*To all my readers, this is my first guest post. It is not from someone famous but from a very dear friend of mine. Without further ado I give you the post from my friend Hilly:
He was a modern day cowboy....
When I first met MJ I was 16 and still living with my parents. He and his wife had just moved to the neighborhood. You could tell by looking at his red leathered skin that he had lived a rough, wild life, but his sincere blue eyes and his assuring smile reflected his true nature; a kind, non judging cowboy waiting in the distance for when he is needed. Little did I know that two years later I would discover how true those words would be.
Eighteen. This was a dark period in my life. My world as I had understood it had crumbled as the relationship and the place in my family was destroyed and my " best friend" who I loved so dearly had abandoned me simultaneously. The slight confidence I had built was obliterated and I furthered my self worthlessness via Marlboro cigarettes. Unable to sleep I decided to slowly kill myself with a pack of cigarettes outside the front of my house only to find out that my parents noticed and consequently locked me out. Broken, pained with the knowledge that my family lost all promise in me, anguished that they had given up on me, shamed that they didn't want me anymore, walked away.
Aimlessly I walked pointlessly up and down my street not knowing what to do for I had no shoes, no keys, no phone, no money. Then I noticed a blue glow coming from my neighbors home and on closer inspection the door open with a glass screen shielding it. Hesitantly I tip toed over not knowing why my neighbor would be up and how he would react to a troubled eighteen year old girl knocking on his door in the middle of the night. Sheepishly I rapped the glass and he appeared. He looked at me he was not alarmed, inquisitive, but not condeming. He spoke, hello. Embarresed I asked him if I could use his phone to call a friend, that I was locked out of my house. "Of course" he said, "its not trouble at all I am just watching old movies. I have insomnia and can not sleep. You're welcome to stay and watch some with me until you can reach someone." I stayed a little while, smoked a ciggarette with him and called a friend". He never pried about the paramedics earlier that week and only said to me " You know I have seen how you take care of your brother and sister and how you take them to school, you're a good kid." I laughed as I tried to hold back the tears. With a warm knowing glance he said nothing more and we just sat. Being with him those few moments was so healing. Without words he told me everything was going to be ok, my life was not over, and that I was a worthwhile person. We never had spent any other time like that together since that night, except for the occasional passing conversation outside my parents house, irregardless an understood connection remained. I hope he knows how much he helped me that night and how I will never forget him.
March 27, 2010 MJ died of pnemonia a complication from lung cancer. He was only 2 days shy of his 60th birthday. I was so happy to see so many people at his simple funeral-the way he wanted it. I regret never verbally telling him the thought I am sharing with you but was comforted by a thank you letter his widowed wife had written me. She said "MJ always thought of you, saying what a fine young lady you are"...
Thank you MJ, thank you.
He was a modern day cowboy....
When I first met MJ I was 16 and still living with my parents. He and his wife had just moved to the neighborhood. You could tell by looking at his red leathered skin that he had lived a rough, wild life, but his sincere blue eyes and his assuring smile reflected his true nature; a kind, non judging cowboy waiting in the distance for when he is needed. Little did I know that two years later I would discover how true those words would be.
Eighteen. This was a dark period in my life. My world as I had understood it had crumbled as the relationship and the place in my family was destroyed and my " best friend" who I loved so dearly had abandoned me simultaneously. The slight confidence I had built was obliterated and I furthered my self worthlessness via Marlboro cigarettes. Unable to sleep I decided to slowly kill myself with a pack of cigarettes outside the front of my house only to find out that my parents noticed and consequently locked me out. Broken, pained with the knowledge that my family lost all promise in me, anguished that they had given up on me, shamed that they didn't want me anymore, walked away.
Aimlessly I walked pointlessly up and down my street not knowing what to do for I had no shoes, no keys, no phone, no money. Then I noticed a blue glow coming from my neighbors home and on closer inspection the door open with a glass screen shielding it. Hesitantly I tip toed over not knowing why my neighbor would be up and how he would react to a troubled eighteen year old girl knocking on his door in the middle of the night. Sheepishly I rapped the glass and he appeared. He looked at me he was not alarmed, inquisitive, but not condeming. He spoke, hello. Embarresed I asked him if I could use his phone to call a friend, that I was locked out of my house. "Of course" he said, "its not trouble at all I am just watching old movies. I have insomnia and can not sleep. You're welcome to stay and watch some with me until you can reach someone." I stayed a little while, smoked a ciggarette with him and called a friend". He never pried about the paramedics earlier that week and only said to me " You know I have seen how you take care of your brother and sister and how you take them to school, you're a good kid." I laughed as I tried to hold back the tears. With a warm knowing glance he said nothing more and we just sat. Being with him those few moments was so healing. Without words he told me everything was going to be ok, my life was not over, and that I was a worthwhile person. We never had spent any other time like that together since that night, except for the occasional passing conversation outside my parents house, irregardless an understood connection remained. I hope he knows how much he helped me that night and how I will never forget him.
March 27, 2010 MJ died of pnemonia a complication from lung cancer. He was only 2 days shy of his 60th birthday. I was so happy to see so many people at his simple funeral-the way he wanted it. I regret never verbally telling him the thought I am sharing with you but was comforted by a thank you letter his widowed wife had written me. She said "MJ always thought of you, saying what a fine young lady you are"...
Thank you MJ, thank you.
4 comments:
Hilly,
Thank you so much for sharing your special story in my blog. I am glad that you were my first guest post.
It is sad that you had to experience such an event in your life but it is those events that truly affect us and shape who we are.
Once again, thanks for having the courage to share.
Thanks for sharing Hillary. You never know when someone is going to impact your life.
I'm sending a nice warm feeling up to MJ, wherever he is. It's startling how strongly a stranger can influence us, but sometimes it really is just what we need. Nice post, Hilly.
Thank you all for your feedback. I really enjoyed blogging (this was my first time!!!) and especially feel privileged to be a part of Carlos' amazing, amusing, thought provoking blog.
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