Book of Jamez

55 y/o malcontent, something of a writer

Category: Friends

  • Phyllis

    Five years is a long time to stay at one job, and remain consistently good at it, but Phyllis did it. She’s been with the Project CHAMP program since her arrival at Children’s and has become a welcome fixture in the department.

    Phyllis always has a smile, a kind word, an exhilarating laugh to brighten a day. It was always nice to see her walking down the hall in the morning, passing by my desk with a smile and a wave… Always asking: “What are you up to?” with a childlike curiosity as I was wearing an evil grin I’m sure. She is my Amazing Race buddy, the person that I talked to about our favorite players, and the stupid things people said or did on the show.

    She’s named for a beauty queen you know, and she is a beauty to outshine all others. As if she has stolen the glamour of a hundred women and added their beauty to her own, not just her appearance but the radiance of her heart and her love. She loves the kids we serve, loves the people she works with and is a true testament to the love of God and family.

    The wonderful thing about her moving on is that she will continue to work in this field and help the families to be the best they can be. She is the beacon of hope in an otherwise hopeless life, a way out of the darkness.

    Phyllis, truly I wish you all the best in your new endeavors. I know your leaving is a sad event at Children’s, but I know you have touched the lives of all you’ve had the pleasure to work with.

  • Kick of the past

    Self Defense class, first actual learning. We learned how to stand, hold our hands, pay attention and pivot. I’m sore in places I didn’t know I had places, but I know it was a great workout which pleases me.

    The instructor went on to show us a kick, and the kick triggered something in my mind. He showed us the kick again, but this time I saw someone else kicking a figure from my past, my childhood…

    Bruce was the toughest kid I ever knew, his nickname was Tiny, and unlike most people with that moniker he was in shape. I don’t know that he participated in sports or anything, but he loved karate and the martial arts. The kick was something I had seen him do often enough, not to any actual people, but just to show me he could perhaps. A quick stab of his leg into the air and back again almost quicker than the eye could see.

    I wasn’t the kind of kid to go out looking for fights, and I don’t recall Bruce that way either, but if I were ever to be faced with one, I had hoped he would be at my side. Not for the kick, but because he was that kind of friend-loyal and true.

    When my Mom was dying, it was Bruce to whom I sent money for groceries for her. It was Bruce who I called to see if I should go home.

    Some people are like that, good people from the time they are little kids and into adulthood. True friends last that lifetime, beyond states, throughout history, beyond fathers and mothers… true friends are a treasure.

  • Rocket in Flight

    His name was Rocky, but his mom and dad called him Rocket. In his eyes you saw undying love and devotion. He would eat anything and everything: mail, dog food, caulking guns, slippers…

    He peed whenever he got happy… which was all the time, he was the happiest dog I have probably ever met.
    “Hi Rocky” dog pees….
    Look in an area NEAR Rocky and the dog pees….
    Pet Rocky dog pees…

    He honestly was the most loveable, he sat when I told him to sit. He would rest his head on my knee during barbecues. His tail wagged extra hard when I was outside with him (lettting him pee of course) just petting him or giving him a kiss on the head. He was comfortable in his own cage, his bed if you will… the door wide open, but it was where he felt safe.

    Rocky was put to sleep tonight, January 9th, 2006. He had a tumor in his lungs that wasn’t letting him breathe properly.

    Rocky is survived by his Mom and Dad, brother Simba, and two sisters Destiny and Cotton. He truly was an angel in dogs skin, and my heart longs for one last hug.

  • The Return of the Beast

    Donna M. and Chris S. sent me an unusual gift….

    They said it was coming, and I assumed: cookies (love peanut butter cookies, feel free to send some), or World Of Warcraft subscription card or even a comic book….

    The UPS guy arrived, knocked at the door to be sure someone was home and then went to get my package. He brought the cart out, the cart? That’s a lot of cookies or comics… wait… maybe they sent me Spiderman from work… Nope, he discards the cart and just lifts the box… its huge what the hell is it? As he gets closer I see the name brand on the box: Insignia.

    “They bought me a phqn TV?” I exclaim… and then quickly say “I’m sorry, please excuse my language…”

    “No problem, you must have some nice friends.” He says.

    You have no idea… I have the best of friends. Thank you to Donna and Chris… such weirdo’s.

  • The Spirit of Christmas II

    Have they all been bad? No. Has it changed since you have gotten sober? a little

    My second year of sobriety, and Christmas was fast approaching, I actually had a job and money which were both rare at the time. I actually wanted to buy gifts for my two best friends, but it was very hard. They both had really good jobs and I could not afford to buy them anything that would compare to what they would buy me. I found myself in tears (making it a true holiday) in a department stores jewelry department, just trying to figure out what to do. They each got a pendant with three leaves, a leaf to represent each one of us… kinda lame think? Then on my 3 year AA birthday they gave me a gold watch with 2 leaves and a diamond on the face and said: we are the leaves, you are the true gem!

    So, no not all bad.

    Or, my second year in DC, finally a really good job, lots of money and time to buy gifts for my family in Wisconsin without actually having to go there. My siblings are unemployed, my mother unemployed standard fare for the family. Having a job and money, I told the siblings that I would pay for Mom’s gift from all of us. I bought her a nice heart shaped diamond pendant and a ring to match and shipped them to WI. The siblings teased her and teased her for 3 weeks straight about what the gift would be; toilet paper, dirty socks or any number of silly items. Come the day of X-mas eve they had her do the dishes before she could open her gift, in all of my life the one thing I cannot remember seeing is my mother doing dishes. They kept the torture up and waited for the VERY LAST GIFT, and taking so very many pictures before she could open it up… tears and tears and tears some more (making it a true holiday). Mom loved it, and the ring fit right there on the spot. Course, then the siblings got mad cause I was showing off, and claimed the gift was just from me.

