I guess I tend to forget/block-out/repress the fact that I grew up in a situation that was quite different (at least in my mind) from where I am now. I also forget that there are certain cross overs that have access to the "full" story if you will. Mostly because they, much like I, tend to forget/block-out/repress.
I think most people I know would be surprised to find out that not only do I own a gun, I've fired everything from a muzzle-loader to a fully automatic. But, that's my "duality" if you will. I don't have any problems...ok, any major problems with it. I just tend to forget. So, to that end I must apologize to those that aren't inside my head with the circles that spin aimlessly. I guess yesterday's post requires an explanation for the majority of people who actually take the time to read this blog.
First, I want you to go here and read the post from April 18th, 2006. The background information and backstory will then become clear.
My experience with Jen included very little of the troubled past, etc. I met Jen when she was a junior and I was a sophomore. She was many things...captain of the academic league for her school, a cheerleader, intelligent, and a contender for the valedictorian race. She was also extremely articulate and quite beautiful. And, although attached, she had that one last winning item that fell into place...the hot younger sister.
And, then I re-met Jen at the Christmas party in 2003. At this point, we were all a decade or more out of high school. She was married, divorced, and in the midst of bad boyfriend hell. She was in mostly good spirits at the party due to the various "stuff" at the house. This was a completely different Jen and even though there were glimpses of the Jen I remembered, this one was harder for me to rectify. Her "duality" was even harder for me to wrap my head around. And in light of the funeral and all the memories swirling and poking their way to the surface, that manifested itself into yesterday's post. Within minutes of finishing the conversation with Joe, the first sentence kept hammering itself in my head to the point where I couldn't concentrate at work, on the way home, even intruding on the last home hockey game of the season (which I'll get back to at some later date) to the point where, when I sat down to write my normal blog-type post about Easter candy, Sid's 100th point, a new arena, and various other trivialities, that sentence was all that would come out. My mind wanted to rail against the unfairness of it all. 31 year olds are not supposed to die. So, in my way, to try and reconcile both sides of Jen's life and, I guess, ostensively my own I finished the poem. So, not to worry, in a few days I'll be back to my old normal sarcastic bitchy self...at least as far as some of you know.
One thing is for certain, Jen will not soon be forgotten.