At Least They're Committed

The ball of my right hand is starting to swell, the flesh bright red. Great. All that from attempting to open the door to the small microwave I had ordered for the basement.

Yes, we’re 60+ and ‘living in our mother’s basement.’ I have a space that I’m setting up as my office where I will undertake contract or freelance work early next year.

No window, of course, but the stunning southwest painting on my left — salvaged from the park home — sits waiting to be hung, and somewhere in the boxes on the floor above is the mirror that will hang on my right. Will it be enough?

Sigh. Max sighs beneath the desk as I sigh. Here we are.

The 38 revolver is tucked away where only I know where it’s at. The bullets in a separate but nearby spot. I would say at least once a day I think about that.

No, I would never do that!

Still, desiring death isn’t new for me. Life is beyond hard for all of us. Some of us just take it better than others. I do appreciate life and the many blessings I have. I just seem unable to feel it.

When I had $250,000 in life insurance through the university, I thought, yeah, I bet I can do more good for my family from the other side. But it’s up to God, isn’t it? And I sure don’t want to go against His will.

Nowadays, I pray not to go because my family needs me here — especially a physical presence to help with the children of my beautiful, strong little girl. To support my beloved grandchildren whose father is back in rehab.

Yes, the grandchildren bring me joy, but it gasps for air beneath the weight of responsibility and the worry that goes along with it. “Look, TR!” I tell myself. “You just smiled! You even laughed!” I mark those times.

I’ve aged 20 years in the past one. More than even thinking about the gun, I think, hey, maybe for every day we spend surviving for others, I can get a day shaved off of my time here! Was it my will to be here or is it a sentence?

That sounds macabre, doesn’t it? God’s Earth is so incredibly beautiful and I do thank Him for that every day. It’s just the humans — so many dreadful humans. It’s amazing how one person can harm so many lives.

“Look for the helpers,” Mr. Rogers said.

Yes, there are so very many good humans, too. And I do celebrate them. If I could hold onto that and let go of all the evil that envelopes us, I would be OK — possibly even good.

Keep trying, Tripping Raul!

The thing is, I have faith, lots of it. So how can I possibly have so much good in my life and not feel an iota of goodness?

Notes to self to remind me:

• You’ve made it through one year, TR. Only about four more until you won’t be needed as much.
• It’s only 15 degrees outside now, but in the spring you and the children will enjoy one of the most beautiful backyards in the state.
• You can escape for days at a time to one of the most gorgeous mountain homes in the world.
• Look ahead, TR, celebrate and be thankful for God’s Earth and the ability to help raise these children to be good human beings.

Yes, yes. These are all good things. I cannot feel it now. It’s all so desperately dark. But I will someday and in the meantime, I’ll offer my time and life up to God and keep pushing through this self-induced misery that I know is unjustified to simply be good and do good.