Needful Things from an Empty House

The house is almost empty. It was already empty with everything in it, but now it is really empty. What is left? An entertainment center and useless TV. Kitchen counters and cabinets all alone without their companion appliances. An empty computer desk, two antique sewing machines, some shelving, a doll house, and a rug. Of course there are the clutter piles that go into boxes…other than that, there is not much left. Just remnants of what once was a vibrant lovable livable home. That’s right…a home, not just a house.

I’m taking anything that isn’t nailed down and even some things that are. Ceiling fans, fluorescent lighting, built-in bookshelves…you name it. Things that weren’t with the house when “we” bought it are most certainly coming with me. I took artwork off the walls yesterday. Among them were four Salvador Dalí prints that had been hanging for years. One of my favorites is in a frame made out of old barn wood; rustic and rough. The Temptation of St. Anthony…



Temptation appears to St. Anthony “successively in the form of a horse in the foreground representing strength, sometimes also symbol of voluptuousness, and in the form of the elephant which follows it, carrying on its back the golden cup of lust in which a nude woman is standing precariously balanced on the fragile pedestal, a figure which emphasizes the erotic character of the composition.”- (http://dali.urvas.lt/page20.html). I understood the meanings behind the temptations, but I really got the picture because the elephants have these long, multi-jointed legs that in reality could never support the weight of the creature…and to me they look creepy.

The others are just as awesome…The Hallucinogenic Toreador, My Wife (Naked) Looking at her own Body, The Apotheosis of Homer.



I know these pictures are small. Look those up to see full scale…you can appreciate them then.

These pictures adorned my walls for many years. The pictures themselves are just posters, but they were framed by a frame shop. The frames probably cost 50 times more than what the posters cost. But they define a time where a home was being beautified; a home was being made into what “we” wanted it to be. Full of beautiful things to make it just what it was meant to be, a home. Other artwork I took down were drawings that I did back in the early ‘90s. One is of a tree nymph, naked and trapped in a tree, head thrown back, hair as leaves, arms in the air as limbs, in a landscape of grass and river. I did this drawing with crayons one night, playing with a black-light, mind in a fog. I did a lot of drawings that way…mind in a fog, that is. The other picture is hard to describe, but the main feature are eyes. Eyes and roots holding them steady. These two were framed for me as a present. Yet another attempt to make the house a home, a home to call our own.

Two other pictures were on the bathroom walls. These pictures were bought at an art symposium at Coolidge Park many years ago. This artist carved out her artwork on wood, in reverse, then pressed in ink the impression on paper. One, titled Bath Time, is of a dog in the tub. He is getting a bath and is depressed about the whole thing. Around the perimeter of the picture is printed, “Just when I smell really good, I have to take a bath. I lose my whole identity. My friends can’t find me for three days. Taking a bath ruins my social life.” The other one is titled What Fish Learn in School. It has a few fish listening to an older fish that says, “Don’t eat junk food. Rubber worms are junk food. Never eat anything on a string. Eat seaweed. Gulp lots of water.” These struck me as neat and I gladly paid the price at the time. I can’t wait till the artwork is hung up here at my new home.

Needful things. Things that we collect over the years because at the moment, we need them. According to a Stephen King story, you can lose your soul over some needful things. But most of these needful things are not needed at all. They just seem to be at the time. I feel that I did lose part of my soul because of needful things. My garage that had been a haven for so long most likely added to the build up of resentment towards me. The tools that were used so few and far in between, stored on shelves till the next use…deemed as unnecessary and not needed. Years and years of stuff, not all mine alone, but hers as well, built up and taking up empty space.

There are some things I won’t be taking. The kitchen cabinets and refrigerator surround…they’re staying. A gigantic non-working deep freezer…left behind. The brick patio made from free paving bricks…going to a neighbor. A deck built for a hot tub…I’m not taking that apart. Nearly-new double-paned argon gas filled windows…it’s a shame they have to stay. And some non-tangible things are staying as well. The ghost of a former life…I don’t want that coming with me. It can stay there and haunt whomever it wants whenever they move in. The echoing sounds of love and laughter that seeped into the walls and floors from a once happy couple and their two children, a result of that love and laughter, will one day emerge from within and bounce around inside…and will most likely join the new sounds of love and laughter from the new tenants, whoever they will be. Luckily for them, there won’t be any unknown raised voices that came from arguments or words of hatred. Those words were never uttered.

