Alone

I was living in Connecticut. 

I moved to Connecticut to work for Pratt & Whitney - aircraft engines. Pratt & Whitney invited me to interview. Pratt flew me out, all the (sarcasm) way from Syracuse. 

Plane goes up. Plane goes down. 

Crazy to think that there was once a scheduled commercial flight - Syracuse to Hartford. How did an airline make money doing that - crazy, short flight?

I’m dancing. I am dancing around my point. 

Avoidance…

I was working and living in Connecticut. I’d been there for maybe a little over one year. I bought a house with two Pratt co-workers, Partners. 

I felt large, like I was living large. 

I felt like I was making it, making my way in the world. I was doing what I was told I should do, what I was raised to do. I thought I was on my way. Living large. Doing good.

My Sister (living back home in Syracuse) called me on the landline / telephone.

Jim J (my Friend, dear, dear Friend) died, she told me. 

The rug went out from under my world. Tablecloth pulled, and the dishes don’t stay. Everything – smashed - - - mess on the floor.

Jim J killed himself. Jimmy J, he took his own life. 

A rip current pulled me out, way out, into the ocean. 

Alone. 

I have NEVER felt so - - - alone. 

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I have been alone this week. 

Home (no longer - a home) in Sarasota, working to sell a house. I have been trying to sell a  house that we own. Working to sell our house so that we can move our dream - forward.

Alone, I do not feel as alone as I did in the first story that I shared. 

But still, I do feel pretty damn lonely here without C and my boys (dogs). I miss My Pack.

I don’t dig too deep these days. I don’t dig so deep into the News. I don’t read as much News as I used to.

But one (News) item has grabbed my attention this past week. I have been obsessing over it.

The early death of an Artist, one very much familiar to me, but who I never followed too closely. 

The untimely (too young, too soon) death of Sinead O’Conner has struck a (hot) nerve.

And, a little bit, I feel a little bit swept away - again. That feeling coming back. Echo…

Back into that hole that I don’t think I will ever be able to fill. 

A hole in my heart. 

A rip to my soul.

All my words, all my stories. Everything I have said and written. 

One day, one day, I need to tell the story of my Friend, 

the Friend who left me - - - 

too young, too early

For All The Wrong Reasons.

One day I will tell the story of my Friend (gone, forever gone, but still forever my Friend) - Jimmy J.

<<<<<

I miss you Jimmy J.

You left me. 

You should be here with me, here with us, now, today.

Too early

Too soon

For - All - the - Wrong - reasons

<<<<<

Beautiful Dreamers

Don’t leave.

We need you.

Do you know someone who needs help? Do you need help? (Sometimes, we all need help. It’s OK, part of living / life.)

This is not a PSA, an after school special, a 30 second commercial plug.

I am not going to tell you to call a toll free number.

Do you know someone who is losing hope? Slipping???

(Not me. No really. I’m sharing. I am talking to you. Cathartic. Cathartism? I think that is my religion. Sharing. Over sharing? When I go quiet, then worry.) 

Look at me. Look at me. Look at me… I am OK. I am fine.

But if you know someone. Someone who is slippling.

Go to them. Hold their hand. Draw them out. Entice talk. 

I do not blame myself. And, at the same time, twenty twenty hindsight - if I could go back, I would do some things different.

Sit with someone. Talk good. 

Look around you. There are many people, barely afloat. People adrift.

Sadly - - - they are everywhere.

Toss a life buoy into the Ocean.

We love you. We need you - Beautiful Dreamers. 

Don’t go. 

Don’t go.

Now more than ever.

We NEED YOU.

<<<<<

Photo: That is me, at the beach in the Winter of 1988, after my Friend left. Feeling very much, alone.