    Happy Phqn Holiday!

  • The Spirit of Christmas

    A cold December morning, a car filled with packages, people and pain. So little room that there is a pie between my feet in the back seat. All four of us kids are in the back seat, Dad and Mom sit in the front, the smell of last nights alcohol still seeping through their pores.

    The car travels slowly up Grandpa’s ice covered mile and a half drive, as we approach the house we see the other relatives cars already having arrived. The car comes to a stop and we all start to exit the car, I bend to grab the pie and turn to shut the door. My footing is not secure and I slip precariously on the ice, the pie is lost from my grip and I watch as it falls to the ground as if in slow motion, my hands grasp to catch it just to save this one pie, but I fail.

    “You’ve ruined my Christmas,” my mother wails “can’t you do anything right!” and she turns and walks up the sidewalk, never turning to see the despair in my eyes.

    Happy Phqn X-Mas

  • Turkey Eve

    Happy festivities to all of you, hope you all eat entirely too much and have a wonderful time with your family.

    Try to remember my philosophy:

    “It’s not a real holiday unless someone cries”.

  • DIVORCE

    I’m in a position that is unfamiliar to me, between two people that want a divorce. I know and love both people, and have known them as a couple for about ten years now. There is no violence, adultery, lying, stealing or murder… Just a drifting apart and perhaps a change in ideologies.

    When I was a kid, a divorce could have stopped the beating of my mother a hundred times over. I’m one of the first to suggest divorce when someone has cheated on the other, I understand the dangers of verbal abuse and mean people… But, I don’t understand drifting apart. I don’t understand falling out of love.

    I wonder have they thought of their empty bed? Have they considered meals without that person? Do they think back and reflect on the good as well as the bad times?

    There is no argument right now, but I feel trapped in the middle of things. I feel like the child torn between two parents I love… Damn, I’m a kid all over again.

  • Surprising Questions and Nasty Aroma's

    On my way into a meeting Friday night my best friend called.

    “Want to go to a gay bar?” She asks.

    My straight, married, SOBER, best friend. But, sure why not, lets go check out the local guys.

    This nights events were much better than my last experience at The Garage where the men were the cause of sore eyes. However, besides the fact that they were young and hairless at this bar(except for a few scary looking guys) I ended up smelling of smoke.

    The smoke from the bar clung to everything, it was nasty. The smell was on my hands, on my jacket, everywhere… the cats even retracted in disgust when I arrived home.

    The next day my jacket still reeked of smoke… nasty, nasty habit…. glad I’m rid of it.

  • Number 3029 – Race for the Cure

    First I want to thank everyone (Anonymous, Zelda, Scott, Julie, Hans, Dr. D, Christy & Peter, Erika, Jeri, Julianne, Rashida, Courtney, Brett, Denise, Ms. Elliott, Denise, Diana, Eric, Jen, Ann, Kim, Donna M, Michelle, Chris S, Rita, Harriet, Rachael, Sonia) who contributed to my race we raised $925 which was the most a single person raised at my school, so thank you. Second, I’d like to thank all the extra calls, emails, cookies that came to keep me motivated much appreciated. Third, October is National Breast Cancer Awareness month… do self breast exams regularly, get a mammogram (You know who you are)… donate money and by all means wear a pink ribbon.

    Now for the details of the race:

    I didn’t sleep well, thoughts of the race swirled in my head most of the night, and the sound of the coffee pot at 5:25 a.m. came much too soon. I said a few prayers, had a bowl of cereal and paid a sparse amount of attention to the cats before jumping in Randy’s truck and heading off to the beach.

    The beach was filled with people in pink t-shirts. Sponsors had booths set up everywhere (Ford, American Airlines, Kellogg’s, Yoplait…) one of the local radio stations broadcasted live in the center of the booths. I find my schools pick up area and get my number, 3029, on the back of my shirt I pin a pink banner that says: In Memory of Susan Zamer.

    Waiting for the race to begin is an experience that is hard to describe. There is a man wearing a shirt that says “In honor of my Mom, Sherry 1956 – 2005”, a little kid in a stroller whose shirt says “In Celebration of my Mom”. There are t-shirts scattered about that explain how to do a breast self exam, there are pink wrist bands, pink shoelaces, pink, pink, pink…

    The race finally begins and I turn on my MP3 and go. Not even half-way through I want to stop and walk, I see other people walking, I surely could… then I see the guy running ahead of me with the shirt for his Mom “Sherry” and I keep running.

    Water, finally there’s some water… where have these people been, hand out more water for God’s sake…

    I get tired again, I want to walk… I close my eyes and think of Susan and her struggle, did she quit fighting? Did she give up? I tear up, but I keep running.

    I get tired again as we approach a turn, there are people there, I can hear them cheering us on OVER the sound of my music. I tear up, and I keep running.

    I can’t do this, what was I thinking, I have to stop… I think of my Ma surviving and the strength she showed during the whole ordeal. I tear up, and I keep running.

    I finally have to stop; the pain in my stomach is too much… I walk for a half a block, and then take off running again.

    Shouldn’t there be more water, where are you people? Oh, there they are, I can run that far, I need water, I get two small cups of water… I start to slow down, I’m so tired…

    A woman, a survivor, grabs my arm and says “come on, we’re almost there, we can do it”… she inspired me to keep going, she kept pace with me wouldn’t let me slow down kept me going to the end.

    I ran the 5K in 32.24 minutes, and I raised $925.00 thanks to all of you.