An empty house echoes. The sounds reverberate against the walls, ceilings and floors, creating an eerie sound that carpet and things that fill the rooms usually absorb and deaden. In the bathroom alone, the sounds in there are amplified as a result of the missing throw rugs. It amazes me of how different sounds are without things to deaden them. Even the artwork taken off the walls helped muffle the echoing sounds. My new place is quickly filling up with things. It is crazy how much stuff you can accumulate through the years. Several rooms have nothing but boxes upon boxes, stacked from wall to wall, waiting for me to open and distribute throughout. The echoes in here are slowly diminishing to a dull din with the opening of each box. Boxes filled with needful things that are truly needed, such as pots and pans, plates and bowels, cups and mugs. Needful things for entertainment, like books, movies, music and the like. Needful things such as clothes, towels, toiletries and toys. Things that make living possible. Then there are other needful things that just might not be needed at all. Yard sale stuff. Things that just take up space; space that could be filled with something truly needed after all.

A yard sale. That’s what I need. Lessen the accumulation a little bit. But keep the things that are truly needed, and even some things that are soul-stealing needed as well. Gotta keep the sound-deadening effects going on here…I don’t want to hear any ghosts that might have hitched a ride in a box or in a desk drawer, or latched on to a needful thing only to let go once inside my new place.

No…I don’t want to hear them at all.

Forever Music

Face Down by the Katie Todd Band is the background music randomly selected by iTunes right now. She is singing, “Peace of mind is all I want. I wanna make some time for wasting”. Sounds good to me; peace of mind and time for wasting makes sense. For your life to be at peace, your mind must be peaceful. Too much strife and worry needs to be replaced by a peaceful, easy feeling (ala The Eagles) in my mind right now. And there is no time for wasting. It seems that every minute of my day is occupied by something that has to be done. Work from early morning to late afternoon, take kids to bus stop and retrieve them from same, pack up stuff in boxes for moving from this Haunted Mansion…it leaves no time for just wasting. The only real relaxing time I get is sitting in front of this glowing screen, hand on the mouse or fingers tapping frantically on the keyboard, putting thoughts into things.

The music changes again. Enigma’s Out From the Deep is telling me, “That’s why we are here…to learn to love, to learn how to live…to avoid the mistake we made”. I know I made mistakes; mistakes that I am sure to do my best to avoid in the future. I thought I knew how to love and how to live. I’m sure I do, but a refresher course couldn’t hurt things at all. Love and life are things that need and also give daily reminders of just what they are and how to go about keeping them both functioning as they should. Love withers and dies without reassurance and affirmation from both sides of a relationship, and life just seems empty without the complimentary uplift that love can bring to it. Thinking about that right now…maybe that’s why I am here, where I am right now, to re-learn how to love, to once again learn how to live…and avoid the mistakes that got me to the here and now.

This music is soothing…I love listening to it while doing anything. Driving, working, writing; I listen to music 24/7. It has a way of imbedding its mood into you, searching around inside until it finds and melds with its mirror mood to move and groove you, to haunt and calm you. It attaches strings to your heart and places a time travel machine in your brain, takes you to places you’ve been and places you dream of. I love it. Music also remembers the who’s and where’s of your life. Certain songs and lyrics from songs remind you of good times, good friends, past love and future hope.

Forever will it be…Girl I Wanna Lay You Down by ALO…ring tone on my phone devoted to someone special. It was the song that drew me into that band, so that meaning will always be there too…I won’t give it away, won’t give it another meaning than what it means to me. I promise.

Forever it will be…Leave It by Yes…taking me back to my early teen years. MTV was only a few years old and they still played music videos. I didn’t have cable or even the massive satellite dishes that those with money had standing in their yards like a shrine to the heavens. I only saw this video while spending time with a friend who had the luxury of piped-in television. I remember the band members standing in a line, singing the song, and then the screen would stretch them in all directions and continue to do so throughout the song. The song links me to my first times of “funny cigarettes”, trying my hand at dipping snuff (more like practicing throwing up), and the giddy feeling of sneaking into R rated movies. Seeing boobies on the big screen…good times.

