The Hardest Part of Living With Someone

Dad died in 2009.  If you knew him you'd never forget him.  He had no problem meeting a stranger and no one would stay a stranger for long.  He flirted with the ladies, much to Mom's disdain.  Dad left a positive impression on everyone he met.  He worked hard and played even harder.  Dad once said he wanted to retire to a place where beautiful women were waiting on him hand and foot all the time.  You got to hand it to him, there were some beautiful nurses in the nursing home where he spent the last three years of his life.

Mom died in 2013. She spent much of her time isolated and never went out much as my little brother and I were growing up.  She couldn't drive and hated public transportation.  Her biggest ambition in life was to get a disability check. She hardly had any friends and of those friends, she had she milked those friendships to death and ultimately ran all of her friends off.  Her last three years on this planet were in what she called a hellhole, a nursing home in Lexington, TN, where the staff went out of their way to treat her like a human being instead of another patient waiting to die in those halls.

Comparatively speaking Dad and Mom were like oil and water.  As I grew older I failed to see what he saw in her.  Mom was very, very demanding.  Even though Dad drove for a living he also drove as Mom's personal chauffeur. Mom couldn't do anything on her own and always cited Dad as the reason she couldn't.  Dad, on the other hand, never questioned anything and always faithfully executed his duties without fail, that is until he could not drive anymore.

Dad never complained though.  Mom complained all the time.

Once I was talking with Dad while he was in the nursing home.  He started to look better.  Mom noticed and asked me if I would have a word with him about going home because, of course, she sure did miss having him around.

As I approached Dad with this a stern look of disgust landed on his face as he told me emphatically, 'No! I don't want to go home!'  

'Ok, Pop. I can respect that but can you tell me why?'

'Your momma will drive me crazy!'

So the truth comes out.  Dad not only get his beautiful women but he also managed his escape from his crazy life with Mom.  

Way to go, Dad!

By the way, I still miss you.

Howard Berryman, Sr. 1936-2009

Cheatin' Like In A Country Song

     "Well how do I know, I'm not there with you," this is a common complaint among women today and a few men. People are never sure of what their beloved, other half, girlfriend, boyfriend, lover, or romantic acquaintance is doing behind or in front of their backs. There is a more common story about the guy who went to war and came back to a girl who is no longer his fiance but had married someone else. This theme was popular in 1920's movies, now it seems to be much more fashionable to go on Craigslist and make new friends who all believe in time that they are each your fiance or romantic attachment. This is true for guys and girls, but it is not any less shameful when a person needs their friends to become their own private investigators so when your fiance gets tired of you and doesn't have the guts to break up with you before they go and find new fiances to string along.

   As much as I would like to require that every human being wear an ankle tracking device, this will not solve the problem of 'cheatin' achy-breaky hearts while all my exes live in Texas'. How can real relationships be formed if the sneaky people won't stop treating the hopeful people like chew toys because they are bored? Or is any relationship really safe if one person is always suspicious without reason and the other person works like a dog trying to be transparent and honest, and the suspicious one is usually the guilty one who is running around all over town. 

   This is usually the point on Dr. Phil, Oprah, or Jerry Springer where each side starts yelling and pointing fingers at the other while blasting profanity, accusations, and a lot of whiny crying. Each side is so perfect in their kind of wrong that the watcher stops caring who is right or wrong because truth is only in the eye of the beholder. It's kind of funny that's it's only after you start 'seeing someone' that they think that they have to hold you accountable of where you have been, who you talk to, and fact checking all of your stories while checking your cell phone. Then if you can still tolerate this juvenile behavior they start the same censorship of your credit cards, bills, and paycheck. What trust is there in that? Why all of this guilt-induced nagging? Bad behaviors are a sign of bad habits, and these should be fixed. 

   You meet someone, they want to get really personal really fast, as if it is their life's goal to own you, I think people call this being wanted. Then you get drugged on the feeling of being wanted and ignore all the other crazy manipulative crap that goes on because you are wanted....I mean owned by another person. Usually the owning type is a life time collector of other people's lonely hearts, then the relationship gets even more personal and emotionally abusive with your credit card history thrown in. This is no better than a self inflicted cycle of abuse, and you were conned by a soul collector who saw you coming a mile away. 

   A long time acquaintance of mine had a son who was a civilian special ops contractor, he found a sweet girl, then he was shipped out to Afghanistan for six months. When he got back, his fiance had a different fiance and two other boyfriends that she had found online. This poor boy thought love was somewhere in the equation of his life, instead he was conned by a soul collector with a pretty face and body. Then there was my own ex-wife who constantly claimed she couldn't prove I wasn't cheating because she was not with me 24 hours a day, and in the end I found out that she was the one sleeping with anything that would move while I driving the truck across country. This was not true love, because true love does not hurt others on purpose. There is that part of your soul that wants to feel something other than the freedom of the open road, and even if it's hurtful and negative always seems better than feeling nothing at all. Be smarter than this.

     Stay in school, do your home work, so when your friends find things out of where your sweet heart has been, the conversation will never bring up Craigslist.

