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Well, this month has certainly taken its toll on me, financially, emotionally and physically. It begain with my father's stroke in the early part of the month. It got worse with news of our familial financial situation, which has been rather an eye opener. It proceded with news that a couple I had been friends with for a very long time were going to divorce and then just this last weekend, I found out that a guy I went to school with had succumbed to his long battle with cancer and the strangely mysterious Gulf War Syndrome that the cancer took advantage of. We buried him with full military pomp and decorum in the midst of pouring rain (how appropriate) and I still will always remember that in our youth he was larger than life, but when he had died, the cancer had worn him down to half his normal weight.
Hell of a way to start a year.
But there is still hope in the offing. My father is getting better. His rehab is progressing smoothly. He can now make a fist with his left hand again and is stuggling to re-learn how to open that same hand. He has been walking for brief periods with a four-corners cane, so named for the four-footed plate attached to the cane for stability. It's like he's a revitalized version of huimself, more cheerful, more friendly, hell, even more affable than he was before the stroke. He's still the fiesty middle aged Frenchman, just mellowed, relaxed. It's sad that it took something like this to produce such a personality shift, but I guess that's the way of it when you're trying to turn chicken shit into chicken salad.
Other things in life, no matter the strength and conviction of your intentions, just don't work out. My friends divorcing each other is likely going to make things very messy. But that was a road they choose long ago. Then again, had they listened to me and not gotten married in the first place......
On the strength of it all, I find myself somewhat drained, but still hopeful, still seeking the light. Sure, it's been a tough, lean season so far, but ain't they all? Somehow, I'll get through. Even if just barely. You look back on events like these and it does make you question many things. The power of some relationships over others, the draw of things barely noticed before, even the tiny nuances of things in your everyday that are so out of the ordinary for others.
Weird, no? I thought I'd already gone through this revelation once before. I guess Life has a way of making you re-learn certain lessons, even when you've got them down pat. Perhaps there's something else I'll take away from this rotten experience called the February of aught-four. Time will tell. In the mean time, I've actually found myself picking up the keyboard again and reviewing my stories with an eye toward writing. Maybe not as face paced as before, maybe not even with as much need to just get it written. But perhaps the stories will be better for the pauses. Maybe there will be some little bits that come through differently, better. Who is to say.
In short my brothers, I'm back. So let's turn on the juice and see what shakes loose!
Cya on the other side,
D'Artagnon.
PS: My family and friends call me either Robby or Chopper. I think most of you here can feel safe in calling me either. I'll still write under D'Artagnon, though. I kinda like the name and it suits things I write here.
It's not the wolf you see you should fear, but all the ones he howls with. Don't be afraid of the song, but don't piss off the choir.
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Roses, Tears & A Long February 
