Oh Testosterone

Oh Testosterone

(Use the Mr. Sandman tune)

Oh testosterone,

Leave me alone,

There is no one but me here at home.

Your presents causes me such pain,

Your pressing needs will drive me in sane.

Oh testosterone,

Please go away,

I do not need you here with me today,

You just make me feel so damn horny,

But there is no one here for me.

Oh testosterone,

Please give me a break,

I just want to sleep, not lay awake.

Please just sit quietly in the back ground,

Until I need you to be a round.

Oh testosterone,

Stay out of my dreams,

I just want to keep the sheets clean.

When you’re here you raise your head,

Then I can not even roll over in bed.

Oh testosterone,

This is just not right,

Taking a cold shower in the middle of the night.

Waking up from a these partial dreams,

To find she is not here is not as fun as it seems.

Oh testosterone,

I am not yet dead,

But I don’t need you every night in my bed.

So please leave me without a big fight,

And I will call you when the time is right.

Oh testosterone,

Come back when I need.

I know I have just asked you to leave.

Make sure you are here, that’s what I’m saying,

To do your job please don’t leave me hanging.

Oh testosterone..........

3/15/2015

Fail

When the relationship fail and the love is gone

When your life becomes that old country song

You sit on the couch that you use to share

With tear filled eyes out that window you stare

At the driveway where her car use to be

Now an empty spot is all that you see

You keep wondering where it went wrong

And for you to know it took so long

The pain you feel deep inside won't go away

Making you wish that you were back in the old days

You pick yourself up and wipe off your face

Knowing you can no long stay in what use to be our space

Grabbing your keys heading out of the door

You head out to see what the world has in store

3/15/2015

The Decision

The Decision

JMBlondin

3/03/2015

I am surrounded by sounds, little beeps, the whirring of a fan, the tick, tick, tick of a pump, the wheeeeze click of another machine. The out of focus sounds of voices calling out to one and another sometime muted and other times loud and intrusive; the passing click of shoes on the hard floor and the smell of this place. The too strong smell of disinfectant and alcohol mixed with the smell of clean sheets, of plastic and of waiting death. 

Out the window I see the glare of the sodium vapor lamps being reflected off the windshields and chrome of the cars in the parking lot. It is once again night and I am once again here in this place. Slowly I turn to the left. There is the pervasive wheeeeze click, wheeeeze click of that machine with its blinking light and fan sounds. Wheeeeze click, wheeeeze click. The other machines and devices making their own little sound as they break the semi dark with their lights blinking and lit up wavy lines. There are bags of fluid and tubes. Everything so orderly, and so terrifying, each pole so shinny they are reflecting all the little light in a strange and distorted way, each bag so clear, everything so industrial. Wheeeze click, Wheeeeze click.

               A little further on to my left stands the only other person in the room, my baby sister. She is not looking at me but rather looking down. Her left arm is wrapped across her breast in a self-hug and her right arm is bent with her fist against her mouth. Her blue eyes are rimmed red and filled with tears; her cheeks are wet with their trails. The light grey shirt she is wearing has a wet spot on her arm where so many of those tears have dripped off her cheeks coming to rest and soaking in. She is not making a sound. On the bed between us in what use to be our father he’s not longer there, oh his body is there but he has left the building like Elvis leaving only the physical memory of him. He is breathing but only because of the wheeeeze click of the machine beside his bed. Samantha and I have to come to an agreement, she and I have to decide if we silence the wheeeeze click, stop the flow of liquid and end this charade that has become our fathers life.

               “Sam” I say quietly. She does not respond. “Sammie“I say again with a little more volume. She turns to look at me. My heart wrenches at the way she looks and at the knowledge of what I am going to say, what I have to say.

 “Sammie we have to decide, I cannot do this any longer, I cannot come in here each day knowing that dad is tied to this lifeless flesh because of these machines. I know his soul cannot leave here as long as he breaths. He is tied; we keep him tied here because we cannot decide. He is probably screaming at us to free him”

               I can see the anger flash in those blue eyes. Inwardly I cringe knowing what is coming.

