People, Places & Purgatory

TWO FISH

Hard to imagine, but some people are simply born cursed for this life!

The journey we are all on, is something of a world record breaker for an eternity consumed with grief. Well, in my opinion anyway. 

Two "Brothers" identical in ways of demise. Two paths inevitably interchangeable. One city, six parents and a couple siblings. 

Benny grew up in a family of five. Two sisters Bonnie and Beatrice. Mother Judy and Father gone before his memory could formulate properly. Alcohol was a common household item, and it clouded both mommy and daddy. Benny and the girls, all were malnourished. Food was scarce, but there was love in the home. 

What is love? A family connection, that's what it is. Benny being the eldest, set forth to make himself and his family some money. He could fix roof's and was good at it. For a while, the new family of four were able to eat well, and live ok. The girls graduated High School, and one became pregnant. The family was growing in so many ways, much to Judy's happiness. 

Father Ric returned into Benny' life, and this was the moment of growth and despair. 

Ric introduced his son to cocaine, and soon a life of no showing for work and eventually no showing for the family. Bonnie found them, and eventually was joining in on the fun daddy provided. Judy lost herself in the bottle, and eventually lost the family home. 

It is said that Benny has a couple kids within a ten year span. Both lost to social services, and the women who bare them- dead! 

Meth shards fell onto Benny sooner than he would've liked, I'm sure. Then an abusive girlfriend who shared the needle. 

Benny would be left bruised by whom he believed was the love of his life. Black eyes hallowed out, liver problems and holes in his skin that tracked up the legs through his arms. 

Last seen behind a red fence...

Willy and Wally two young kids living just above the poverty line, had it all. A trailer home with their parents. The eighties were a different time, one with never ending stories and freedom. Each night, like most of us we went home when the street lights came on. 

After being out all afternoon riding their bikes, they didn't make supper. Just around nine at night the boys went home. Dropping both of their bikes on the front lawn, they scampered inside. 

No one was home?

This wasn't ever something that had occurred before. No notes left, no meal prepared and the television was off. Each weekend was the same, mum baked and dad watched sports. The trailer was cold as though there had been no activity in hours. Willy made he and his brother some peanut butter sandwiches and they turned on the television. Sunday Night Movie was on, so they watched that till they fell asleep. 

The next morning, two police officers arrived at their screen door. Wally answered, and then screamed for his brother in outrage. 

A car accident took their parents away forever. A trip mum wouldn't have gone on, if she knew she'd leave her boys in peril. 

Uncle Gordon took on raising the boys. He was wealthy and they grew up having a new life of sports and popularity. Wally went on to college, while Willy sunk deeper and deeper into auditory hallucinations. Schizophrenia crept up on him, combined with his sadness that he tried to bury. The voices got worse, and eventually Uncle Gordon had to have Willy placed into a hospital. 

Within the safe walls of the insane, Willy got his hands on Desoxyn. This was supposed to help in some medical form, until it didn't. In fact, it never did. Willy sought more of it, as his visions of God and the Angels came regularly with his parents. The Devil would take form of the authority figures attempting to place care or silence the voices.

Silencing the voices meant killing the visions of his parents. He wouldn't allow anyone to kill his parents again, so he escaped. 

This led to life on the streets, and survival crimes. 

At one point, Willy received help from social services and he made it into a group home. With the right medications, and a resemblance of love within the home he did well.

Until God came a knocking (his words) Mum and Pops wanted to see him, and so he stole a car and made his way to them. The diseases were seeping back into his bloodstream, and he too crashed the car. 

His death wasn't physically, but rather emotionally worse than grief itself. 

Willy would be incarcerated without medications for two years. Left in a cell, and when let out to shower he had been beaten and raped repeatedly. 

One day a Social Worker came along and saved him from the prison walls. He offered him a multi functional care facility, where he could do as he pleased. Yes, this included his desire to see God and partake in extra curricular substances that propelled his visions. 

All of this sounds wild right? Does a place like this exist? They do!!

Now, I could imagine hearing that during my recovery start and think you must be setting me up. The Social Worker tried to explain that this wasn't a set up, he was really trying to give him a chance at a life on his terms.

Once they reached the facility, no bars no locked doors rather an open loving environment. Willy didn't believe him and took off running once the car stopped. 

Eventually he made his way back, hunger will do that! 

Willy would spend days in a fetal position on the bathroom floor, on the main floor. He refused to shower, and he refused help. The teams working within the facility actually didn't have the lived experience to see beyond the disease and abuse he may have suffered. So the treatment from them towards him was poor. 

The Social Worker could see through Willy's muddled mind. The signs of abuse were evident, his trauma (gosh I hate that word/term) was escalated and a part of his soul now. There was no breaking that lesson taught and self yearned. 

Willy would bounce around within the agency, and grew as he did. 

The Social Worker believed that within time, love would find a way. Freedom would come in form of acceptance and understanding. 

Last seen he was sitting in a circle, with hopes of opening up. 

As time goes by, I get these amazing opportunities to meet people like Willy & Benny. Two lost souls living in that Pink Fish Bowl we call life. 

What is remarkable though, is that I and YOU swim in the same body of water. WE get these chances to connect, to feel and most importantly LOVE one another.