I could have written on paper.  Yeah, gratitudes I spose.  But besides that, I didn't sign up or give my stupid opinion on how I would like my storms to come, how much wind and chaos it is supposed to deliver and how intense and for how long.  Nope, didn't give my permission for all that, that was....  Found out real goddamned quick that life doesn't give a rat's ass.  I ain't the lunchroom of life, "take what ya need, leave the rest" oh f*ck no it IS not.  

I can say that, because the first storm to show up in my recovering life..... I DID NOT WEATHER!  I failed!  I failed miserably.  My wife, my bestest best friend ever and for always, the mother of my beautiful baby girl (now woman) and just the pretty much the goddamned best teacher I ever met....she was murdered.  She was shot under her left arm, and in a video that replays in my head since 1999; was her lifting her arm to deflect the gun as the bullet was already cast from its death vessel and smashing through shirt, then skin, flesh, tendon, lung and now before all of the velocity times mass has taken its toll, it destroys the aorta and superior vena cava as if a paper doll defending a flaming arrow.  

And that video still ends with me waking up feeling like I'm drowning, or occurs on a ladder or while talking to you, or driving and I have literally shake my head like a magic 8 ball to get it out of me.  Yeah that storm, I found out the hard way.  

No matter what you have, who you are or aren't yet, doesn't matter your status in work, life or what the hell ever.  If you are not spiritually fit, to say no to that first drink or that drug when that storm shows up in your doorway.....  Yeah, good luck to ya....ummm hold on tight, don't forget to call if ya make it.... um yeah.  We're talking about simple spiritual fitness being the difference to any addict or alcoholic of my variety in whether they do or do not survive the storm.  Fortunately, you can surmise to that extent; I survived the first storm.  Now what did I learn?

This isn't even the whole of today and what happened....  but I didn't start this process, this document or whatever gibberish this has as of yet manifested itself to be... until 8pm this evening and its' now 1:30am.  I really need to focus, which means I need sleep....  My night time medication is kicking in so I need to rest my aching back and my soul...... so I cannot continue to not fight with my story and accept it as it comes.....

Chapter 1a More to be revealed......