The holidays can be a difficult time for all of us, but
especially for those of us getting a little older and (hopefully) wiser. One of
the things I do to break out of the funk that usually hits me between
Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day is watch a lot of schmaltzy movies on Lifetime
and the Hallmark Channel and soak up the happy endings.
I lost my mom twelve years ago. She went into a coma on
Thanksgiving Day, and died about two weeks later. That first year, all of us
kids—eight of us—got together at my dad’s house and to say it was subdued would
be an understatement. But eventually, like all things do, the open wound
scabbed over and now we can all get together and tell stories about how much
she loved the holidays without the tears falling. I always did like bittersweet
chocolate…
Anyway, the reason I tell you this is that events like this
have inspired my writing. Don’t get me wrong, I love reading about a guy who
meets the love of his life, falls madly truly deeply in that first day and he
and Mr. Right make passionate love on every surface of the house and ride off
into the sunset together. That is all of our dream, right?
But the stories I write and the characters that fill them,
they aren’t those guys. They are the people who lose, who hurt, but who never
get up. They don’t believe in happily ever after. They might have bruises and
scars, but they believe, at heart, people are good and there’s a somebody
special for them out there. You know my guys down, and they stand up and lick
the blood off their split lip, shrug the pain off and take a step forward.
That’s what real life is like. And I think we all respect
and admire people who are like that. People like Mark Jennings, in my book
Second Chances. Come meet him…
October 2000
I wondered if praying that she wouldn’t pull out of this
episode made me a terrible son. I didn’t dare breathe a word of that to
anybody, but fuck it, I could stand here and by God take a minute to suffer and
let my heart bleed in private. Pull all the jagged pieces of my soul together
and cobble them into something resembling the man everybody knew as Mark
Jennings before I had to go in and be
him.
But after a few minutes and a few more deep breaths, I
pulled it together. Took the piece of me that was the good son, attached it to
the responsible work Mark, the peacemaker brother, the single gay man pieces.
Looked at all the parts tiredly, and once they fit into something that
approached a whole man, I slipped back into my skin. I took a deep breath and
opened the door to Mom’s room.
Dad was there. It may have been too early for any of my
brothers and sisters, but that was almost a relief. Today it would be nice just
to have some time with him while I still felt so tired and raw.
“It’s good to see you, son.” He hugged me and eyed the sack
I brought in from Huey’s. He loved the beignets and the muffaletta sandwiches
I’d gotten into the habit of picking up for our dinner.
I handed him the bag. “You too, Dad. Looks like everything’s
about the same here, huh? Thought I’d come and keep you company.”
“But I know you’re tired. I told you to go home after work
and I’d call you if anything changed,” he fussed as he dug around in the bag.
“Just hush and eat. Where is everybody?” I plopped down in a
chair and kicked my shoes off. I’d been at this damn hospital enough to know
how to make myself comfortable.
“You’re it right now.” He plowed into the food like a hungry
bear, and I knew he’d probably skipped lunch to sit with her. Again. “Patty was
here earlier, and Robert. Said he and Jennifer’d be back tonight. The doctor
was in today, said she may wake up tomorrow some time.”
I didn’t want to talk about that right now. More than
anything, that subject threatened the fragile internal balance I’d forged, so
we talked about little crap. What my day’d been like. What had to be done
around the house when he made it back there.
But we also slid in some of the more important things, too.
How was he holding up. Was I okay. Had I heard from Brian. Things he would
share with me, the responsible son. My brothers and sisters, while I loved
them, always made everything such fucking drama, and found reasons to let me
handle the hard things. You know, since I didn’t have kids and a wife, or a
husband, or a boyfriend. At least that’s what Brenda and Sam and Linda thought.
Robert and Patti, at least, pitched in as best they could.
But it was also our way to ignore the big things without
telling each other to fuck off.
Go home,” he finally sighed. “Get some sleep. I don’t want
to have to visit you in the hospital, too. You aren’t doing her any good
wearing yourself out like this.” He turned that look on me that still made me
want to give up my secrets like I did when I was a kid.
“Backatcha old man,” I shot back. “You know she’s gonna peel
the hide off you for not taking care of yourself. And then it’s me that’s gonna
catch hell for letting you stay here too long. Go home and take a shower, feed
that damn cat of hers.”
“Shut the fuck up and don’t let the door hit ya where the
good Lord split ya.” He smiled. I love
you, son.
“Hush up, you dirty old man.” I grinned back at him, using
Mom’s favorite admonition. I love you,
too, Daddy.
Good Southern boys always made everyone at ease and happy.
Who were we to fight what was in our blood? We were pleasant, manly, and only
said the hard things and showed our emotions, man to man, when we
abso-fucking-lutely had to. But finally, I hugged my old man and took him by
surprise when I kissed his cheek and left.
7 comments:
Really enjoyed the excerpt. Not very easy to express love to those closest to us at times, especially when we're adults.
Thanks for the contest!
strive4bst(At) yahoo(Dot) com
Such a lot of emotion in the excerpt.
Would love to be included in draw
Suze
Littlesuze@hotmail.com
Such a sweet and touching excerpt. Thank you! Please include me.
brendurbanist at gmail dot com
Sounds like a great book. Loved the excerpt. Please count me in. Thanks!
Great excerpt. I love watching movies this time of the year as well.
debby236 at gmail dot com
Wow... great excerpt!
Please count me in!!
Judi
arella3173_loveless@yahoo(dot)com
Oh, this looks lovely! Hard to miss the TV movies, since they're re-aired so often...
vitajex(at)aol(dot)com
Post a Comment