Most of you who read this blog know me. I am a simple man. I have simple tastes. I have been known to wear my heart heart upon my sleeve. I live a somewhat spartan existence, alone with a few pets and wildlife to keep me amused here in the valley. I have the luxury in my life of many friends who love me. I also have the pleasure of having my family in close proximity. I was raised by my mother, a single mother. I guess you could say I was raised by committee as well. The committee being my Grandaddy, Granny, My two Aunts, and my Uncle. I was taught the values of right and wrong. As I absorbed every lesson passed into my curly mop, I molded my values.
As I got older, I retained these values. Notice I said retained. Not neccessarily lived them. As any young adult, I hit my highs and lows. I did some things I regret back in those younger years. I know I hurt my family in some of those instances. I created hardships for them. Nothing major mind you. But hardships nonetheless. I hurt some of my friends as well. I think the majority of us can say we did some stupid stuff and regret it into our older years.
Those actions, while wrong, served as building blocks of my life. Each of us has those blocks that we build on. Sometimes, mostly around the holidays or another higher digit birthday, I will hit what I have termed a "Blue Funk". We all have different terms for such reflective moods. The past few days I have entered the beginnings of such a "Funk". I guess this funk has been lurking since the last couple of days in August.
We have had fun over these past few months making light of the break-in of my home. Hell, laughter is the best medicine. You guys have listened to me bitch, gripe, and moan about it. We have joked and laughed our asses off at the sheer absurdity of it all. I welcomed all that laughter. Hell, I probably wouldn't have retained what sanity I have without it.
Today, in some dealings with the case and the detective, I learned that the suspect would not return yet another piece of property he stole from me, choosing instead to destroy it. At least that is what he told the detective. I also learned that he has "no use for me", so to speak. Awww. How sweet. The feeling is mutual. Nothing that anyone in my immediate family has ever done has hurt the family as much as this idiot. This is the young man who my mother took into her home to try and help after some of his early run-ins with the law. This is the young man who has continued to take advantage of those who have tried to help him over the years. The young man who has treated his brother like a dog. The young man who has been arrested multiple times since being bailed out of jail by people who are seemingly unaware that they are "enablers".
Early on in this mess, although still stung and upset by the break in, "wearing the heart on the sleeve" gave me some sort of solace. This was not the cousin I used to watch sleep when he first came home from the hospital, all hooked up to a heart monitor because of SIDS. This was not the cousin I lent my shotgun (the same one he stole) to so he could go hunting over at my grandparent's house. This was not the cousin I tried to talk to about the drugs and where they were going to lead him if he didn't quit. This was a methhead punk with a bunch of methhead punk friends who was not going to change because he didn't want to. A punk with people closest to him continuing to provide him avenues to continue his actions.
In short, I no longer feel safe in my own home. Somewhere in the dank recessess of the backside of Pickens County, my personal information (along with my freakin TV) is in the possession of some methhead. I have nightmares about someone breaking in my home and trying to kill me. I see the shame on my Granny's face when one of her brothers or sister asks if her grandchild is still in jail. I see my other family members not knowing if they are going to be the next victim. I see my relationship with my uncle, who I always thought of a father figure to me, deteriorating beyond repair. All because of an idiot who can't seem to see through the meth-haze what he has done.
The Lord preaches forgiveness. I was brought up to believe this. One day I will forgive him. After today, I have given up the forgiveness crap. I want his ass in jail. Maybe it will help him, maybe not. But at least he will be away from the pieces of sh@# trash he has chosen to associate with the past few years.
Thanks for listening to me ramble.
Sandmon
