This Season
“For every thing there is a season, and a time for every matter …..”
-- Ecclesiates 3:1
I just dropped off a pile of completed paperwork at my cousin’s house. We reviewed that, and this week’s grand jury hearing on the case of the fellow who -- in an episode of “road rage” -- shot and seriously wounded my cousin, and killed his 26-year old son. I brought along my lady friend, who had accompanied me to the son’s funeral; my cousin was recovering from surgery at the time, and hadn’t met her.
It was fun to listen to the two of them talk “union talk.” She’s the vice president of the local teachers’ union, while he’s a retired carpenters’ union activist. She was recently at a training program that featured a coal miners’ union activist, and it turned out that he is someone my cousin knows. Both my cousin and friend are registered Democrats, and both are proud “leftists.” So you can imagine how fun it was for me to listen in on their conversation.
Yesterday, my cousin was in the hospital again. He had been experiencing extreme physical pain. And he is not the type to complain about discomfort, or low-to-moderate pain. I could see that he was having trouble breathing, because the pain was so intense. The doctor thought he had a hole in his bladder, which would require another emergency surgery. Tests showed that it was an abscess, about the size of a silver dollar. He’s on antibiotics to treat it, which is easier than another surgery.
The stark reality of his son being dead -- he died cradled in my cousin’s arms -- continues to be more painful than the abscess. Because he’s dealing with recovering from being shot himself, he is limited physically, and so even getting around his house is difficult. His father, who is 86-years old, is dealing (in part) with the loss by cutting and splitting firewood.
My uncle already has enough for the next two winters, but started on another supply to season ahead. I’m impressed by Elders who are this active physically. Both my aunt and uncle are active people, two of the most intelligent human beings that I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. They are both FDR Democrats, who find very few current politicians to meet their basic definition of what it means to be a true Democrat.
One of his nephews was at my cousin’s house yesterday evening when I was there, splitting firewood for him. He came in after doing the work, and the three of us sat and talked for a while. My cousin and I told him some stories about our grandfather -- his great grandfather -- who he was fortunate enough to know when he was a wee little boy.
My grandfather’s son was murdered in 1969, after winning a couple hands of cards at a local tavern. I remember that time period vividly, and of course, recent events bring it back into focus for those in the family old enough to remember it. There was not much of an investigation back then, as it was a time when the death of a “half-breed” Native American who lived in the margin of society -- in a house without electricity, providing for his family “off the land” -- didn’t count for much in the larger society. That it happened in a bar probably didn’t help.
Every so often, when I can’t be “busy” dealing with things such as piles of paperwork, or transporting my cousin to meet with someone connected to this case by way of the legal system, it hits me. My uncle being murdered; his son -- a US Marine -- being murdered over a $10 bag of weed, a generation later. My nephew being attacked and left for dead, by a racist “hate gang.” (The gang leader got a $50 fine for this.) I also remember when I was 15, and my sweet heart was raped and murdered by a thug, who used a chainsaw to try to dispose of the “evidence.”
There are times when all that pain and the utter loneliness that this type of separation from loved ones inflicts upon human beings, begins to wear my down. Yet, talking to this young man -- who has the same blood flowing through his veins that I have in mine, and that my grandfather had in his -- brings some relief, even encouragement.
I wish that this would be the last generation in our family to have to deal with this type of thing. But I do take some comfort in knowing that young men such as this wonderful young man will be here, to help guide our own through troubled times. I’ve noticed how he and others of his generation are studying -- closely -- some of the things I do to attempt to assure that justice (not “revenge”) prevails. I’m honored to have the opportunity to do so.
Peace,
H2O Man
= new reply since forum marked as read
you write about so much that is beautiful and full of love.
Don't let the pain wear you down. You have way too much to teach the rest of us.
Thanks for this OP WaterMan. 
I guess I just want to acknowledge.
