When I jetted out of Alabama, I never looked back. Traveled around the world, lived around the continent, and drank alot. Some people envy that lifestyle, but I learned the hard way that it usually just leads to loneliness. I never built any real relationships, and neglected the ones I already had. Heck. Sometimes a year or so would go by before I saw any of my family. That was my own choice, though. Pretty selfish... trading substance for a seat-of-your-pants, adventurous ideal. Do I regret it? Not necessarily. The things I saw and did were fantastic to say the least. Could I have gone about it in a better way? Most definitely.
My grandfather from my Dad's previous marriage passed away not too long ago. I hadn't talked to him in many years either. I suppose I figured (in my own sick way) that after the divorce I wasn't really part of the family anymore. My brother convinced me to visit them after the funeral. When I was told that he'd asked about me often, and they still kept pictures of me in the house, I was overcome with guilt and shame. A nasty concoction of pride and fear kept me away from folks who still loved me.
Talked to someone earlier today, a cousin from the same family, who told me of another passing. I didn't know her well, but was still sad to hear about her going. When the cousin sent me a message to call him, I felt that same anxiety come up. "I haven't talked to him in years." "What do I say?" For once I put all of that aside and called. I'm glad I did. Even though the circumstances were bad, it was good talking to him.
You probably gather by now that I've had alot on my mind. I think I've learned a little more about myself. With that said, it's getting late, and I have to be up very early. Until tomorrow, dear reader, goodnight and God bless.