Forever it will be…Purple Rain by Prince…my ex loved (does she still?) this musical genius. Genius? Yes, I think he is. Others may think he is this prissy-pompadoured-midget of a man that just so happened to make the girls crazy. He may be that. But he is also a master of the musical arts. This song reminds me of another time as well…back to my very first Phish show in Knoxville back in ’93. I’ve mentioned it before, but here I go again. Not only did they play Rocky Top (for those Vols phreaks) but when the first strains of Purple Rain rode over the waves of revelers, the goose-bumps that had already been making my hair stand on end increased to where I thought the little hairs would be pushed out…and the look of complete and utter joy on her face. I like to think they won her heart that day. I know they already had mine.

Forever it will be…every song on Meddle by Pink Floyd and all early albums by The Moody Blues...LSD infused Greyhound bus trip to Kansas City, KS. Early a.m. dosing just as I got into my seat surrounded by other travelers who were, oh, so clueless about the journey I was about to take. Taking hits off my cigarette look-alike one-hitter walking on the streets near the bus stop in St. Louis during a layover, and actually getting away with it. I think I was too messed up to even care…everything was bliss. I think one young kid knew what was going on. He volunteered to make sure I got on the next bus when the time came. He even gave me a home-made lighter. Seeing the trees spin and dance as we speedily passed them on the highway, their arms slowly turning as we came up to them, then hurriedly throwing them the other way as we passed. Whew…what a trip that was.

Forever it will be…The Reason by Hoobastank…just recently learned to love (but not necessarily love to listen to) this song. I might be mistaking understanding for love, but it makes me think about me, my life, and the things that got me where I am this day. A single, mostly lonely, divorced man. It makes me look at reasons and why’s and how’s and what could have been and what to do in the future. Mainly what to do to avoid the past and what the reason is to make sure it doesn’t happen again. It speaks to me. It really does…

I'm not a perfect person
There's many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
That’s why I need you to hear

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I'm not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you

I once said that I will take with me to the grave the regret of what I lost. I would mourn that loss till the day I died. I meant it. That doesn’t mean that I will let it haunt me to the end of my days. But it will always be in my mind. Maybe not out in front for all to see. It will be hidden deep in the nether recesses for me to know and understand that the reason for me to make a change is because of what I had lost. I don’t ever want to lose that again, once it is found. It will become a part of who I am, just like my love of music.

Forever music. It will always be a part of me. I can’t help it. I’ve always loved it, I always will.

Ahhh…Lovin’ Cup by Phish. What a song to end this time in front of this glowing screen. “Oh, what a beautiful buzz…”

My Long Walk

I read a short story (not so short by any means…Stephen King’s short stories are looooong) called The Long Walk. It was about a competition that started on the east coast of America and finished, well…it finished wherever it finished. The rules were set by the U.S. Army. No lagging. No stopping. No outside interference. If your pace slowed down below the set pace for a period of time, you were out…and “out” in this race meant having your head blown off by a soldier. Oh yeah, the stakes were high in this race, but the winner and his family were assured to never want for anything else for the rest of their lives.

Of course, the race started with many contestants, but as in any race, there is only one winner. But at what cost? The “winner” in this story kept on walking, after the fanfare and loved ones tried to congratulate him on his success, he kept walking…the finish line was still up ahead, there was someone still walking ahead of him in his mind…his mind that had slowly gone mad over the hundreds of miles he had walked and the threat of being killed he had endured and had seen happen to the other contestants. The reader is led to believe that he kept walking until he collapsed on the ground and died from utter exhaustion.

I don’t mind a good walk. Walking is good for the body. It tones muscles, strengthens the heart, increases blood flow, keeps you in shape and feeling healthy, all without the strenuous impact that running puts on your feet and legs. In the long run, walking is better on the body. You get the exercise need while getting from point A to point Z.

