Responsibility

Murky by Finijo

I got up this morning before Connor and sad, but true, I will let him sleep until he wakes up on his own (about 2:00 PM, if I am lucky), just so I can have the house to myself. Marilyn is in Conroe, so it feels like it's just me as I sit here typing away and listening to the churning of the clothes in the dryer. I feel like I am returning slowly to center. David's death is a fact that sinks in more and more each day, so now the only thing that throws my equilibrium off are the calls from my nephew in Little Rock as he has minor melt downs about his brother's rants from prison. Both of them are very easily worked up as they push each other's buttons incessantly. They tend to go from baseline to critical at the smallest hint of a slight from one to the other and the only thing that matters to them in the midst of this is to be right while the other is wrong. I don't operate that way. My critical state is when I weep (sometimes wail) alone in my car. I have difficulty with the Jerry Springer-esque lobbing of threats and the futility of pissing contests to try to "win" an argument. I know part of my job over the next two years is to try to help these two brothers to either find a way to love each like brothers should, or to teach them to co-exist peacefully so that they can run the business. Neither of them has come to terms with the fact that because their father died without a will, they are equal partners in the success or the failure of the business he left to them. One of them is stepping up to be responsible and the other is stunted by his incarceration and seems to think he won the lottery, rather than inheriting a business with all of the responsibilities that it entails. The beautiful house they now own together can either be a place of peaceful cohabitation or it can be their own personal hell. I have to remind myself that if I don't succeed, it will not truly be a failure, since I have no control at all over how they behave. I can only lead by example if they are paying attention and if they want to be lead and if they don't and they squander the gift their father left them, then ultimately, that is their path. Not being disappointed in them or myself will be more than difficult, so I will try to focus on the positives as I reconnect with them both.

As I write about their drama, it is dawning on me that I am pretty stressed out about the situation. I have been having vivid strange dreams and they are all about me being responsible for some situation or some big project and not staying on top of the details. On the plus side, I am also dreaming about art and getting some ideas for pieces I would like to attempt. I think venting via blog will help me to process all of the things I am struggling with at the moment, at least I hope so.

Borrowed Time

Prayer for the Living by Finijo

Perhaps it is the combination of the New Year passing and David's death, but I am thinking more and more that I am on borrowed time. Grandma's life tells me that there is no way of knowing when your life will ebb away, but the Magic 8 Ball in my head keeps coming up "outlook not so good," when I think about the time I have left in this life to accomplish the things I want to do.  It's not exactly depressing, but I am re-evaluating what is important to me right now, and that isn't always as easy as it sounds.  

David Carroll West

I wrote to a friend that it is strange to think that I am in this world without my older brother and sister. They were always constants in my life and now there is a void where there presence once was. Even knowing they were a state away, they were still tangible and I knew that if I had a bad day or just needed to hear their voices, I could call them. It was an eight hour drive, but I knew that there was a hug and a smile from them just eight hours a way. 

We always assumed that losing Linda would be the hardest thing in the world, but somehow this loss seems more difficult. She had been so ill and become so debilitated by cancer that there was a small comfort in knowing that her years of fighting were over. David's illness began a little over a year ago and we thought he would be around for at least a few more years. I told him once that I thought he must have cockroach DNA, because he seemed indestructible. I think because we were so emotionally close to Linda our entire lives, but David had been so distant to us through his drug years, that his death is hitting us so very hard. I only became close to David after Linda's death, like a second string player whose chosen to play after the star player is out of the game. Slowly we built a relationship after he got sober and we became closer still in the last few years. His illness changed our relationship drastically after we went to care for him last Christmas. I don't think that he really knew we loved him until he got sick, and that saddens me greatly.

There was an ice storm in Little Rock just before we arrived. We witnessed the devastation it caused as we drove up I-30 and saw so many trees cracked and broken by the weight of the ice. David owned David's Tree Service in Little Rock, and he loved a good ice storm. He was not ghoulish about the devastation, but he knew that his phone would be ringing off the hook during a season that was normally not a busy time for his business. An ice storm was the chance to help people and to keep his crew working and earning money to support their families, and if the damage was extensive, they would be working for many weeks throughout the winter months.

