The Threes of Tragedies

I usta say Take Care...

My Midwestern upbringing lent itself to my use of the colloquialism 'take care' when parting company. At age 24 I returned from the Peace Corps. At that point I started using 'love ya' interchangeably with take care. My female friends understood, but some confusion remained among the male contingency. So for them, I said, "take care" and to my girlfriends "love ya". And everyone seemed to understand.
After returning from the Peace Corps, I had a heart-to-heart with my younger cousin Malcolm. I knew he was going through a really tough time. When I hugged him good-bye that Christmas. I parted with the words, "Take care of yourself, Malcolm". The following Spring, he bought a used car for a thousand dollars, drove to a park and connected the exhaust to the window. He heeded my words.
Fast-forward to July of 2008. All the siblings except one were home for Dad's birthday. Clem was on his way to church. My family was headed to Indianapolis. We shared a sideways hug and then I said, "Take care, Clem." I would never see or touch him again. Now? Now I say any of a number of parting words, including, but not limited to:  safe travels, good-bye, adios, see ya, love ya, au revoir, hasta la pasta, a demain, a toute-a-l'heure, manana, so long, but never 'take care'. I reply, 'you, too' when I hear it, but I will never again utter those words to someone I love. I don't think my proclivities will keep my friends and family alive, but I'm not taking any chances. Adieu.

Five Years Gone By...

Last month marked the fifth year anniversary of Clem's death. Our lives have changed in so many ways since. Nobody will ever understand my relationship with Clem. I cannot describe it in words...though that won't stop me from trying. I've often said that he was my first best friend. I bonded with him almost instantly and would have followed him anywhere as a child. As an 18-yo, I followed him to college at the University of Iowa. We talked my parents into letting me move there upon high school graduation. Dad said that I could spend the summer there if I could find a job within a week. He didn't think I could. With Clem's help, there was no way I could fail. I landed a housekeeping job at a nearby swanky hotel by Thursday of the week. Dad sounded disappointed. I was overjoyed. I later discovered that my younger sisters had some ill feelings about me leaving 'early'. I think that eventually they forgave this.

Where am I with the loss of Clem? My answers are in my heart, which is the only place that I will find answers because the circumstances of his death were such that some old white men in high places actually stood to benefit from the elimination of my brother, his knowledge, and his conscience. I don't really believe in hell, but if there is one, surely this 'trifecta of evil' will burn eternally, for I believe that they have traded their souls and humanity for the love of power and control. Fate, karma, god or some force will punish those responsible. I hope I live long enough to witness it. And then I take a deep breath and cleanse myself of the negativity that these men in power have brought to our nation.

I miss Clem, but not with the desperation I once did. I do feel his presence and his love; I still talk to him from time to time, and think that I always will. And I still feel cheated.

Dream On...

So Clem has returned to my dreams. I feel like my life is falling apart around me. He made a cameo in a dream last night in which he was there to tell me, I think that he is still protecting me.

A Close Call

After our missed liaison in IC, Clem flew to our home town. His goal, at this point was talking to Mom to persuade her to be evaluated by a psychologist so that she might be able to drive legally again. In IC, my role was to help Clem brainstorm strategies in order that he feel more secure in broaching the subject. I wanted to do this for him. Circumstances beyond my control led me to stay home. In one respect, my partner was acting controlling, one relative was lying to me about her whereabouts, and my kids were the slightest bit sick. So I didn't go and spent the time on the phone with him as he toured the places around IC where I hung out and where I worked as a bartender. I missed it. That was 2 months to the day before Clem was killed.

After Clem spoke with Mom and Dad, because we also needed to address his behavior as well, Mom had an 'incident' where my nieces were in the camper down by the lower concrete platform of my parents' house. Mom was at the top of the steps, she turned to leave and had what we can only guess was a mini stroke. By the grace of god or fate or something, Mom missed the concrete platform. When paramedics arrived, her blood pressure was 200/100. I replayed this and many memories shortly after Clem's death. I love my Mom, but wondered why God didn't take her that day and spare Clem. Mom has longed for death for as long as I can remember, saying that she knows she will go to heaven because she has lived through hell on earth. We would have grieved, mourned and missed Mom, but it wouldn't have torn at our hearts and souls like losing Clem.