My Dear Cousin - The Wedding

15^th May 2021

My Dear Cousin,

After all the letters I have sent, I suppose this brings us to (Pony Girl)’s wedding so many years ago. She had gotten money for college and I hadn’t. Now the old man was giving her thirty thousand dollars so she could move out and start a family.  I hear she found thirty thousand too little and then had him give her another thirty thousand on top of that.

Needles to say, after all the money she had cost me and all the pain I did not go to my (Pony Girl)’s wedding. This was a big deal to Uncle Allen at the time, he called himself Sid then, and he protested.

I hadn’t seen the man in more than twenty years, and he said he wanted to catch up, so I went and got my old high school yearbooks. (Pickle) and I, Allen and his family, all went to a pizza place, and he spent the time trying to get me to go to (Pony Girl)’s wedding.

I had been told to leave and never come back. I had been told that I would never get my part of my mother’s estate which was a fully paid for home in California not far from the heart of Los Angeles. Here was this woman trying to steal two hundred thousand dollars from me and I was supposed to go to her wedding?!

Old Allen held his guns till the end. He did everything he could to get me to go, but family was over for me. I remember my (Pony Girl) leaving a Hawaiian shirt, the dress for the wedding, for me if I changed my mind.  

(Pickle) would never forgive me for him having to pay another utility bill and my (Pony Girl) wouldn’t pay her part of the property tax for more than another ten years. Still, the family was far from done cutting into me. There is still more to come.

Best,

 

Richard Leland Neal

 

My Dear Cousin - We’re Trying to Help You

                                12^th May 2021

My Dear Cousin,

In my last letter I think we got up to two thousand and five or there about. More than fifteen years to go to get you up to date in the story of my family. Well, to be honest nothing of note happened this year, but we still have a ways to go.

In any case, I had the car I had owned for the eight years and the car owned by my old man. Neither car was in all that great shape, but the old man’s car was a lot newer. (Pony Girl) wanted the old man’s car to be her car that I paid for, and that didn’t go well with me so I got nothing but flack over having two cars.

The old man had begged me to take his car. He said he wanted me to drive his car. Then I drove his car, and in a day (Pony Girl) was pressing me over it. In a week the old man called and made me a deal, if my car wasn’t working in six months I was to get rid of it. Two weeks later he was screaming at me to get rid of my second car.

Mind you now that I was having money problems, because I hadn’t gotten the college funds given to my siblings and this was exactly why I didn’t want the old man’s car in the first place. I had even told him to trade it in and give me half the money he saved. He offered me two thousand dollars to get rid of my old car. I said no. I said no because I knew that the harder they tried to get me to do what they wanted giving in would only make it worse.

It was at that point I stopped paying for repairs to the old man’s car. He gave it to me with four bald tires and so I started having to pump up flats as the old things wore down. I had paid for two tires already, but the second two I was just done with.

The whole family pounded on me to get those tires replaced. They said, “You’re gonno’ kill yourself.” My older car had a bad sensor that made the car stop when it got too hot. It was three hundred dollars that I didn’t have to get it fixed.

One night I was working on my old car and (Pony Girl) and her boyfriend where just heckling me and heckling me. At one point my (Pony Girl)’s boyfriend even pinned me against the cabinets in the kitchen trying to convince me to get the old man’s car fixed. “We’re trying to help you,” he said, but was he?

Then (Pony Girl) came in with three nails, three nails just like for a crucifixion, and screamed that I was letting nails roll into the driveway. I screamed “hay” and went after her.

Her boyfriend grabbed me and started screaming “Don’t you touch her, Richard!”

My intention was to give her a piece of my mind, but that man putting his hands on me was the last straw. I fought him off and called the police. (Pony Girl) made her boyfriend wait outside and came in and apologized, but she had pushed me too far.

The police told her she had to leave the house for three days. The old man finally paid for his tires, but it wasn’t over.

Best,

 

Richard Leland Neal

 

The Pit

2^nd January 2013

Dear Cassi,

       

Pony Girl came again today as some interloper into my home. She, Pickles, and the fellow from across the street, Ken, were cleaning as I sat in my room with the kittens. I immerged to find that Ken had cleaned the mess of wood chips he had left in the back yard and that the kitchen floor had been mopped.

       

It comes to me that Pickles is a slob until Pony Girl arrives and my two siblings become more of a use together. Why all the interest in the state of my home now troubles me. I feel as if I’m watching them dig a pit to drop me into to fight some new beast they’ve found.

       

Pony Girl has always been one to do what she wishes, call it help, then demand twice the worth of her “service” as gratitude. Her version of ‘Help’ has always been so costly. Much as when Alan ‘gave’ me that old white car and then Pony Girl demanded my slavery for my accepting the thing. I had argued with them saying that I didn’t want the car, took it to shut them up, was heckled until I returned it to them, and they were angry with me.

       

This event prompted the old man to give his little girl thirty thousand dollars to move away from me. She got another thirty thousand after that from what I understand. The spooled never grow into people I guess. They just make their way in life as parasites. 

What an ugly world we live in that kindness can be a word be use to mask abuse. Then, when we look at the grand nature of things my little life is just an ugly place in an even worse world.

