Chills and the Warmth from Within

(I started this on Monday and finished up on Wednesday…doing a little time traveling here.)

“When all is said and done, friendship is the only trustworthy fabric of the affections. So called love is a delirious inhuman state of mind; when hot it substitutes indulgence for fair play; when cold it is cruel, but friendship is warmth in cold, firm ground in a bog”- Miles Franklin

I’m cold. I’m in my house and I feel frigid. I’ve got a freakin’ coat on, for crying out loud. I do like the cold, but when I can’t shake the chill from my bones, that’s about enough. Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing better than to see your breath in the chilly air, bundling up in a favorite coat or jacket and talking a walk in the brisk air. But to be cold inside your own house? Nope. Nonetheless, I haven’t turned on the heat here. I’m trying to hold out as long as possible. I do know that when my kids come back this week, I just might have to suck it up and turn it on. I don’t want them to be cold. The guy who lived here last told me that I should expect anywhere from $250 to $300 electric bill in the winter while using the electric furnace. Great. Just freakin’ great.

Every morning since I moved into this place, there has been a great amount of condensation on my bus. This morning, that condensation had turned to ice. The windshield wipers were stuck for a moment then started moving over frozen dew on the windshield. The scraping sound it made as it moved over the icy coating reminded me of fingernails on chalkboard and it gave the same spine-chilling effect. I tried moving the heat directional cable to defrost, but it moved a few inches and then stopped. Oh yeah, I forgot about the broken heater cable. The one that opens the heater flap on the left side heater box had snapped a few days ago. The right one hooks over the end of the left one and when I tried to increase the heat flow, jams occurred under the dash, making both levers catch on each other. So I had little to no flow of heat and couldn’t choose where to make it flow. Finally, enough heat was leaking through the holes in the dash to create peepholes, at least enough to see the road to drive. (Note: last night at my buddy’s house, I zip tied the heater flaps open so there is a constant flow of heat. The afternoons are not so cold, so I just roll the windows down to even out the temperature. Winter is coming though, so I am ready).

Then there was my gas tank. The sending unit in the tank must be damaged, because when I get down to about ½ tank, the needle starts to move all over the place, then drop to empty. When I take a sharp right hand turn, the needle moves up to about where it should be, but then slowly starts heading back down again. On left hand turns, it drops below empty. So I never really know how much gas I have. Going by mileage doesn’t help much either. I always forget to check the odometer after putting gas in. This morning, the needle wouldn’t even float. I figured I only had a few gallons in there, hopefully enough to get me to work. Once I got there, I could figure something out. I had to borrow money from my boss one week, and if I had to do it again, well…I was going to suck up and do it again. Turns out I didn’t have to. At work (I did make it!) and in a conversation with a friend of mine, I told him I was tired. I had been literally falling asleep standing up doing my job. He said to find a dark place and take a nap. I jokingly told him it was a good idea, since I was probably going to have to spend the night there if I was to work the next day. Well, he talked to another friend of mine who came over and told me to stop by his house after work and he would put some gas in my bus. I protested, but he says that I have done so much for him over the past 10 years or so, he feels like he owes me. The first friend came over later and tried to hand me $10, but I wouldn’t take it. I found it in my jacket pocket later while leaving work. Friends, I tell ya…sometimes they work to move my heart. They didn’t have to do that.

I hate that I’m in the situation where they even think about doing stuff like that. It hit me hard after the offer for gas. I put down the tube that I was sanding, walked out the back door, leaned against the building and cried. I couldn’t stop it. I don’t know what it was. I think I was mad at myself for being in the situation that I was in. But another thing was this; I was getting what I had asked for. I had literally prayed to make it to work. I did. I also asked for some way to get some money for gas to make it to work and home for the rest of the week. I got that too. Not only were those damn tears ones of sadness; they were tears of joy as well. I got what I had asked for and I realized that.

The night before was my VW club’s meeting at China Moon restaurant. I didn’t have money to eat, so I sat there while everyone else ate. That wasn’t too bad. I’ve done it before. But I was hungry. I got up and left several times just to get away from the food. I love Chinese food, and to be surrounded by plate after plate of food that I really wanted and know that I wasn’t going to eat any, well, it was hard to sit there. The smells, the sounds of others eating…it was too much. Again with the friends. One couple’s daughter got way too much chicken for her to eat, and she had it sitting right there next to me, tempting me to snatch up a piece, dip it in some of that red dipping sauce, and stuff it in my mouth. It was food that was going to be thrown away. I snatched up a piece and popped it in my mouth. The dad, who was sitting across from me, told me to eat the whole plate if I wanted to. But I hadn’t paid to eat, so essentially, it would have been stealing. He said that he paid for it, so no, it wasn’t. The establishment wouldn’t have seen it that way, but it did make sense. I got a plate of sweet and sour chicken…something in my belly after all. I was grateful. On the way out, I grabbed a fortune cookie. I usually get two of them, just so I can have a multiple choice fortune, but this time I only got one. I opened it up and read words that rang true that evening and the next day. It said, “Rely on friends to make future hard decisions”.

I won’t be like this forever. Things have got to get better. I am selling things off to make it possible, even selling precious things in order to have a buffer zone and to not have to worry about money from week to week. The biggest thing I have to sell is also the hardest for me to let go. I am going to sell my VW camper. It was the first VW I had bought and it has enormous sentimental value. I once said that I would sell my house before I would sell Sweetpea. Well, I’m not selling my house (ha ha ha) but Sweetpea is going anyway. I will survive, I’m sure. I’m not looking forward to handing over the keys at any rate. It will most likely be an emotional transaction.

I don’t ask others for help. I just don’t do it. I am not above doing it, but I don’t like doing it. Call it pride or call it what you like. I don’t like relying on others if I can do something myself. But there comes a time when I realize that I can’t do it myself. That’s when the outer skin of pride covering this broken man’s body slides off and opens the way for the humble man inside to reach out to friends, to reach out to others, to bow his head and reach out to God. That is something I don’t do enough of. I’m not the best example of a Christian…I’m not a bible-thumper (ahem), but there is one thing that is true about me. I do believe. I may not go to church every week. I may not sit up in the front row with my eager face on, letting every word soak into my brain…but I do believe. I’m not a narrow minded imp. I know there are other religions and no religions. I know that people are going to believe what they want to believe. They have every right to do what they want to without prejudice. I don’t judge. In the same respect, I don’t want people to judge me either. Just because I believe doesn’t make me a mindless sheep waiting to follow the herd and do whatever I am told. I make up my own mind. We all have that right. Do what you do and I’ll do what I do. That is that.

It is now Wednesday and the weather has warmed up a bit. I won’t have to turn the heat on here after all. It feels ok in here. Not too cold; not too hot. But rain is in the forecast. That’s ok. A little rain is good. Oh, to have a tin roof and to hear the rain falling while lying in my bed, under the covers up to my neck. It’s better than music to soothe and relax me and lull me to sleep. But I won’t be doing much sleeping this weekend. Busy, busy, busy is what this weekend is going to be. And tomorrow? Well tomorrow is coming and I have special plans for the late afternoon/evening. I can’t wait. I am finally doing something I have been talking about doing for months. It is a secret, but maybe one day I’ll reveal what it is.

And maybe one day I’ll be able to repay the kindness shown to me by others. One day I will be able to help those who have helped me. And one day I will be the happy person I have always been. He’s still here, but just hidden underneath the skin of someone I don’t know. I want him to go; go far away and never come back. Take away the cold on the surface and warm up my heart from inside.