Way back when..
As foggy as the day he died is due to grief, I can remember the day I met Kevin as clear as if it were just a few minutes ago. (I’d say “yesterday” but I can’t remember breakfast today, so we’ll go with a few minutes – right? right!) It was in high school, and I was best friends, almost the girlfriend of his older brother at the time.
What? It was a really small town back then! Specially when you factor in the fact I also dated their best friend, who later was married to my sister for a while. heh!
Anyway, it was my Senior year, so I was 17, almost 18. I’d only been going to the public high school since the year before, having been raised in little Christian schools all the way through my sophomore year. I learned quickly that all the cliques had been formed in kindergarten, and I just didn’t belong to any of them. I wasn’t a jock, a cheerleader, a preppy, a goth, a metalhead – I was simply the quiet girl who sat in the back of the class trying not to be noticed. Then I discovered that if you hung out with the stoners, they’d absolutely accept you as one of their own. You didn’t even have to smoke! As long as you didn’t care if they did, and didn’t rat them out, you were in.
That’s how I met Bubba and Kevin’s brother, Cory, and was integrated into the Stoners, much to my mother’s chagrin.
While I don’t remember the exact day, I remember everything else. I was headed to my locker before first house, only to find Cory – the tall, lanky, dorky clown (literally) leaning against the one next to mine, with a shorter, buzz cut kid who looked to be about 12 – too young for high school. He was all of 150 pounds of flesh stretched over his 5’10” height. He was a skinny little shit, wearing a little smirk like he knew everything, and was smarter than the rest, no matter who ‘the rest’ might be. I don’t remember what I was wearing, but he had on a pair of dark wash jeans, construction boots, a light t-shirt, under a black Carhart jacket. And his hair was buzzed short – shorter then military short. Like buzz cut so you don’t have to cut it for 6 weeks, then break out the clippers again, short.
After the hello’s with Cory, I looked at him with a clear “Who the hell is that?” arched brow. He smacked Kevin on the back of the head, told him to say hello, and followed it with “This is my fucked up little brother, Kevin.”
I rolled my eyes, said hi, grabbed my books and left. Little did I know that in just four years, that fucked up little brother and I would be together…
The top five ways to tell Christmas is coming!
Yes, there are ways to tell that there is but a few days left before Christmas arrives in the House de Lessa. I’m sure these signs are seen all across the land, in various degrees, with the added style of your own unique family thrown in – so I’m sure you’ll recognize these in spirit, at least.
Number Five: The Annual Search for the Ornaments.
I know I put them somewhere special so that we wouldn’t forget where they were this time! They were in the green tub – no, the blue one! No, not THAT one… CRAP. Well, there’s the tree, pre-lighted even. Isn’t it lovely? Stop crying, we’ll find the ornaments! Somewhere… are you SURE we didn’t put them under the house again? No, the Garage? OH YEAH! There they are! Whew. It would have been a lonely Hannah Montana Ornament if we hadn’t found them!
Number Four: “Don’t worry Mom! We’ll clean up the living room and move the couches for you so we can put up the tree! Don’t you worry about a THING!”
Sudden attacks of niceness and sibling cooperation that last approximately .09281 seconds before they’re bickering like always because YOUR FOOT IS ON MY SIDE and HEY that’s MY priceless piece of crumpled paper how DARE you throw it away! MOOOOOOOOOM! Is it wrong to want to wrap them up in ribbon and duct tape and keep them under the tree? FOREVER?
Number Three: I want this, and this, and THIS, and OMG THIS!
Many, many crumpled pieces of paper are horded and EVERY TOY KNOWN TO MAN is written down, added too with every commercial, every trip to the store, every whispered conversation with BFFs, every second of every day – All in hopes that out of the FIVE GAZZILION THINGS wished for, Mom can pick out the one you REALLY want, REALLY REALLY bad…
Number Two: Ninja Present Watch.
Or alternatively ‘practice for future NYE Parties involving lampshades and beer bongs’. This time of year, the kids do seem to think that we don’t notice them lurking around the corners, holding fast to the childhood belief that “I can’t see MOM, so MOM can’t see ME!” all in hopes of discovering that mom DID listen and got that longed for really expensive present. Luckily they soon remember that “Curiosity killed the cat, then Mama took the presents back!”
And, the Number One Way to tell Christmas is Coming? Moments like these:
“Here you go, mom. A bow! That I made! To place upon you, for I am giving you YOU for Christmas! Want to know why? Because I wanted to give you something awesomely TOTALLY PERFECT!”
…awwwwww.
Shameless, the whole lot of them!
Why didn't you…
The number one question I get asked isn’t what you’d think. Everyone tends to shy away from the “What happened?” as they consider it too personal, and most often don’t want to bring up bad memories or force me to answer something I don’t want to think about, even now. But, once they DO ask that question – I tend to get grilled with what they consider most important:
Did you SUE that doctor?
The simple answer is No – but then they want to know why and.. well yeah. To be honest, I’m not really sure why I didn’t. Mostly, I didn’t want to bring the kids through something like that, but also – I wasn’t sure I could handle it. While I do blame the doctor for the switch in the meds and causing Kevin’s death, I don’t see what good suing him will do. This particular doctor has been sued for malpractice before, and always settles and is still practices medicine here in town.