       

Whatever comes I will meet it was best I can. Whatever happens next I’ll take it like an adult. The fight will be hard, but what part of my life hasn’t been?

Stay safe, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

Ghost of Angry Memories

1^st of the year 2013

Dear Cassi,

         

In coming home I walked the cold hallways full of trash and junk to let the ghost of angry memories pass before making any attempt at work. What new horror could my family be planning for me? What can I do to protect myself?

         

I look at the mess and know that most of it is mine but also that I do the work assigned to Pickles day in and day out. If I had those ten hours back I spend over the weekend at washing dishes to address my own problems then I would make progress.

The dishes are his to do as I do the cooking and yet they are never done. As the kitchen sink is the only sink thanks to Pony Girl and her intervention into our construction I cannot wash my hands among the piles of crap and so must do his work before I can attend my own.

As my work room is littered with cups and such from my eating in front of the computer so is the kitchen table littered with remains of many of his meals. He found a place to keep his dog food on the kitchen floor.

It’s a battle here Cassi, a battle long fought but never won and I grow so weary of this nonsense. Still, I need to win the battle within myself before I can fight outside forces.

Win within, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

What to Do?

22^nd December 2012

Dear Cassi,

       

A man called me today wanting help with his twenty year old daughter. This is not to say that he called me but rather that he called my shelter hoping to find a way to impress upon his child the life of less fortunate folks. He did not tell me what sin she had committed that lead him to this idea, but I could tell he was at his whit’s end full of anger and frustration.

       

“This behavior needs to stop,” He said over and over. As a payment for this tour of the underworld he said he would buy groceries for the program. Mind that I start my shift at eleven in the evening and so this was the middle of the night. Normally, and by normally I mean during the day, I would refer this man to the donation department but the middle of the night is an inconvenient time for them.

       

I explained to this man that we can accommodate his need, but that he would need to call back during the AM hours. I told him what kind of program we run and what we do for the homeless. I further put forth that there were much poorer programs with less amenities, privacy, and lower quality food.

He then asked what he should do, and I was stunned by the request but made to answer him as best I could. I explained to this concerned father that he needed to take a stance of mutual respect because people you show no respect to will never properly respect you. He should make it clear that what he wants is not good because he wants it but because he honestly believes it is good for his child.

I told him he should be open to what she says and understanding. Further, I said that he should not expect her to change overnight but only to do better. Without knowing what she did I could only say so much.

In this world things are hard a family mending is tricky. I know this better than most as I have as little to do with my own family as possible. Sometimes we need to be strong and face the ugly truth. I know I did and it was the first real step to a better life.

Stay safe, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

Wandering

23^rd November 2012

Dear Cassi,

        
There is no dawn on the horizon as for the second day in a row Pickles fails to sleep. His paranoia as taken some rational hold over him and he thinks the voices are real.

       
He showered early today and retired only to wake again and wander the house looking for the voices that haunt him. I made chamomile tea and had him drink it with cream. Two glasses made him ready to try for slumber again but twenty minutes later he was up once more this time fully dressed. It was only moment until he returned to his wandering and looking for the sounds he knew only lived in his head.

        
This is a time that he should be somewhere safe and with folks who know how to handle these things. Normal people would call family at a time like this, but as that has never been an option for me I’m forced to see this along. Well, we greet the challenges as they come and live as best we can.

Live, little sister, live as best you can,

Richard Leland Neal

Leviathan’s Blush

7^Th September 2012

Dear Cassi,

       

Again the monster that would make leviathan blush was at my home today,

and again she spoke to me as if I had no reason to hold her in contempt. However, I was permitted the mercy of sleeping through most of her presents. It is as if I were encouraged to stand to the wall so that no one could see the knives they have put in my back or to put on a mask so the scars cannot be seen.

       

The questions I once held for the world of humanity now lie pulverized in the dust of things once standing. How can we stand to see those in the streets with no home covered with the filth of the world and suffering? How do children wander the night unlooked after? Why does the injustice of the world thrive when the better parts of the human spirit fall into disuse?

       

Because the human animal follows the path of least resistance and it is so easy to be cruel. Nature is cruel and we come from nature so our soul is cruel. Where in this world to we place the doers of evil? Well, we imprison them and put them about their thief fellows lorded over by other evil folks.

       

When Iron ore is put onto the fire is does not make steel. No the ore will turn to slag. We must add carbon to make steel of ore and so adding a thing that is not natural to make proper things. So, where is the carbon in prison? Guards, wardens, bars, rules, if it is there it is not enough to make iron from the slag of our society.

       

Further, to make stainless steel we must add nickel and such. To get what we want we must first look after the mix of things so well. To make strong mettle we most have the right elements. This is a simple idea. So then to make souls right we too need to bring together the right things.

       

Is my soul right? It mustn’t be for I have not had those things that makes a soul right put to me. Still, from slag can be made good steel, and from my soul can still be made a proper man.

Watch your pots, little sister

Richard Leland Neal

Pill! and What I Look Like

Okay, I'm just having a bad day so how about a joke to cheer you up? You can feel free to tell a joke to make me feel better.