Well this is my "first attempt" at blogging. Firstly, what a strange name choice for basically online journaling. I guess I'm just reaching out in to the vastness of the electronic world. I actually got the idea to start my own blog from Josh Partington of Something Corporate and Firecape. For anyone who doesn't know these bands - you should - they are both awesome. Unfortunately for Josh he comes in a very close second to my inspiration - Andrew McMahon of Something Corporate and Jacks Mannequin - again, if you don't know these bands - you should. Andrew is the lead vocalist of Something Corporate and Jacks Mannequin. His lyrics inspire me to look deeper and examine my reactions to the situations I have found myself in either by my own choice or by 'fortunate circumstance' - hence the blog title. It's very strange how this all came about; I stumbled across Something Corporate on an Internet radio site - idobi.com.
Anyway, they've only been in my CD collection for 3 1/2 years. I bought 'North' first and fell in love with that tenor voice mixed with the sweet sounds of an acoustic piano, amazing guitar riffs and the strong bass lines. When I first heard the piano, I was pleasantly shocked. It didn't sound like anything I had heard before which is why I loved it so much. Then the lyrics started to become clear, those words went deep and emotions I had been very successful in numbing came back to life. I felt a rush, no a surge that completely over took me and I cried. I cried for 3 very long hours. Truthfully, I don't even remember which song it was that started the waterfall that day, but I haven't been able to re-close up the dam. He has a tattoo on his wrist that states - 'The River is Everywhere.' It's from a book which I will look up later. This statement reminds of the day and every day since then. I'm not saying I've cried every day since, but the emotions are very close to the surface and are very hard to control.
Within two weeks I bought 'Leaving Through the Window' and all hell broke loose, the rains came down again and this time it flooded all the valleys and crashed through every possible obstacle. I was now face to face with all my demons, skeletons, and hidden books of despair. I was standing over this great lake it had created and was being pushed in head first. On the way down I accepted this fate and took a deep breathe and was immediately consumed by anger, hurt, and ultimately sadness for all the time and energy spent holding back these feelings.
I guess I should let you in on what happened to produce such immense feelings. When I was 11 years old, my parents came home from the doctor's office, sat my sisters and I down in the living room and told us our mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer and that she was going in to surgery in 3 days to have her left breast removed and she would be starting chemotherapy 2 days after. My father had taken the load of telling us and my sweet mother sat there as strong as she could be, her face blank and looking down. I remember this because I had never seen her in state before. She always seemed happy even when you knew she wasn't.
Anyway, she had the surgery and we thought everything went well, the doctors were beyond optimistic. She started the chemo as scheduled and proceeded to become weak, tried, and eventually started to lose her hair. She didn't let this get her down; she was still upbeat and happy to have a second chance. Then, a year later in the winter, she slipped on an ice patch outside our house and falling she bruised her ribs. My father took her back to the hospital; they took x-rays and found it ... Everywhere. It was in all major organs except her heart and her lungs, her doctor hung his head as he broke this news to her and my father.
This time at 12 years old, having been through this before, I thought cancer is not the enemy; we've done this before we can do it again. I asked when she was going back for surgery and was blown away by my fathers answer - we're not - it's already to far gone. As I sat there and tried to understand, I felt them coming burning behind my eyes and making my sinuses hurt. I forced them back to their hiding place and resolved I would not let this happen. We had done this before and we could do it again, if only they would fight. My mother in her sweet way took me in her arms as a fought her and held me until there was no fight left in me and I cried for her. She said she would try to be as strong as she could for us.
After that day, the feelings were officially turned off, disconnected completely and I was expecting the last bill at any moment. I watched her struggled to continue normal life, she still did the laundry, the ironing, the cleaning, cooking, baking, and all the other mom stuff housewives do. Gradually and consistently, the medication began to slow her down; she started taking naps in the afternoon. This progressed until she could hardly get out of bed. It was always worse after her treatments which she stayed over night for. I could never quite sleep those nights; I remember being 13 and being so tired. Then the addition happened, my father received a call from one of my uncles, my aunt had been diagnosed with leukemia. She was pretty far gone by the time they had figured out why she had been so tried and couldn't keep the colds away in the summer heat. She started treatments quickly and lost her battle after only 8 months.
This brought me back to reality, my reality the one I had been pushing farther and farther away. It came rushing back and hit me straight in the heart and I fell into the deepest hole I could find and stayed there, hiding from the world, my family, my friends, and truly the one person I should have been clinging to - my mother. I was going to lose her; she was not going to get better. So, I cut her off, I severed my heart from hers and became cold and numb to all feeling and emotion which could be described as caring. It would be easier this way ... when she leaves. These were the thoughts coursing though my veins as I watched my mother slowing die, disintegrate in to skin and bones, become the shell in which she would evaporate from up to the heavens and leave us behind. I had accepted this outcome when no one else had; everyone thought it was far too early to lose hope. I hadn't lost hope though, I had been taught by my parents that there was life after death and as long as I good I would see her again. However, this was faulty in its entirety because I am not and never will be perfect. Therefore, in my 14 year old mind, how could I ever live up to that? I felt punished by God for being the imperfect soul I was, he had abandoned me in the one time I needed him the most and he taking away my only real connection to him. How could a loving God, Heavenly Father do this? These were the subject of many questions I had that only he could answer and if he was real and in charge I wanted to ask him these questions face to face and I would wait until he called me home. In the meantime, I would close myself down, until that fateful day when I brought home a seemingly innocent CD home - 'North by Something Corporate'.