Sunday, February 22, 2009

The Wings of a Butterfly



When I was a boy, I once caught a butterfly-something I'm sure we've all done at one time or another. I didn't mean it any harm. I was just curious, as most boys are. When I finally let it go, it could no longer fly. I'm not quite sure what I did, but when I released it, it simply fell to the ground. I didn't think much of it and quickly moved on to something else. Now, as a man whose years have accumulated, I think back on the life of that butterfly and how delicate it was. Had I known at the time that I would have such a profound and devastating affect on its life, I'd like to believe I would have let it be.

We humans do this a lot-tilt the balance of nature for no apparent reason but to satisfy our own curiosity, or because we are unaware of the change the slightest of our actions can set into motion. There have been people that I've met along my life's journey who have impacted me both positively and negatively. My nature has been to focus more on those who have affected me positively, but lately I've been thinking about those who, without knowing, derailed what might have otherwise been a perfectly happy existence (if such a thing exists).

When I was in my late teens, I met a young lady in her mid-20's who probably had the most negative affect on me as anyone I've known. This woman and I created a child, and when that child was born I believe I understood the world in its purest form. We eventually separated, but the bond I had with my child was deep-my world was now defined by his existence. And then one day she took that child away, disappeared without a trace. No letter, no phone call, nothing-she and that child just vanished. And what remained inside of me was a gaping wound that, 'til this today, has never completely healed. My life was now defined by that wound, and like someone who has been encumbered by a handicap, my every action thereafter was hampered by it. I temporarily lost the ability to think and behave rationally. I drank heavily, and unwisely drove afterwards. I made many bad life-altering decisions during this period. I spiraled out of control.

I don't know if this woman knew the affect this would have on me-perhaps if she'd have known, like me and the butterfly, she would have done something entirely different. And I wasn't fully aware of how much my life was shaped by the incident until one day, about a year or so ago, a close friend of mine and I were having a conversation about his son. During this conversation he said to me, "Man, I don't know how you survived losing your son back then. If someone were to take my son away from me, I'd lose my mind-I don't know if I could take it." Hearing him say those words felt like someone had lifted a ton of bricks from my chest. Just to know that someone understood the depth of the pain I had experienced, and to some extent was still experiencing, gave me relief. I smiled inside, not really knowing why. Perhaps I was happy that someone heard me back then-that someone cared enough to listen. Up to that point, no one had ever mentioned anything about it to me; for the most part, I suffered silently.

Six years passed before I was reunited with my son. But by then we were strangers-neither of us sure how to move forward. We managed through it, but deep down inside I knew that a crucial bonding period had been lost and we would never have that true connection one shares with someone they've known all of their life. And in the dark recesses of my mind, I still struggle with feelings of guilt, shame, mistrust, distrust, anger, and powerlessness. The only solace I experience is when I remind myself that I am free, because had I found her during that six year period, I can't honestly say what I might have done to her. It was like my son died and I would have wanted to make her pay for the pain she'd caused.

My every relationship since has been shaped by that experience. I am always ready to let someone go, whether I want to or not. I've since learned that, like the wings of a butterfly, people and relationships are extremely fragile, and the slightest of our actions can alter them greatly-either positively or negatively. Over the years I've analyzed why she did what she did, and I've long since forgiven her. I no longer speak to her, for reasons having nothing to do with severing me from my child. One day I just decided there was no reason for us to ever speak to one another again, and we've not uttered a word to one another since. I harbor no resentment towards her, she was burdened with unimaginable demons long before she met me and knowing this gave me all the strength I needed to forgive.

If there is a lesson to be learned from this experience, I think it is to be fully aware of your actions and how they affect those around you. There are no free moves in life, and what you may deem an innocent gesture might result in catastrophic consequences for someone else. I often see people walk through life with a cavalier, devil-may-care attitude and I wonder whose lives they may be unknowingly destroying. Sure, there's always asking forgiveness, but I think life would be so much better if we behaved in a manner that never required us to have to ask for forgiveness.

We should all walk through life as though each misplaced step shattered a dream.


TPOKW?

Thursday, February 19, 2009

"Where you been?" they keep asking me.

Good question. I've, err, ughh...been busy. Truth be told, I've been swimming with the sharks. I had some really juicy stuff to talk about, but I got cold feet and decided that my arrest last November wasn't anyone's damn business but mine. Since the cat's out of the bag, I might as well speak on it.

I'm not going to go into detail but suffice it to say, my girl was ripped off by a contractor, then he vanished. We managed to locate him, went by his house and left a note. We then went back the next day and he was home. I asked him when he planned on finishing the fence he was handsomely paid to build and he went through several gyrations before going in the house, calling LAPD, then coming back out and getting all up in my face. My initial response was to hit him, but I knew this wouldn't be a productive thing to do. So I just stood there yaking back and forth with him. Just then, the boys in blue rolled up, he yelled, "He hit me", I was cuffed and arrested. TRUE STORY!!!

Bail was $50k-420 pc, communicating a threat, (after the cops decided that me allegedly hitting him was flimsy, my nemesis claimed I said I was going to assemble my 'crew' and come back and kill his entire family).

Some of you may doubt this version of the story, but if I gave you the full details, you would believe me even less. My girl couldn't believe, in this day and age, an out and out criminal could rip someone off for several thousand dollars, and then get away with saying someone hit him and have that innocent person arrested. This man stood at least a foot taller than me and outweighed me by at least 70 lbs. But you know us fierce negroes have to be watched-we're known for our super-human strength. We've been rumored to have the strength of ants (relatively speaking).

Don't get me wrong, I've mixed it up with guys much bigger than me before-most of the time successfully. But come on, at my age, I have no business fighting a cold. Fighting wasn't anything I was interested in-hell I wasn't even interested in being there. I just wanted to help my girl rectify this problem.

And the boys in blue? Ohhh, man the quality of cops has gone down. These aren't very bright individuals who can think on their feet. Even the detective that contacted my girl to interview her left a note on her door-she called him back in less than 15 minutes and said, "you left a note on my door," and he still didn't know who she was. Wisely, she told him, "Call me back when you figure out whose door you left a note on," and hung up the phone. Fifteen minutes he calls back and says, "Why didn't you just say who you were." Great detective work Sherlock. No wonder so many crimes go unsolved.

I'm not saying there aren't smart cops on the force, I'm just saying every one we dealt with during this episode shared a collective IQ of 50.

Incidentally, no charges were filed against me. But for the 10 minute ride to the station and about an hour and half of less-than-luxurious accommodations, we were billed $4000.

You would think something like this couldn't occur in the bustling metropolis of Los Angeles, but guess again. Am I bitter, not as much as I should be. The incident damn near tore my girl and me apart, but we made it out ok, both of us more cautious about what we say and do. Neither of us cared for strangers before this incident, and we like them even less now.

So that's my story. Remember, next time you decide so talk to someone who may have ripped you off, video or audio tape the incident-it may keep your ass out of jail.

TPOKW?