10th June 2021
My Dear Cousin,
The process of writing these is taking a lot out of me. It hurts to go over these old memories but I need to get it done. I need to bleed it out of myself and so here I am bleeding. With every letter I read the letters I’ve sent and try to normalize myself to the memories. I try to look at the pain and live with it.
Where were we? (Pickle) had suffered acts of violence against me and my sister was off with her husband pulling the strings on his life. Then (Yule) passed away.
I got a text from (Pony Girl) telling me he had a heart attack and I responded with “I was told to leave and never come back, and nothing will change that.” Then she told me that he had died in a text message. She told me the old man died by text. I still can’t get over that.
I wanted to call her and tell her how rude that was but then I guess it wouldn’t have mattered in the end. What was done was done and it wasn’t time to rub salt in the wound.
He was gone and that was that. I couldn’t cry for the old man. I mean, he treated me as if all his problems were my fault and that his life would be better had I never been born. He never really tried to reach out to me or make things right. He just kept pretending that he was the perfect father and that I was not worth his time.
I went to work that night and a small owl visited me at the homeless shelter. I was guarding the front gate and sitting alone in the darkness with almost everyone having come in for the night. I was alone with the owl and we looked at each other with some understanding.
I want to believe that owl was the old man’s spirit coming to make peace. I want to believe that, but I don’t. I believe that was a burrowing owl who can down and though I looked interesting. Truth is that the more I say that owl was the old man’s spirit the more a part of my mind thinks it and it does make me feel better.
Best,
Richard Leland Neal
No comments:
Post a Comment