While in Little Rock making the arrangements for David's funeral, I carried his phone and fielded calls from customers and from friends. Each call was wrenching and fascinating. Every single call was a window into his life that had not previously been open and those glimpses into how he impacted so many people over so many years breaks my heart and gives me great joy. I was shocked at how many of his customers broke down and cried while telling me what a great man he was and how much he had helped them over the years. They all spoke of his sense of humor and what an excellent service he provided. Most of them had something to say about the way he drove his crew to work to his exact specifications. I took a call Saturday evening, after the funeral was over and we were settling into our grief. The call was from Herman the German who called to tell David he was driving a truck through a place that David always wanted to visit, but never got the chance. Immediately I said, "You are in the Redwood Forest," and he replied that he was. He was very sad at the news that David died the morning of New Year's Eve. He said in his German accent, "I want to tell my story of how I met David." He recounted to me that he had just arrived in America in 1993 and was hitch hiking, and David was the first person to pick him up. He said, "He gave me a ride and he gave me a job." He talked of working for David and learning the tree business, and how eventually he was able to start his own tree company. "I had that company for 5 years and it was very successful, but I didn't like it." He sold his business and went traveling to "Ireland, Canada, and Maui." He wound up back in Little Rock last year and called David and told him, "I am back and I am going to drive trucks, but my job does not start for three months, can I work for you?" and David hired him back and they spend a lot of time together during those three months. Herman said he would continue to talk to David, because he thinks that they can hear you, even after they are dead. I don't know that they can't, so I hope he does and that it comforts him as it will comfort me to know that he remains in the thoughts of so many people.

David was a warm and funny man much of the time, but I never envied anyone who worked for him, especially his sons. His perfectionism on the job and his inability to communicate a directive without bellowing drove his boys away from the business he built for them. They both grew up steeped in the tree business, but neither son could work for my brother, and I understand too well why. His death has left the business to them and to my happy surprise they want to honor their father by keeping the company alive. David had a partner in his business, Orin, who has been in the tree business at least as long as David was. They were friends in their youth and worked together off and on over the years. Both David and Orin had similar work ethics, but their leadership styles differed dramatically and I think that under his tutelage my nephews may flourish, and in time even grow the business. I know that David would be proud of them for trying. I am proud of them for not taking the easy route and trying to succeed in the business their father taught them.

New Year's Eve

We found out this morning that our brother, David, died. In spite of his recent health problems, this was a surprise. He was not always the soundest of mind, but he was the soundest of body in our sibling group. It is more than strange to think that there are now only two of us left, stranger still to wonder at how much time we do or do not have left, given our brother and sister passing before reaching the age of 60. 

As New Year's Eves go, this one is not one of my better, but it is certainly the one I will be likely to remember for the rest of my life. We travel by car tomorrow to Little Rock and will drive the gray distance with a heaviness in our hearts that holds all of the trips back for sickness and death that we have made over the years. It occurred to me tonight that we always looked forward to our trips to Little Rock throughout our childhood and even into our early 30's, but then things started to change. Our sister, Linda, got cancer and married a horrid man while in a diminished mental state. Linda died, then our grandmother died, but not before countless trips to visit her in a nursing home. After Grandma died, we actually began to enjoy visiting David, which was no small feat as he was a difficult man, to say the least. Our relationship with him, which was strained and even distant through most of our lives seemed to develop into something deeper and with more respect than it had before. Visiting him last Christmas when he was sick and needed help to care for himself was a tipping point. He had promised to visit us, but he became very ill and  While the trip was more than difficult for us, he finally realized that he had two sisters who truly loved him, even when he felt he was unlovable. He wanted very much to visit this year, but his health failed him again and he spend much time in and out of the VA hospital in Little Rock over the last few months. We really thought he would heal up again and we would go see him in March. His sudden death this morning put an end to that plan. 

I am glad we had the last year and that he finally knew he was loved and that he had family that would be there for him in any circumstance. I wish he had more than just one year of that knowledge. I wish also that he had found happiness in his life. 

Happy New Year, David. We love you and are proud of the man you were able to become, and we are going to miss you more than you ever imagined was possible.