Wednesday, June 28, 2006
How Do YOU Spell SUCCESS?????
Is it getting to the bathroom just in time?
Is it by having a clean house for the first time in 5 years?
Is it by writing that perfect memoire and someone wants to publish it?
Or is it by remembering where you put your keys?
Or by getting through another hectic school year?
Is it by the car you drive?
The house that you live in?
The fact that you are married?
Full of dreams?
Having a dream come true?
When I first moved in with my boyfriend who later became my husband I became a 'Denmother' of sorts. He owned a house and all these guys lived with him. All these guys were in good paying jobs with corporate companies and me...
We at one time had four guys living in our three bedroom abode.
It was certainly an interesting time...
There was one guy Dr. Jekyl, in particular that had a love/hate realtionship with me.
You see the guy had a drinking problem. He could avoid drink for weeks but when he drank...
He was self destructive. And living in a house full of guys they thought the behaviour was odd... but none of them were going to get involved...
Well, one morning, I awoke early and found blood smeared across the hallway. At the entranceway to our house a wee pool of blood.
My boyfriend was showering when I made the grim discovery of blood.There was a mad scramble around the house due to the fact we were all embarking on a roadtrip/ wedding.
Mr. Jekyl meekly comes down the stairs. He has been beaten up. He has blood caked in his hair, he has a wound on his face from a guy who punched him with a big honking ring.
Now, I could bore you with all the details of our love/hate thing and how our fight really began there. I could point out that I just wouldn't let it go as I cleaned and dressed his wound.
I could point out that I called him a liar.
I called him a lot of things.
I could point out that I was the only one who got involved...
I got my hands dirty.
Everyone else just kinda said to lighten up and would retort that these things kinda happen...
Did not know what planet they were from.
From that day on, for four months we fought. He quit drinking to prove me wrong.
We fought continually. He hated me.
And I can not remember the litany of crap I put up with at the time but I put up with a lot.
All because I spoke up about his aloholism. It was the elephant in our house and for some unknown reason I cared.
He moved away. And I thought'Good Riddance'
And after a month or two he started calling..ME... Not any of the guys...Not his buddies... ME...
He would phone at ungodly hours(drunk) but somehow I knew I had to listen...
I would love to say there was an epiphany moment but there was none...
There was just me listening to him...
He then, decided to go on an adventure...He couldn't like life in our country or maybe he just couldn't find himself through the confines of our society, I have no idea.He has never said why, he does, what he does.
The man got on his bike and cycled from England to India.
No prep work. He just did it...
And from that day he has been travelling.
He only nurses one beer a month. Does not drink at all.
His last adventure was from Terra Del Fuego up to Alaska and across Canada all on bike.
He comes to visit on occasion.
And the last time he came he apologized for all he put me through.
He gave no excuses just an apology. And I gave him forgiveness.
He is now residing in Korea teaching English.
He is coming to stay with us in a few days.
And now when I think of him.
I think of Success...