Chasing the sunset

How many times do you wake up in the middle of the night and wonder where your at?  Of course since these are my words most of you would assume that alcohol found its way into my bloodstream.  While the river may flow with some Cabernet Sauvignon, these days its probably a monster Syrah.  With that established, I think its time to establish that waking up in the middle of the night is the norm for me.  

At one point in my life this usually meant waking up in a new town, a new hotel, an old room, sometimes I could see the light from the street lamp coming through the windows and at times the room was dark enough to hide from the world.  These days I don’t care to hide.  I don’t care to walk the streets with a crutch, the terms of my days are based on the scars of the heart.  For some reason they just aren’t negotiable.

A couple of nights ago stayed up watching the web-cast fiasco in Austin about the abortion bill.  While my political stance for the most part is neutral, this one goosed me to a point of a radiation burst from the sun.  Why?  Was the first question, why is this even a vote?  Who?  This was the second question, who do these people think they are to challenge a law that is of the land?  Maybe I am naive, but what I am not is tired of the sunrise.  

My two cents, first an open comment to who this applies, “Sorry I don’t remember inviting you into my house.  Certainly don’t remember inviting you into the bedroom.”  Second, “If you cheat, doctor, steal, you go to jail!  So why are the parties that doctored a PUBLIC record not going to jail?”  Maybe if I had a wood nickel this would mean something.  Quick some one give me three more pennies so I can make change.

Part Deux of web-casting.  Lost a dear friend and watching friends reminisce about yesterday evoked tears of joy and sorrow.  A great glass of wine to toast a life.  A moment to remind the soul of screaming at the TV because God only knows the ‘retarded growth’ of the Cowboys on that day was just a small wonder in this life.  Time did fade away but Mr. Mark Garza your memory will always shine like a beacon that will die. 

Had a conversation where my silence was required.  Great job because with the twist and turns of fate you are one.  One who can make this soul realize that life is grander than the picture.  Not knowing whats on the other side of a dark corridor can scare you straight.  Chasing the sun from sun up to sun down might leave you breathless.  It will also teach you to open your heart and fly.

A simple phone call to hear your voice.  Someone sitting having a glass of wine and you realize the absence.  Can you scream?  Can you scream in absentia?  Why scream when you can stare?  The sunset will always remind you that you have seen it before.  “Don’t be afraid of your sunset!”  I won’t.

Today my heart hurts.  Today I don’t think I can reach my sunset.  But I can scream at my sunrise.  Today I hope the rain drops come.  Its easier to hide the tears.  In the middle of the night when I wake up, I don’t have to search my heart because you found me. 

Of course I can always close the blinds.  Nah.  To easy, would rather sit and take some time off from that emotion and watch the sunset.  When the dust settles and the river water meets the ocean remember that the mind is only expensive if you let it get away from you.  So sit back hold my hand and live!

For the record, the only great thing this week was, meanwhile back at the farm, our Supreme Court actually got something right for the first time.  Power to the people!  Once in a while when you look over the horizon you do get to see the sunset.  When your heart drives up to a movie theater and you see someone walking and you want to scream to the world, “Yes!  She is with me!”  or “Yes!  He is with me!”  you can, everyday you can....

Written with a heavy heart and with the hope of life.  

Quien eres tu?

A long time ago I showed up at my grandparents house full of angst, pissed off at the world.  Hated the month of February like a person on the edge needs a cyanide pill.  At the time in less than two years I had lost my best friend to suicide and grandfather and cousin.  Life was just that, a moment, an hour, a minute, a second, it was just there.  The emotions of the day were bottled up inside to a point of anger and hatred.  

I walked in to the kitchen like I always had and there like Walter Matthau was my grandfather sitting in his chair that to this very day I refuse to sit in.  It has an owner.  My grandmother cooking him something and the charming and loving way in which they got along.  

She looked at me and immediately stated that obvious that I had lost quite a bit of weight and proceeded to make more food.  For his part my grandfather saw through me.  He read the anger in my eyes.  Here was a man that I cherished and idolized.  He was not my grandfather by blood, no matter a fact he was my step grandfather that was, is, will always be my grandfather.

His question was to the point.  “Que molesta tienes?”  It was simple, my anger of losing, my anger of not having the answer for my questions.  “When I die and go to heaven God and I need to have a serious conversation.  He has a lot of answers he needs to give me.  I have questions that need answers.”  The look on his face I will never forget.  Disgust!  Disbelief!  Without him saying it but his eyes burned a hole in my soul that day.

“Quien piensas que eres.  A Dios no se le pregunta cosas!  Eres una cinverguensa!”  He stood up and walked towards me and the only time that he ever sat in another chair happened at that moment.  He sat next to me, placed his hand on my leg and what he said next weights heavy inside of me.  He was and is MY Grandfather.

Since then my days have been a roller coaster of Life!   To fight for what is right for friends for strangers is imbedded inside of me.  Once I sat on a kitchen stool and listened to people whom I called friends to completely and recklessly call someone the most racist comments one could think.  No, I didn’t speak up.  I didn’t defend him.  I walked away with a candle of thought knowing the failure inside of me.

These changes, the plague that gestated inside of me boiled.  Memories of that moment etched in a soul that could not walk away from itself.  Yes at times I want to scream at the top of my lungs.  I want to be alone when this happens, that conversation for two with an empty cup of tea lingers.  As long as I don’t start answering my own questions my feeling is that crazy has not overcome me.  

A dear friend of mine passed last week.  Mark Garza was, is, will always be a man who walks a path of righteousness that no one will ever.  He much like my grandfather found life on his terms.  Losing a friend at such a young age is no different than losing  Baby Ruben before he could ever understand life.  I will hold that candle for them, I will let the candle wax burn my fingers, I will let it breath life.  

Mark sent me a message where he read something I wrote and explained to me that righteous was something that was inside of me.  That he was very proud of my writing.  The last time I saw him in New York was for lunch, during it he went further to tell me how proud of me he was.  I am heart broken with his passing.  

Then the words of another friend who lost his father ache inside of me.  And all I know how to say is that I am here for him.  I don’t have words that will make things better.  I don’t have the happy pill or the happy wine that will ease the pain.  

“El dia que tu sigas, la vida sigue.  Esperando razon, esperando porque, Mijo, no lo esperes.  Vive con el sueno de la sonrisa.  Vive porque todavia no sigues tu.  Llora si te duele el corazon.  Dios, el es el que cuida tu corazon cuando piensas que ya no puedes.”  

To my friends who have lost love ones.  My grandfather was a great man.  A man amongst kings.  A man who was righteous without ever realizing it.  When the day comes that God decides its my time, I won’t ask questions, instead I will search for this man who made the feelings inside of me live.  

For my Grandfather Manuel Benavidez who loved his family more than words can ever describe.  Gracias Abuelo.

Ricky