redemption

What do you do when black becomes white, white becomes black, and there’s so much gray you wish that you’d wake up out of this Kansas tornado nightmare/dream to find color again so you could really see? Please Glinda, help me.

It’s been like that here for weeks. The bad guys have become good guys. The good guy has turned bad.

One, who has hurt many people over the course of his lifetime steps up and says he will help, then gets scared, then when the firestorm calms and he is sure he won’t get burned in the process, follows up with his words and promises and helps me do something that I would have no way of doing on my own.

Another, who did a Really Bad Thing a long time ago and paid the price for it, who everyone still wonders about, comes to my rescue with the essentials of life.

The third, who looks to the outside world to be benign and kindly as your local dairy farmer is kicking me as hard as he can, knowing full well I am already down and have been for so many years that there is nowhere else to go but up or die and frankly right now terminal cancer sounds like a great idea. What kind of person kicks someone who’s already down? Does that make him feel like a Big Man?

Then there are two new players who, through their continued kindness and perceptions, managed to get me through the end of the worst of the shitstorm and convinced me that those who were screaming “off with her head” the loudest were really the ones with the problem. Deep down I knew that, but when you hear all the insanely crazy for so long, you almost drink the Kool-Aid and start to doubt yourself.

And God Help you if you tell the politicians the truth. They don’t want to hear it. This is Camelot, you know. Everything Is Perfect.

So you’ve got two that you thought were really bad that maybe aren’t totally, and you’ve got one you thought was good who has turned hateful and vengeful and doesn’t care, by golly he will get even, even though that getting even is the equivalent of kicking a dog and will create him some noticeable bad Karma and probably already has because the news of his spitefulness has spread like wildfire and this is the one instance I’m grateful for the grapevine of gossip.

So it’s all a jumbled up mess, isn’t it? No one is as they seem, no one is as you thought. It’s the bowl of vanilla ice cream you’ve just dumped chocolate syrup on, when you were a kid. First it’s black and white and the delineations are clear, then you start mucking around with your food and pretty soon you’ve got a swirling mess of every shade of gray imaginable and you’re not quite sure what to do with it.

Nothing in life makes sense anymore. Only the sun coming up, the weeds growing, the pets wanting to be fed, the sun sets.

All I know is my life will never be the same again. And all because I didn’t want it to be the same….I wanted it to be better.