The past month I’ve spent a rather ridiculous amount of time with friends and family. I’ve found new relationships I never would have even thought to explore… and I’m so happy I did. One in particular has helped me in more ways than he’ll ever know. Well, he might know now.
While visiting friends in Wisconsin I met this one gentleman who has become somewhat of a mentor. He was simply the neighbor of my friend, but he invited me into his home, handed me a donut and a cup of Keurig made coffee, and simply spoke with me about life.
I swear it was as if we talked for a whole week… oh wait, we did! Every day for a whole week I was at his home, just talking. And talking. And talking, and growing to know each other on such a deep level that most people never even scratch my surface. My past was a graveyard, and he the sexton. Dan seemed to know exactly what needed to be buried and what needed to be dug up.
Looking through this blog, any person able to read can tell I’ve had some difficulties in my past. Hiding parts of my life which include depression, suicidal thoughts, rape, and sexual abuse is something I refuse to do. Shame is not something I will feel. And writing is an action which is incredibly therapeutic for me. Also, I do feel a sense of pride and value when people read my work and reply “Thank you for sharing, be strong” or “I feel the same way, and am happy to know I’m not alone.”
By sharing my experiences I feel I’m doing a service to my community and helping others who have gone through the same events I have.
I always thought my past would forever haunt me. Until I met Dan.
He sifted through my history, looking for the hidden gems and bits of rusty bullion like a gold digger during the California gold rush.
We spoke of life in the context of experiences, mistakes, passion, love, the past, the future, and my ever amazing present which continues to even amaze me. We covered what seemed to be every topic, every emotion, and every minute grave. What I didn’t know, was what I buried and thought to be dead was actually clawing at the coffin to escape. Very much alive.
In one week, Dan had helped lay to rest many of my undead. Various emotions and daemons I just wanted to forget, I now know, I can not forget. However, I can lay them to rest so I may have peace. No more will I be sitting in my metaphorical cemetery and hearing that eerie scratching which was awfully unsettling. For years I heard that scratching… years!
Thanks to one man, just one man’s time and care… I have the tools to burry my past properly, plant flowers at the graves, and let them grow. Once in a while I’ll come around to water and smell those flowers, look at my gravestones, and smile knowing I’ve found inner peace.
I’m so grateful for our time together. Please know you are cherished and loved. I truly pray our paths with cross again, but if not, remember… you’ve enriched my life and let me live again.