I really think I am about to take a long walk myself. I have never liked running. In high school, we had to run a mile for P.E. There were boys who were running the mile in “record” time. Me? Sure, I broke records…records for the longest time ever. No, I don’t think I was ever last. There were boys who were fatter than me. But walking? I have always done that. I would walk for miles from my aunt’s house to work on a not-so-daily basis back in college. But this walk…I have never taken a walk like this one. I am not the kind of person who willingly walks away from anything.

To walk away from something or someone usually means you have turned your back on them. I have been walked away from myself and have seen my share of turned backsides. It doesn’t feel good. But it doesn’t always mean that the person is intentionally turning their back to you. It’s just that’s the side you see when they are walking away, going in another direction, a direction that possibly leads to a better situation for both parties. But they are still going “away”.

I’m not fairly excited about taking this walk. But I’m not too content with staying where I am, either. Although, where I am is not so bad. Where I am is this: a future parent to a child that I mentioned last time, a future co-parent with her mother. What’s so bad about that? Nothing…just that I am not strong enough. I can’t take on the responsibility of another child. Not now. I thought I could, but the realization that I am in no shape to do it, emotionally, financially, or physically…that realization has set in. I know that I said I was able to. I certainly am willing to. And now I’m about to do what I thought I could never do, something that I feel will make me less of a human, less of a man, less of a friend. I care about this woman and our daughter. I really do. In fact, I can say that I do have love for her. I have love for our child.

Rowan. That is her name…

I have been told by her mother that I have the choice to walk away. I never wanted to. I just know that it will probably be best for us all. For Rowan especially. Her mother and I…well, we will be ok. I know that Rowan will be ok. She has the largest village surrounding her and her mother. This village is full of love and protection for them both. I feel lucky to have met them and even have grown to love some of them.

Rowan’s mother (baby momma) has said that if I choose to walk away, communication will be cut off. She isn’t saying this to be mean. I believe that she is trying to protect all those involved. Herself…protected from being hurt with keeping up with a man she could have loved. Rowan…protected from the different life teachings and the inconsistency that a divided household can have (different rules for different places…kinda screws ‘em up, I think). Me…protected from having to see her progress and know that I walked away from what I see. That and leaving her mom is what would/will hurt me the most. Knowing that she is mine and I will have nothing at all to do with refining her into a young lady.

I hope to be notified of her birth. I hope to be able to see her, at least see a picture. Contrary to belief, I do care for them both. I care enough to see that the points made about my parenting skills are ringing true. Not that I am wrong, mind you, just too different from what baby momma agrees with. When kids are playing, or just being kids, the line in the sand from being playful to being unruly is across the room for me. That same line is right in front of her feet.

This walk will result in the loss of two beings that I do care about. I am not going into this lightly. Lots of thought (inner struggles and outer thoughts from caring parties) has gone into this decision. It is the hardest decision I have ever faced. On one side there is the knowledge that both of them will be just fine without me. Rowan’s mother is a strong woman, surrounded by strong, loving people who will not let her struggle with raising a child on her own. To those people I want to say that I really enjoyed getting to know you…R and M…M and S…TJMax…Char…Mtn. D (sweet woman)…who did I forget?...Tams…damn this hurts more than I realized. Please know that I do care and love y’all.

On the other side is the realization that I left her. I left them. I will not see her learn to walk, eat sloppy creamed peas, pull on cats’ tails, curiously open boxes. I won’t see her step onto a school bus, bring home a frog found at a pond, sit in a field of flowers. I won’t see her blush when talking about a boy, cry when in pain, laugh at a funny. I won’t see one single thing that fills your brain with memories. Memories is all you got, because each day that goes by, these things called kids change so much, grow a little bit more, and you had better remember because tomorrow won’t be the same as today.

(Just as a side note, and for an example…I saw my boy get on a school bus last week for the first time…at least the first time that I saw him get on one. He looked so big and grown up. Day by day by day…they pass so quickly.)

To Rowan…maybe your momma will read this to you one day or let you read it yourself…momma will explain the circumstances. It isn’t that I didn’t love you. It isn’t that I didn’t care. It is because of those reasons that I did what I did. Please forgive me.

