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2:55 P.M. - Sunday, Jun. 06, 2010 I caught sight of my reflection in the glass and saw a grin, not a happy smile but a fool�s smirk. I hated it, it hated me�it was me, my replica. I looked closer, it looked back�realizing not only did she grin but she was tired. Day�s, weeks, months, years, showed life�s longing for itself wasted, gone�deep within those eyes were painted with anguish. It was those little things, movements that flow so subtle one barely notices. As if tiny boulder�s slide down the snowy mountain�no ones notices until the avalanche of hell is upon us. One may run with the wind if seen quickly enough. I didn�t notice�or maybe I did�and believed...believed in him. People can change�right? People can change? Those little ripples were set in motion about a year ago. We had a wonderful trip visiting his cousin�his all time favorite family member. �He is the only one that gets me,� those words flowed out of his mouth, smooth as silk. That trip is when the drinking started, �just a few beers will not hurt anything,� that is what he said. Once home it was just a few,� here and there�holidays, Saturday nights, and then my daughters wedding�of course everyone were drinking. When my mother passed a terrible weight of loss consumed me, some days the burden too great to carry alone. He is here�drinking�drinking�his eyes colored by hate and negativity. I called several times to keep him up to date the days prior to mom�s death. I suspected, I suppose I knew, however, he denied it when I asked. He was drinking. He wasn�t there for me�he isn�t here for me�right now I feel utterly lost and so very alone. I have friends I could call and family I could write�and say what??? I was wrong�just how many times have I beat this nails head? For the first time in twenty years trust for my safety I am questioning, not my physical self, mental�he looks and acts like a trapped animal in a cage. He has never lashed out physically but his words are poison. He hates it here, he loathed Ark, he detested Florida, all he could talk about was being close to his family�now he wants to move and go back to Ark or Mississippi. When I said no, I wouldn�t go�the guns were drawn�the battle line placed between us. When he is drunk he rambles�he believes �by re-thinking� all that happened in Ark that it was my doing not his. He has spit through clinched teeth that all he wanted was to visit his family and while he was gone I let our place on the mountain go. He is crazy when he�s drinking. He is silent, negative and spiteful and the words roll from his mouth like venom when he is sober. Some how in his twisted thinking I caused all the ripples that landed us back here in PA. He said he is leaving come July�oh if only the planets, moons, and stars, could once again line up�however he was leaving the first of June�he is still here�still drinking. His mother bought him all the tools to have a wood shop. In the beginning he built shelves, a hutch�now he lives down in the wood shop-basement, sitting�just sitting watching the dust and grim build around him. I asked him why he got all those tools if he didn�t want to be here�he said he thought he did�now he doesn�t. He hates this house, we pay bills�he despises that. He said come July 1st he will pay nothing with his disability check�he will be leaving and never look back. God�I can only pray. We haven�t spoke for three days now, he sits in the basement and stares at nothing during the day�at night he drinks and plays music loud enough the neighbors could hear if he opened a window. He shuts the house up and closes the curtains�the air runs non stop so the basement will be cool. This morning I opened the windows to let the house air out�it is only in the 70�s here. When he got up he slammed through the place like a bear in a china store and closed it back up and then retreated to his safe haven�the basement. He is angry�said I �made� him move to this house�said he didn�t want to move out of the little travel trailer where he had no bills. He said he hopes I lose the blazer when he leaves, the house, everything. He insinuated during his last ranting that I should have died in the Blazer accident�then I knew for sure�there is no love�no compassion. A few weeks ago it was like a tickle I couldn�t scratch when I got dressed up (for me that is rare�I have no where to go) and he never said a word�not, �you look nice,� �you�re pretty,� nothing. I thought maybe I was getting to old to look �pretty� any more�you know some people think age robs beauty. On the way to the Dr�s two people I knew stopped and told me I looked nice�they noticed, he didn�t. Thinking during my drive I realized I couldn�t recall the last hug that came from him, the true smile that lights up ones eyes, the last kiss�it had been so long I had no memory. Those little ripples became a raging wave that washed over me clothing me in sorrow�he just didn�t care, love, or have a once of empathy. Sad. Losing my mom has shaken my world more than I could ever place in written form, in addition the lost and hopeless feeling I have about my terrible decision to believe�to hope�to have faith�all gone�gone, just like my mother. Fast forward to today�it is raining, the sky dark as coal�I see a reflection, she is a fool. Sandyz
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