Part of me me thinks why bother? He’ll still be there, and it just won’t do any good. It also won’t bring Kevin back, or make me feel any better either. Sure, I might get some money out of it – but what if I don’t? How am I supposed to pay for representation, if they even decided I had a case?
So there were more questions then answers, and I just couldn’t see being just like all the Sue Happy Americans, and going to court. It just seemed to be too much bother, for little gain. That, and I was told I’d have to decide within 2 years, and since it’s been over 3 now… yeah.
So no.
I didn’t sue.
Any other questions?
Sibling rivalry…
…or something like that.
Sometimes, as I’m at my house, alone with my children, telling them something in a slightly elevated tone of voice – exhausted or bemused, either way – it appears that my mother sneaks in, and says things that I remember hearing from my childhood. She is just suddenly THERE, flying RIGHT OUT OF MY MOUTH. How the hell does that happen?! From things like “don’t you roll your eyes at me…” to “Leave you brother/sister ALONE” to “One day, you’re gonna feel BAD for doing that…” I’ve heard – and said – them all.
But you know what? That last one? Is a LIE. I don’t feel bad! In fact, I’ve been cackling – yes, CACKLING – for two days now! You see, my baby sister reminded me of a stunt I’d pulled on her back when she was 7 or 8, that STILL GIVES HER PAUSE today! That, my friends, is a Class A stunt! I am very proud. As are my kids. The baby sister? She’s declared me evil, and that I was going to be sliding straight to the fiery pit of doom. To that, my friends, I only have one thing to say: WHEEEEEEEEEE!!!
What was my devious deed? Well, back when I was 11 or 12, and my sister 7 or 8, I had a bff named Laura. She and I were practically joined at the hip even through she was 2 years older then me, and we spent a good portion of that summer at the high school swimming pool. Back then it was open every day for open swim, and only cost 50 cents to get in, so it was a good use of our time. AND there was a cute blond lifeguard that looked EXACTLY like Bo Duke, and Laura and me, we were totally going to get his attention/marry him/be his one and only (yes, the both of us) for that fact alone. We were slightly in love with the Dukes of Hazard, you see, and all I remember of the life guard was that he had blond curly hair that reminded us of Bo. Instant IN LOVE FOREVER were we. Yes. I am fully aware NOW that he must have thought us total dorks. But that has nothing to do with the story.
You see, it all started when my baby sister wanted to tag along with us into the deep end. We, being older, wiser, more mature, didn’t WANT the tag-along, well, tagging along. Apparently – though I’d forgotten about it until she reminded me yesterday – apparently I decided to spin a tale of horror to make her stay on HER side of the pool. In the Shallow End. In a stroke of pure genius, I told her that if she went to the deep end, a JAWS like Shark would come out from his home under the grate in the center of the deep end and EAT HER UP.
She believed me.
Not only did she believe me? But come to find out, as I’m laughing hysterically while she tells me how awful I am/was, she STILL hesitates every now and again as she swims over that damn grate in the bottom of the pool! STILL! At the ripe old age of 33! This from MY baby sister, the swimmer extraordinaire, who’s gotten my youngest to join the team with her and her kids, and does triathlons and is THIRTY-THREE YEARS OLD. She STILL gets that little squeamish feeling every now and again.
Just goes to show that even when I was 11-12, I RULE!
Of course, being the sensitive, mature woman that I am today, I treated such news with calm and sincere apologies and… who am I kidding? I’ve been laughing my ass off ever since she told me! And thinking of many, MANY devious plans that can help me capitalize on this little nugget of information. It’s not often something said so many years ago maintains a level of power over a grown adult! The kids can greet her by humming the JAWS theme! I can get her a toy shark that plays the theme! I can get her the BOXED ANNIVERSARY MOVIE SET! In 3D! I can make the JAWS theme her specialized ringtone on my phone! In fact, the bass clarinet player in my daughter’s band loves me, and offered to play said theme song FOR said ringtone to further personalize the torture!
And Oh. So. Much. More…
Oh yes. I am an evil. evil. EVIL woman. This Christmas will be FUN! In fact, I JUST discovered this little item that came through my feed reader this morning COMPLETELY RANDOMLY, which means that this upcoming torture is FATE. You see, it appears that the JAWS boat is going up for auction!
The fishing boat owned by the shark hunter who inspired the “Jaws†movies is going to be sold at auction.
New Yorker Frank Mundus, credited as being the real Captain Quint from Peter Benchley’s Jaws novel, on which Steven Spielberg’s movies were based, died in September at the age of 82.
His 40 foot wooden boat, Cricket II, will go on sale online in February, with a starting price of $25,000.
February, hm? I bet we can extend this fun until her birthday on the 26th, don’t you think? It’s the PERFECT birthday gift!
PS. Anyone have $25k I can borrow?
PPS. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
PPPS. Kids, be nice to your siblings. They might grow up to be JUST LIKE ME. MUHAHAHAH!
