I am horrible at dealing with loss, not because I get so overwhelmed with it that it overcomes me but because I have no idea how to talk about it once it happens. This is a trait I know that has been passed down to me by my mother which was clearly shown this past weekend.
A Little Background
Two weeks ago, my mother’s husband passed away. He was an older man who has taken care of my mother before and after she got out of prison. The relationship is something that most would not understand but in my 21 years of life I’ve gotten use to their nontraditional lifestyle.
My mother met Alton while she was caught up in a drug obsessed lifestyle. She rented a trailer on his property for a few years before she meet a man that deserted her when she went to prison for a few years. Once she got back, Alton was there to take care of her emotionally and financially like she took care of physically as he was grew in age.
Throw in the fact that my mother is a lesbian and the story gets even crazier but their love was something that can not be placed in the category of what most would classify as marriage.
My relationship with him is hard to define also but I was grateful for his presence in my life. He always had a kind word to say to me and frequently said how proud he was of me. His children were dirt bags that tried to take money from him to sustain their various habits, none of which involved taking care or getting to know their father so I tried the best that I could to be a some sort of son to the man.
He had lost his wife to cancer before my mom went into prison. He was going down-hill this tear after mother’s day because it would have been their 50th wedding anniversary. He loved her deeply. My mother told me a story this weekend that he went over 10 years with out any kind of sex with his wife and stayed faithful; a true sign of a man with a deep love for his wife while she was going through this trying time.
Back to the future
It was during the conversation over a Spicy Italian footlong that my mother and I had our closest thing to a deep conversation we have ever had.
Since loosing Alton, my mother has been cleaning and doing as many other things as she could nonstop, clearly trying to not think about the loss she is dealing with. I’ve called to check on her more than I have in a year but it’s mainly been talking about the details of the arrangements for his estate and other things.
It was while we were having the conversation over the sandwiches back at their home about his life that I realized death brings about things that we all need to dig deep for and find out about the ones we love. Doing this helps us appreciate their impact on our lives more and look back with fewer regrets.
I may have many regrets now that I didn’t know more about such a good man but I do know now my apprechation for all that he has done will go on til the day I die.
Is it seriously necessary to take away the audio for someone who created a video about a personal relationship? Come on. 144 views. Really? Then the hip hop song I replaced it with ruined the whole video.
This is my first St. Patrick’s Day after discovering my Irish Heritage a few months ago. I wish I could go to a parade but the only thing I can do is have a Guinness at lunch so I thought I’d share some Irish things on the web log.
Favorite Flogging Molly Song- “If I ever leave this world alive” (Think he’s singing from the prospective of a dog. He says “I’ll come and sit by your feet tonight,” so it’s either that or he’s just got a foot fetish. Great song either way.)
Guinness St. Patrick’s Day official holiday petition.
Just looking at St. Patrick’s day videos on YouTube and Fred had a video. Gets old quick with the high pitched voice as usual.
Forgot John Mayer had a song about today. It would make for a good John Mayer Trio piece.
Sorry there isn’t much more, like I said, just discovered my heritage a few months ago. Happy St. Patrick’s Day.
On the eliptical in the WRAC so I apologize for misspellings and typos.
Thoughts while on the eliptical:
Need to wash workout clothes.
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Bluegrass covers of Jack Johnson make for great workout music
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Brando- it’s got electrolites.
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I’ve only gone a mile?
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Why are there sheets hanging by a clothes wire in the Alumni Plaza?
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Seeing people not slow down for the big speedbump is funny. Hopefully they don’t have any hot coffee in their lap.
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I drank too much coffee this morning…
As a young dorky kid with a bowl cut in the sixth grade, I went to Space Camp. I still remember being in mission control for our big shuttle mission and living up every second of it. I would consider myself a bit less of a nerd today but I still have space pictures in my room back home and the binder from when I created my rocket agency (did I mention I was a dork?). So it is not surprising that I follow NASA twitter updates and am looking forward to the space shuttle Discovery launch tonight.
I was checking my Google Reader earlier and stubled upon this video of Google Earth’s maps of Mars after reading about the 174th birthday of the famous Italian astronomer and cartographer Giovanni Schiaparelli.
The Mars addition to the Google Earth software is so interesting because it shows the tracks of all the landers that have been on the planet and a lot of other information.
When I rhyme in poetry it usually doesn’t turn out too great but here is a recent stab at it.
The mother waits by the phone,
Desperately wanting to hear his voice.
His deep masculine yet still adolescent
tone,
Gone for many months of his own choice.
The flag he wears on his arm,
Waves outside her door.
Causing her to miss his Charm,
And spite Bush’s war.
She takes pills to numb the many pains,
Yet it never wains.
Her heart is beating so she knows she’s alive,
But without hearing from her soldier she takes a dive.
Plummeting into a deep abyss,
She wonders what he might miss;
Maybe a kiss,
Or a his favorite dish?
But she still has that one wish.
Tears flood her room,
Seemingly taking her to a watery tomb.
But childhood memories serve as a preserver,
Keeping her safe from a psychological murder.
The piercing ring of the phone nearby,
Sends a jolt up from her spine.
Pressing it close to her ear,
She says hello and his baritone voice responds with a hi.
So it’s been way to long since I’ve posted last but I’ve barely had time to breath, much less write something worth reading but I’ll be working on something soon.
Until then, check out my twitter page (twitter.com/codybourque).
Being a person who loves the background of a story, I just realized that I can not remember the last time I read an introduction before a couple of days ago. I find this so fascinating because the introduction sets the tempo like in a piece of music, setting the foundation for what follows but allows for variation. Here is the sound track I see as my life.
The guitar riffs of “Delta Blues” strong enough to shatter glass and harmonica musings to add complex layers of emotion describes my childhood. The times were trying not because my family was struggling to get by because I never missed a meal and I will be eternally grateful for that but it was the emotional hardships that capture that raw emotion of “Delta Blues” and my grandmother was my guitar that created my future’s potential.
She made me a little naïve because she believed in me so strongly but I do not think it’s a bad thing. She built me into a person that thinks the best of people and installed in me the mindset that “everything is going to be alright.” No other music convinces me that everything’s going to work out for the best like reggae music.
You can’t help but picturing a beach and your favorite drink while the same pulsating up-beat keeps your mind from diving into the negative.
But the difference from being ignorant to the world around you and hopelessly hopeful is a thin steel beam on a skyscraper to walk and the only way to characterize that is Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue”. Each brush with falling brings a rush to evaluate and make sure you’ve got some kind of harness to make it out alive.
For most that’s love, so what if it’s the reason some fall off anyway (The Cure’s records are an example), it’s what brings out the true person in us all. Having the love for someone or something to give it your all inspires beauty in all that you do. I can not picture a better sound to epitomize love than jazz, always allowing for the players to improvise but always committing to the idea of the piece.
Posted by codywb 
Posted by codywb 
Posted by codywb 