No Rest For The Self Inflicted

     It is commonly understood that if you are tired then you should sleep. Yet even from a young we constantly fight the urge to stop, lay down, rest, then fall into actual sleep. Mother's across America will tell you, "He/she didn't have their nap today and they woke up at 4 o'clock in the morning, they're just tired. That's why they look miserable and are crying on and off uncontrollably," as you look at the mother who wants to act the same way her child is from her own sleep loss.
     Then you have the hard working adult who 'just wants one more minute' they tell themselves, for those few extra miles, for that last finishing touch on a craft project, for that last part of a TV program, for whatever those last few moments are for to stop us from letting go and getting the much needed rest.
     Many truck drivers have been know to drive illegally for 20 hours straight, this means that they are willing to ignore the laws that protect their sleep and safety. The same can be said for crafters and mothers a like who are finishing Christmas pageant costumes, cupcakes for a class bake sale, and any general illness that claims to only last for '24 hours' per family member. These are some of the simple things that we do or can't avoid to post pone sleep for the self inflicted.
     We live in a culture that is so sleep deprived with Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts, and Seven 11's that real rest is no longer valued. It's really hard to give a damn when you are too tired to smell the roses, and coffee really can burn out your taste buds so a steak will never taste the same again. What else are you willing to miss out on because so many pieces of yourself are too tired to enjoy them from your self inflicted lack of rest?
     We have become a culture of sleep apnea and obsession with instant gratification and ignoring our personal needs. Ever make a list of all the things you are too tired to do? This does not include joining a gym, going for daily walks, or eating healthier. This means doing things with other people, going places to be with other humans, and screwing your better half every night. They say that the evidence is in the details, and screwing is such an interesting detail to have in your life. Now get back on your treadmill, you need just one more minute on that computer, just one more minute with your hot glue gun, just one more minute......Zzzzzzzz

Working Christmas Eve

   Nobody knows love like eating ham and eggs on your way to work on Christmas Eve. So how do I mean this you ask, well the ham was a gift from my job at Northwest Propane and the eggs were cooked by my fiance so that I could have a quick meal in the morning when she wasn't there so I would not go hungry every morning while running out the door. It was part of her fight to keep me away from the golden tombstones, a.k.a. McDonald's drive-thru.
   I can't say that I could taste the care or love in the food while eating it at Southlake traffic lights, but I could feel the fore thought and consideration that people had for me in making sure I had been taken care of. This is during the time of year that depression, suicide, and an introverted sense of hopelessness takes control of many people who become the polar opposite of the Christmas spirit. This is when all feelings of loss, abandonment, joylessness, and a bottomless hunger that can never be satisfied takes over those who don't want to be saved or have given up the fight to be happy, or are just worn out from trying which they call pretending. They have shut their eyes to the little gifts in life that make daily life worth living everyday of the year, not just around the holidays. They can't see the bowls of eggs and ham for breakfast because their pain has closed their eyes and their hearts.
   This all also goes back to the time when I was in the hospital and I could feel God telling me to be more grateful for what I had which helped to make everyday is an adventure in my world. After this revelation of sorts, I really could appreciate the small things in life and see the blessings others give without anticipating repayment. I truly am grateful for the honey glazed hams from my work (which my fiance will make more food with than I can eat when she comes over), and all the little ways that my red head makes a big impact in my life. I will not reveal any sappy details about her, but I am always telling her that I love her more than she knows....but then she might, her cooking has made me lose weight since it is all real food....the stock market price just dropped for McDonald's.
 

Propane Tank In Paris

   Today I left a warm bodied red head sleeping in my bed, who woke up when I kissed her, grabbed my shirt and pulled me in closer. My mind is only a blur of this image as I drive to Paris Texas to install a propane tank. There is a ziplock bag of orange craisin scones complete with white glaze sitting on the seat next to me, she insists that she is not Martha Stewart, but my recent weight loss due to her cooking says otherwise. I don't think Hank Hill knows what it means to really be a propane guy, he doesn't deliver the gas, drive the transports, or set up the holding tanks all over Texas.
   The red head will be taking pictures for me today so that more items can be sold on Ebay, she says that the pictures are the contract between you and the buyer. I have a very efficient legal agent. These are some of the little things she does not make me not want to work today. She makes doing nothing the most desirable thing in the world...my memories of her include images of the naked photo shoot Marilyn Monroe did before she died...except I could touch her, and she made lasagna. I really don't want to work today.
   She makes being a truck driver painful, that every mile between means just as many that I have to travel back to reach a hot meal, quiet house, and a very relaxing bed. We truck drivers don't have many luxuries in life that happen on a daily basis, we have to wait until we are allowed to stop moving long enough to make the time to enjoy them. We crash a lot, as in we work until we can't go any more then we crash from the shear exhaustion and don't get to use or see much of the humanity around us, thus we are a little socially malnourished. Last night I crashed into bed, so tired and dead asleep, that I never heard my red head get out of the shower and come to bed looking like Marilyn Monroe from that photo shoot. This is just one of the many ways I feel as if death is winning and life lost a point in this game.
   Later we will talk antiques, shipping, billing fees, bubble wrap, and the cost of packaging peanuts, then how my hands hurt and that my shoulder is acting up. She will make me an ice wrap and massage a few of the hurt areas with her elbows, then put me to bed. If I don't start snoring within the first two minutes, she will run her nails over my skin and melt me like butter....this is when I am no longer a truck driver and do not have the mental capacity to decide anything. I am going to die now in the arms of a red head. Don't try and stop me....she made barbecue chicken.