Enlightenment and Nachos

06/25/24 [UPDATED 08/01/24]

I have had to access some deep stuff for school. Years I locked away as safe and in doing so I thought them in no need of further inspection. I took them out like fine porcelain and laid them out to admire and display, to show off the peak of my childhood before it was gone. There were gasps, cheers, quite a few boughs of laughter; and of course they all said how nice it was. Oh, the applause!

Then I put them back one by one, carefully cleaning and inspecting them one last time before they go back on the top shelf… and then I see it.

One of my early therapist, back college station, told me I should write about that last year before my grandfather died. It was one of the years locked away in this same cabinet. Down there tucked into the bottom corner, the last remnants of any innocence or lack of understanding, like the punchline to a joke decades before I hear it. It will make a great story but to tell it I should set the stage. I gave the CliffsNotes version to class; so now obviously my brain refuses to let me put it away until I tell the whole story…

It wasn’t some new crack or chip, just a flaw I had not noticed before. with the final softest clink imaginable I set them down and stood back looking at my treasured youth. The stuff I did not get to tell anyone. It started from fourth grade and ended in eighth, and every year harder than the last. These things I simply did not want to process all added up to, and ended in that moment.

It is not easy to write about it but to be honest fourth grade was the beginning of the end of my childhood. I can see now like layers of delusions being peeled back. When you hear people say they had to grow up fast I worry those of you who grew up in a more normal childhood may struggle to understand some really complex and messed up things. If those delusions are still in place for you things might sound bearable, but have taken lives on an hourly bases.

Delusions are useful, until they are not. Afterwards they are just dangerous. Humans are so proud of having opposable thumbs that they think letting go of ideas is a bad idea. When I realized what growing up actually meant, I was sad. I mean depressed for the rest of my life kinda sad, but its only mild to moderate. As long as I remember to stay safe, I can have a lot of fun… I start ignoring my seatbelt, please say something.

Learning such truths early can be hard, even as an adult. Stories are our my preferred method of teaching and learning. So being asked to share these stories is rather difficult. TO BE CLEAR: I have cried over these memories for years before I even learned to cherish them. Any tears I have left for them are those of joy. They were they last years I had with the man who raised me. My grandfather; the greatest man I have ever met. Because no other words begins to fill the place in my heart; the first man I ever loved, and my hero.

And it all began in the fourth grade with a bag too heavy to carry, and a protest gone wrong.