Lost

I can’t remember the last time I saw her. But her image has always been burned into my mind. I remember being a young age the first time I felt empathy. Maybe I had prior, but this would be the first I recall knowing what it was. It felt helpless. I remember thinking of her knowing she was alone even though I was aware that her loneliness was brought on by her cat like persona, pulling people in only to later push them out.

It was like an art form, the way she was able to manipulate those who saw her beauty, her intelligence, her mystery. Bringing them in was easy for her. It was easy to be attracted to her long black hair, olive skin and petite figure. But her ability to adapt to others personalities, whether it was their kindness, intelligence or artistic mojo she was just that. She could be sweet and giving, even working with the mentally disabled, and doing it well, for a period of time. And then so cold, her glaring stare could burn a hole in your heart.

Being a younger sister to this maleficent being was, well, an interesting ride. In our younger years, we played like sisters did…at least I thought that’s what we were doing. Now, as an adult, I realize even back then, she had already shown signs of…something different. I will need a pardon on that one as I, and those who were closest to her, still don’t know what that “different” quite was. At first maybe it was the idea that something was a bit “off”. Then, as you spent more time in her presence, you could almost feel her negativity fill the room quickly like a cloud of smoke forming from the oven burning the last bit of oil that had dripped from the pan. It filled your soul, no matter how light your mood, somehow it would swallow you up and leave you as charred as the remains of that oil left to suffer at the bottom of the oven.

But then there were days where a smile might peak through. Something would connect you to her and she would glow like the sun setting over the warmest of waters. It would make you feel like you could be friends again. Remembering the days where you would practice your dance routine based on the show “Fame” that you both loved so much together. Or the nights spent painting pottery and watching “Night Rider” until the parents picked you up. Even though she was better than you in all facets of life be it painting or writing, hell even talking. Somehow at every age I felt I was in the presence of an extremely educated girl, a girl that never did come to graduate high school. It was impossible to keep up with my older sister, but that was ok. I only wanted her to like me.

The things that made her happy….punk rock music, guys with mohawks and Doc Martens, Fells Point (before it sold out), patchouli, beads and scarves and weird ass jewelry. But all those things were the things that my 10 year old self wanted so badly too, because they were nothing like anything I’d ever seen. While my friends were listening to Debbie Gibson and Van Halen, I was being pulled in by the sounds of Pink Floyd, Dead Kennedys, Sinead O’Connor, The Sugarcubes, Siouxie and the Banshees. I remember the blank cassette tapes in her handwriting she would give to me, dubbing the coolest new tracks. I felt like I was the only one my age privy to this information. Hanging with here punk rock, teenage friends, full of angst we would walk downtown and throw quarters in the sewer grate sipping on Jolt soda outside of the Pizza on Wheels. I was turning into somebody, somebody different than everyone else. And it felt cool. Not good, but cool. So I went with it.

Unfortunately for me, this was during a time when I would be entering middle school watching my friends move away to different schools leaving me with bus rides full of newcomers to town. Growing up in a safety net of a neighborhood, riding bikes and wondering through corn fields with my besties, that was all demolished to allow for affordable housing and the development demons that stole my childhood. The loss of my innocent childhood was unfolding before my eyes to be replaced with pissed off kids, complacent parents and years of defending myself from girls that thought I was trying to steal their boyfriends to boyfriends that only dated me to break up with me in front of the entire school, loads of gum in my hair and even an unbeknownst sucker punch to the eye.

I reveled this by buzz cutting my hair, wearing combat boots and pouring myself into my studies. This only made matters worse for me, of course. Middle school is already a cluster of puberty, emotions and awkwardness, unbeknownst to me, I just added a target on my back. But all I wanted was to be like HER.

The Enchanted Island

Neil told me a story tonight. I will do my best to remain accurate.

There is a place in the middle of the ocean called The Enchanted Island. But you can’t see it. Ships sail by without a notice. Unless you believe. On the island it is always dark. This is so the sparkles of blue and green can be seen that flow within the waters edge.

And within this island lies a portal. To access this gateway, no one quite knows, but if there is a story than it must exist. The portal will take you to depths of the ocean to places unseen by any man. Like entering space with no space suit where you are just free to observe the vast depths of the ocean and all the magnificent creatures that live there.

As if you are in a bubble protected, yet still very much vulnerable to a simple shift in wind, this is how they say it feels to enter the portal. This is why the island remains a secret. It is beautiful and unspoiled so in an effort to protect itself it remains a mystery. If your intentions are selfless and good, maybe the island will open itself up to you. Just maybe you will be lucky enough to float among the sparkles. And if you are quite brave and confident, maybe you will walk through the dense jungle of palm trees and sand to be rewarded with fruits filled with the most decadent of flavors and see magical sights of strange and beautiful animals living in the canopy of the trees. The purple and red frogs frolicking below, the tree monkeys flying up high with their wings and the horses that roam with their scales and fins allowing them to swim in the crystal waters that border the island.

But if you are false, you may not even see the island, better that you don’t. Because for those that are untrue dare enter won’t see the same beauty those that are genuine do. The frogs become black widows and the monkeys turn to vultures. The horses are dragons with breath of fire. And the portal will suck you in to the depths of the ocean where certain death awaits you.

Be kind, be genuine and just maybe the Enchanted Island will find its way to you. Just follow the shimmering waters and the warm breeze and remember to believe.

Ghost

My son, there will be times when you feel all alone. When the world eats you up and life is too much to handle.

There will be moments when you think you are the only one alive and no one can see you.

You will feel like a ghost and disappear through walls. You will shout out loud but no one will hear you.

There will be days where you can’t understand and ask why. And days others won’t understand you and not know how to answer.

My son, you will always be different. But your ghost will never disappear completely.

Because there will be times when you feel alive. When the cool breeze comes just when the sun was feeling too hot.

Days will come with laughter of those around you and there will be times you feel like everyone loves you.

The world will hug you and the loneliness will fade.

You will understand and why will turn into how.

Happiness will come to you as the leaves to the trees. When you find love, it will be within yourself.

And no matter where you are, you will know you are not alone in this world, but a part of it. Slowly spinning to face the warmth of the sun and the chill of the moon.

You see you don’t need to fit in to feel love. You will create your own happiness and others that want to share in your sunshine will join you.

You are the earth and I am your tree. I grow stronger each day that you are in my life. My limbs will provide you the ability to climb higher. My trunk a place to go when you need someone to lean on.

Be kind, be bold, be all the things that make you Neil. Reach, climb and fall. Don’t be afraid because you can walk through walls.