On Death and Family

My uncle Everett Henderson died yesterday.

I would like to tell everyone all about him but I really can't.

I don't know his middle name.

I don't know how old he was.

I don't know where he was living.

I don't know what he has been up to the last few years.

I do know he used to drive truck (as we call it back home) and he sometimes hauled Christmas trees from Nova Scotia to Florida. Or at least I think I know that.

I know he was married twice but I don't remember his first wife's name.

I know he has at least 2 children, not even sure about that, but I couldn't tell you their names if you put a gun to my head.

I should know all these things but I don't.

I don't know these things because I systematically cut myself off from friends and family. Every time someone gets too close, I back away. Why do I do that? Wish I knew. I have some theories but they are best for a place and time that are far less public than my blog (or facebook, I think I autopost my blog there).

I hadn't seen my Uncle Everett in 25 years or so.

I haven't seen my brother since his son was very small.

I sort of keep in touch with one of my sisters but the other I don't. Both of my sisters try, I just don't try very hard back.

I haven't seen my parents in at least 2 years, maybe more... I lose track.

I wouldn't recognize most of my aunts, uncles and cousins if they were paraded past me.

I am not even going to start talking about all the friendships that I have neglected over the years. There are too many to even contemplate.

I don't write this because I want to hear some "oh poor rob" comments. If I get any of those in public places I will delete them. I lost moments and memories that most sensible people spend their lives cherishing. No, I didn't lose them. I threw them away.

Things have to change. I just don't know if I can fix the habits of nearly a lifetime. I do know that I have to try or I am going to end up alone. I used to think that I wanted it to be that way, I have always been a bit of a hermit. For some reason, Uncle Everett's death just gave me a big shake.

I don't believe in Heaven and Hell. I don't believe in spirits and ghosts and all of that stuff. For one moment I wish I did, because I would like to thank Everett for the wakeup call. But I can't, and that is my own damn fault.