Hello Old Friend!

Last night I was visited in my dreams by a familiar young man, it wasn't until I awoke around seven am and curled up to the dogs going over the dream in my head that I realized who he was. It was me around 14. It took awhile to realize that the sad eyes and skin made red by acne were mine, but there he was in my dream begging to be noticed. I suspect it was even more than that. You see that little guy went through alot.  He moved in with his dad and new step mother to find his world turned upside down. His fathers new wife smelled the weakness and effeminate behavior and turned her sights into if not straighting him out, at least making him appear to fit in. And fit in in Texas no less. This was a far cry from fitting in California, where it seemed easy to disappear. The spotlight of a new school and being the new kid had the same intensity as the Texas sun.

He had received lessons in how to walk, was forbidden to join choir or drama class and shoved into a pair of Wranglers for his first day of school, where no matter what he did he did not fit in but who cared because he did not fit in at home either. That little guy just dug deeper and deeper into his books, looking for a way out. I admire him because other teens may have considered another more permanent way out. He assumed that one day all of this would end. He faced verbal and mental abuse by his step mother and his father said nothing. She spied on him and finally forced him out of the closet. His father said nothing. This little guy had so many hopes and dreams for his life, this was surly a mistake, but it went on until he was abandoned by his father in a rent by the week apartment. In fairness to his dad (who is also mine), the original plan was that they were to move out together, but his father ended up trying to reconcile with his wife one last time and he apparently did not fit into that plan. He struggled with working and school, where he was failing miserably, and finally gave up. He called his mom and within 24 hours was on a plane headed for home.

Still no direction and no great ideas, he launched a plan. To become someone else entirely. Fueled by the anger at his father he decided much like any actor would to take on a new name. A stage name of sorts, but this was for a grander stage. The worlds stage. That is where this plucky little guy surrendered his life and mine began. I entered the Navy using my new name (which then became legal) and vowed never to look back. I didn't for quite awhile. Two years into my stint, I was reconciled with my father thanks to my new step mother, Doris. Still I tended not to look back. I had forgiven my dad and hoped that he had forgiven me (hey I was far from perfect). I then began the process of stumbling through this life. Oddly enough, and with much help of many of the amazing people who entered my life, I came to like myself. Then I came to love myself. I came to understand my spiritual side. I also forgot about loving myself and forgot about my spiritual side at some point.

Thanks to cancer I was reacquainted with both. Maybe the dream was brought on by the fact that friends from my past have been popping up lately. My old boss, Donn, My old assistant Lupita and most importantly to me my dear friend Blake.  And while I haven't actually seen or spoken to any of them just having them in my on line life is a comfort and a bit hope for me. But back to my younger self. Somehow I came to love myself, but never did love him. Perhaps he believed that he didn't deserve it. That maybe he wasn't lovable. What I was left with upon waking up this morning is that he is here and very much alive within me. He is also lonely and broken and in need of love. Some 30 years after his giving up his life for mine I finally am realizing that that is just not the way it works. His wounds are my wounds and in spite of the fact that I have come to love myself, I am realizing that I have not come to love all of myself. I suppose that some of this will start off with some forgiveness. In many ways he gave me a clean slate for the future and I have to look at what I have done with it and take responsibility for it, both the good and the bad. And most importantly I need to be grateful that this little guy was so remarkably strong. In spite of the sadness and wounds there was still a smile behind his eyes that carried on into my life. I also need to merge both lives and realize that what I am today is because of him. It strikes me as ironic that I was never confronted by him until after I faced cancer and learned that I was strong enough to face anything. Maybe the lesson here is that I am as strong as he is and always was.