”We cannot just   turn    him    off!" The voice coming from her is unlike that loving child that has followed me around for all these years. Those eyes are not the ones that have looked up to me which such wonder. There is steel in there where there use to be softness and that little girl lilt has been replace with iron conviction.

 “We cannot end this until we know for sure that there is NO chance there he will come back!”  There is steel in her voice but not in her eyes, they hold only fear and sadness.

               “Samantha” I can hardly speak without breaking into sobs, “There has been no brain activity for days, if the machine is not there he does not breath, if the IV’s were turned off he would starve. He does not eat, he does not sleep……..HE IS NOT HERE!” I did not mean to raise my voice and she recoiled as if I had struck her. Stepping back she breaks into sobs, both hands now covering her face. She has not turned away from me. Through her hands I hear her muffled voice breaking as she says,

“NO…NO….NO! Mom is gone, we have no one, there is no one left for us!” Dropping her hands she looks at me with a fierceness that I haven’t seen since she kicked the ass of the neighbor boy for throwing stones at me, that fierceness that was the mother lion when she was protecting me.

               “Danny I cannot help you end what remains of our family, I cannot even though I know there is a strong chance that he will not come back to us.” She turned and looked down at what remained of our father.          Wheeeeze click, wheeeeze click, the rise and fall of Dad’s chest the only movement, the machine doing all the work.

               “Sam, honey, I can no longer stand by and watch this, and I cannot keep putting this off.” I said in a soft tone also looking down on what remained of the strong man that use to whip me real good when I didn’t tow the line. The same man that once told me after breaking up a fight between Sam and me by making us hug until we starting laughing, to “protect your sister with your life.” His tone was soft then, telling me something that I knew I must always do; that I would always do.

               I turned and looked up at Sam.

“Sam..”  

“What?” she said, “What are you going to do Danny? You’re the oldest and you have to decide, I cannot agree.. not yet.. So what are you going to do Dan! What are you going to do, pull the plug on DAD, pull his plug?”

               I could hardly see her through my own tears now, sobs now tearing at my own throat. The pain in my heart for both my kid sister and what our father had become was threaten to drop me right there. Once again my resolve was waning.

“We have to decide something Sam.” I whispered as I moved around to her side of the bed. I opened my arms to her as she stepped in; turning her face up to me she put both arms around me and gave me one of her fierce backbreaking hugs as a sob escaped her throat.

The lights went out.

Weeeeze…..

03/03/2015

Mr. Love

Mr. Love.

Mr. Love is dying. He is very, very old. Sue and I have not been able to find out his age or the birthplace of Mr. Love but we do know that is dying. He told Sue and I, “I’ve just live too long, people don’t care if I am dead or alive, most think that I’m already dead. But let me tell you” he said with a sad smile, “When I am gone the world will know of my passing.”

               This reporter is not really sure what Mr. Love meant by that statement but the way he said it I cannot help but feel that he knows something we do not. I will continue to follow this story.

               “Good morning Sue, How is Mr. Love today?” “He seems about the same” she says as she looks up from the paperwork in front of her. “I don’t think that he will last much longer thought, he just doesn’t want to live anymore.”

               Sue and I have been taking care of Mr. Love on and off for about seven years. He comes to our place whenever he feels the need for rest and wants to get away from the world outside. He told me once,”…And you’ll never know how hard it is for me Jerry, I have to work all the time. Not just days but days and nights, I am always working. There are times that I don’t feel that I am wanted anymore…’’

               Mr. Love is old although he does not look like it. One would say when looking at him that he’s too young to be staying here with us at the rest home. He looks young until you look into his eyes, there his true age shows. When we talk he has corrected me many times in past conversations on things about history or about place in the world that I may have said something about.  He seems to know just about everything but yet we cannot get him to talk about his past. It is usually easy to get older folks to talk about their past but not Mr. Love, he just avoids the questions.