This walk isn’t because I have found someone else and couldn’t care a less about “baby momma” and Rowan. I thought that I did find someone else. The connection that I felt and believed that she felt too was a real feeling that I hadn’t felt in a long time…that initial feeling of “wow!” that comes when you know that something is going on. With baby momma…sure I felt something, but we both knew that it wasn’t a “forever’ kind of thing. There was emotion, but it didn’t last long. I do care for her, I do have love for her, but I am not in love with her, nor is she with me.

With this person that I have grown to care for…there is this thing that I can’t describe. Whether or not she feels it too, I don’t know. I have asked her and she says that she does like me, loves to flirt with me, knows that I am a good man and would treat her right. But is that enough? I don’t know. I might not be able to find out either. She has three kids that I have grown to like too. They are good kids, and my kids like them as well. Like I said, I am not walking away because of finding an interest in someone else. I won’t be with this other woman, even though my heart is about to burst with an extreme “like” of her and her kids. Why? Because she is doing her own walk. They have moved away. They are in a place about ten hours away from here. Whether there is hope for us or not remains to be seen. But they are not going away forever. Whatever tears are shed over this “walk” are not shed for nothing…I do care for her so much. But the tears are for a sense of loss for the moment, not forever. With my “walk”, the tears are for sense of a loss for the rest of my life.

I had said before and I’ll say it again…I am not running away. I don’t like running. It is a walk that I am frightened about taking, but I feel that it is best for all. My back may be turned, but my head is facing backwards, hoping to catch a glimpse of what I am leaving behind, what soon will be the past, soon to be a future…a future full of love of life and learning for those left behind, but a future rife with regret and endless hope for the one walking away.

Some may say that this is an easy decision for me to make. “He’s taking the easy way out”. To those who may think that, I say, “A pox on you.” This is so not easy. Leaving someone is never easy. Ask my ex. Apparently it took her years to do it to me.

Last week, after meeting with baby momma to work out the details about my walk, as I was leaving after an emotional evening (I had several of them that week…I thought my head was going to explode and that there were no more tears in me left to cry…) and as we hugged for what may be the last time, she whispered in my ear, “Thank you.” I really didn’t have a clue as to what she was thanking me for (although deep down, and after she said why, I felt that maybe I did know) and so I asked, “What for?” “My baby”, is what she said. Funny. When she told me about being pregnant so many months ago, I thought that I had screwed her life up forever. She had told me about her aversion to kids. That she never wanted one. That they all looked the same (ugly). I know it takes two to make a baby, but for some reason, I thought that it was my fault, that I should-a, could-a, would-a…but that “thank you”…that told me that she was going to be all right.

I hope that I will be. I hope that my mind won’t constantly think about what is happening; about what I am leaving behind, with my body walking in one direction and what is left behind getting smaller and smaller in the distance behind me. I hope that I can live with this decision. I hope that I can accept it and move on. I won’t ever forget either of them. Baby momma recently told me via email that she was not sorry for meeting me, not sorry for getting pregnant, but that somehow my life would have been better without ever having met her. I replied just tonight that my life would have been screwed up whether I met her or not. It was going to happen anyway.

Right now it seems that my life is all about loss. I have lost so much, but I also have given so much. From September of last year, to the present and into what is to come…loss, loss, loss. I hope to gain once more. Dignity…I hope to get that back. Love…surely it is to come again. The ability to pay bills and have enough left to buy food and gas…hmmph…maybe one day. But I have gained something. I have learned to never take things for granted, for one day what you have will be gone. I have learned how to be more bold in trying to get what I want…I’m too old to play games (I am a shy person, so when I recently told an interest all about how I felt and then asked her how she felt, I took on the persona of a superhero, at least in my mind). But most of all I have learned that no matter what happens to me in this life, no matter what things keep beating me down, no matter if what happens makes sense or not…it is supposed to happen that way. It happens for a reason, whether I see it or not. When baby momma thanked me for her baby, I told her that maybe that is what I was supposed to do. Maybe that is why we met in the first place. If that is the reason, then I think that I did a pretty good job at doing exactly what I was supposed to do.

But this walk…if it is what I am supposed to do, I had better get to stretching my legs; make sure that my laces are tight to keep me from tripping up; try to determine the best direction to head; and remember the path that I have been on, because the former path is an indicator of what lies ahead…lots and lots of roots and stones to trip over.

It’s going to be a long and lonely walk.