Starting a blog is easier than maintaining it, it seems... but it's wonderful to know that people actually read what I write. Currently, I'm recovering from a day of being sick after a night of drinking too much. Yes, I know that it's stupid, but I needed to be stupid. More on that in a minute. I'm listening to Eric Clapton belt out "Change The World" and I feel inspired to post the lyrics here, and dedicate them to Jackie, of course. Read them carefully.
If I can reach the stars,
Pull one down for you,
Shine it on my heart
So you could see the truth:
That this love I have inside
Is everything it seems.
But for now I find
It’s only in my dreams.
And I can change the world,
I will be the sunlight in your universe.
You would think my love was really something good,
Baby if I could change the world.
And if I could be king,
Even for a day,
I’d take you as my queen;
I’d have it no other way.
And our love would rule
This kingdom we had made.
Till then I’d be a fool,
Wishing for the day...
That I can change the world,
I would be the sunlight in your universe.
You would think my love was really something good,
Baby if I could change the world.
Baby if I could change the world.
I could change the world,
I would be the sunlight in your universe.
You would think my love was really something good,
Baby if I could change the world.
Baby if I could change the world.
Baby if I could change the world.
Sometimes I'm grateful for little things like thinking about Mr. Clapton and the hardships that he suffered losing his son. I'm a little jealous about how well he's used that pain to bring a certain bittersweet quality to his music. Me, I tend to be more overwhelmed by my pain.
What am I talking about? Well, October 21st is an example of a "BAD" anniversary for me. In 1988 I was a very young man married to my first wife and our newborn daughter. I was awakened by my wife's twelve year old brother who lived in the apartment next door. He was pounding on our front door and wanted to use the fire extinguisher we kept next to our stove. I called 911 to report a fire of "unknown size," pulled on a pair of jeans and my pajama top and rushed out to find an inferno. My wife's mother and brother were with her outside crying and screaming that my wife's younger sister and niece were still trapped in the back bedroom. Without thinking I ran into the kitchen. The linoleum had begun to melt and I burned both my feet. I couldn't see so I dropped to my hands and burned both palms. I couldn't get to the back of the apartment.
Only someone who's been in a burning building could possibly understand what it was like. The sound was like listening to the screams of hell. A hauntingly alive rushing of heated air, crackling and almost human screaching of the oxygen being sucked from the air. It haunts my dreams to this day. Trying to crawl through the doorway of the dining room I burned the side of my face and singed my hair. The heat coming from the back of the apartment, fully engulfed, was too much. I was actually thrown back and my ex-wife claimed seeing me actually back flip out of the apartment. I was a three hundred pound, six-foot-one inch tall man. I don't do those kinds of things. Still, I made it out and ran, with the rest of my family, around to the back of the building.
The back window was closed tight and a policeman, who had just arrived, broke it with his flashlight. The pitch black smoke and heat that belched out prevented any of us from getting in. At that moment, the volunteer fire department arrived. Also, at that time, I realized that my sister-in-law wasn't in the bedroom at all, but outside with us. That left only my three year old niece trapped in the apartment. Needless to say, when the fire department finally got to her it was too late. She was gone.
My ex-wife kept screaming and crying, "the baby is still in there, she's still there."
Trying to console her I could just say over and over, "I know, I know."
That's when she grabbed me, looked into my eyes and said, "NO, OUR BABY!"
I suddenly realized that our daughter was still asleep in her crib in our apartment, next door. I ran back around to the front of the building. By then the fire had begun to spread and our front porch was on fire. I ran through the flames and into our apartment. Luckily, the flames hadn't reached the inside, yet, but it was filling with smoke. I scooped my daughter up in a blanket and rushed, too fast, back out of the apartment. I stumbled on my already burned feet and hit the railing, burning my stomach in the process. I fell over and realized that I was going to land on the street outside on top of my daughter.
Okay, at this point I'll apologize for making the whole thing sound totally "fantastic" but I can't change the fact that it's really what happened. In mid-air, something "shoved" me so that I was able to twist and land on my right shoulder, tuck, roll and come up running. I know that my daughter's guardian angel was watching out for us both.
Rachel, my three year old niece, was pronounced DOA at the Community Hospital near our apartment building. She died from extreme exposure to smoke and was buried three days later. I've never forgotten her and I never will. My ex-wife and her mother called me a coward and, to this day, blame me for not being able to reach her. Unfortunately, it plays perfectly into my already fragile self-opinion that I'm trying to repair. I don't actually feel I'm to blame. I just wonder if I did everything possible.
So, around every October 21st I can look forward to some pretty graphic nightmares that have been reoccuring for the last sixteen years. And, on the day, I cry a lot, panic a little and get blind, stinking drunk to push away the pain. It's not a good way to deal with it, I know, but it's worked for sixteen years. When I find the magic potion that allows me to smile and say, "It's no big deal." I'll let you know.
What did I learn from the whole thing? I'll tell you.
1. God isn't ready to release me from my lease in this mortal shell. Until then, I keep my eyes and ears open for the work I was meant for. I have faith that it's worth the wait.
2. The woman that I was created for is sitting behind me while I type this smiling her pretty smile and reminding me, by her mere presence, that I have so many blessings to be thankful for.
3. Miracles happen and angels exist. Scoff, criticize, disagree with me if you want to. I don't give a flying whit what you think. What happened to me changed my life. I don't ever want to feel that I have to face life alone. Nope, that would simply push me over the precipice I look beyond every day.
Today I got a wonderfully poignant comment on my, Pride and Prejudice blog, from an anonymous person who simply said, "I'm sorry I missed the comments others thought offensive, it would have been interesting to say the least and maybe I could have appreciated your life history that much more. Good luck."
Well, that just makes my day. I hope this gives you a little of that insight, Anonymous. Please keep reading and I'll have some laughs for you next time. I promise.