               Mr. Love is said to be the oldest living person in the world today. This reporter has spent time with him and found it hard to believe that this man that looks like he in his fifties could be the oldest person in the world. But all records indicate that he is indeed the oldest living person. His keepers and I use that term lightly, say that he is stable but doesn’t seem to have the will to live any longer. We will keep you updated on this unfolding story.

“Good morning Mr. Love.” That was all that I said. Looking over at him I could tell he was so mad, I couldn’t believe it, I have never seen him like this. I don’t understand what was bothering him. Turning I ask, “Sue, how was he last night?”  Sue looks great as she usually does. Slim, blonde and always put together nicely, never frazzled until today. “Jerry, I am really worried about him. All he did last night was moan and cry. I do not think that he slept at all. Something is really bothering him but he will not talk about it. Frankly I’m scared that he has given up and we will lose him.”

               Somehow it doesn’t seem right that he should be this way. I mean he is so young looking in spite of the test results about his age; he seems to have the weight of the world on his back. He just sits in that room looking at the pastel blue walls doing nothing. He does not even look out the window, just at the wall.  I asked him once, “Mr. Love, what are you thinking about?” He just looked at me and smiled that sad mournful smile like people at a funeral have.

               “I think about people Jerry, I think about what I have to do and what will happen when I do it. A lot of people will be very unhappy but the sad part is that they won’t even know their unhappy. They will think that the way they feel is just normal. I am very sad and I do not feel that I have the right to do it but I do not have a choice. I know all of this but it does not make my decision any easier.” He turned away from me then, crying. I just got up and left for I did not know what to say to make my friend feel any better.

Mr. Love is stable, this reporter tried to get into see Mr. Love today but I was informed that he is not taking any visitors. On another subject, it seems that war is getting nearer all the time. Seems like everyone that I know is feeling it, seems that most people cannot feel good about anything.”

               I am beginning to worry about Sue; she doesn’t seem to have that shine about her anymore. What a grumpy person she has become. Maybe she is just tired. “Jerry! Something is wrong, something is really wrong!” she says as she points to the blinking light above the door on the last room. As I run down the hall to that small blue room on the end I can hear people outside yelling at each other, I hear the sounds of broken glass and screams of pain. One resident even swung at me cursing as I ran by. When I got to Mr. Love’s room I was shocked. The room was a shambles and I just started yelling at Sue.

Mr. Love was sitting on the floor near the broken window. The wall paper was torn and discolored. It hung down in strips like some vandals had broken in and had their way with the room. The bed was torn apart and stained and the room smelled…..old. The carpet was faded and thread bare but that was not the worse, Mr. Love had changed. He looked old, really old. He was just sitting there on the floor not moving. I thought that he was dead. “Mr. Love, Mr. Love can you hear me?” He slowly looked up at me. He didn’t move but just looked up. “Jerry” he said in a tired voice, “I have fought and I have lost. I really tried but I just cannot fight any longer. I have lost and because of that the world has lost.” I leaned in closer to hear him better, “What” I asked, “I don‘t understand I”

               He raised his hand sharply and said, “Do not interrupt me, I do not have time and I must tell you something…..” I waited for him to continue afraid to say anything. It seemed that he did not have the strength to continue. “….about myself” he finished. “I am called Mr. Love but that is more than just my name. And because of what I am all people will now suffer. I have been alive forever; every since man became man and I thought that I would be here until man stopped being man but it seems that I will not. Do you understand what I am trying to say?”

               I just crouched there, my world coming down around me it was now suddenly clear who and what he was. All I could hear is others in pain, I felt hate around me. “Jerry, someone has to know what I am, someone has to know what it is that I am here for. I am dying because no one cares any more. I cannot go on, but you can go on and I will tell you how. The first thing you must do is………”

This reporter cannot comprehend what is happening. It seems that the world is coming apart. No one likes anything, wars between countries and fights between people. The divorce rate is unbelievable. Death and destruction is rampant. I even shot my dog this morning for barking. I cannot stand anything or anyone. God only knows what is happening; there is no love in the world.

               My name was Jerry; I am now called Mr. Love. I have a big job ahead of me. My job, as given to me by my friend who has died, is to bring love back into the world.