When I started telling our story it was just going to be a little blurb about our journey to Jesus, but somehow I can never just tell a short story, and so as some of my beautiful friends have suggested, it has become a short novel or one act play. If you will forgive me, I have to finish at this point or I will feel incomplete. So with out further ado, the saga of two star crossed lovers will proceed.
There I was back on the islands in Washington, Orcas island to be exact. I was trying to recapture some of the magic I had lost since I had left, but something was missing. I was all twisted up and no amount of drugs was really taking the bleak, black feeling away. So I did what I always do when I feel like that, I wrote.
I don't really remember the majority of what I wrote. I suppose it was short stories and dark beat style poetry along the line of Lawrence Ferlinghetti, but for the most part I don't remember. There is one story I do remember. It went something like this, there was this Father and he had a teen age daughter. He loved his daughter very much, but she became sick with cancer and died. So the Father, who was a lumber jack, found this giant old tree that had been struck by lightening and died and he carved the dead tree into a beautiful angel in memory of his beloved daughter. The End. It may not have been Tolstoy, but for me it was to be the start of a journey home. The story was an expression of the pain I was in and somehow that pain was manifesting in the loss of a child that I didn't even know yet. I had a black hole in my soul and I didn't know what to do about it. I was lost and now somewhere out there, there was going to be a little baby who would never know this jacked up person who was her Father. How had this happened? I had always imagined that I was going to be an awesome Dad, but that was so far from the truth now.
If you believe in God, and you think that it is possible for him to use any circumstance to reach out to His beloved, then you will understand what I am about to say. It was at this point that I felt Gods Spirit reach out and shake my heart. Mind you I didn't know it was Him at the time, but looking back I can see Him all over me. I couldn't take it. I called up Paula, back in San Diego, to find out how she was.
Well as you can imagine, being two dysfunctional people as we were, we felt like things were better. I missed her. She was lonely living in my home town were she only knew my parents. After a few phone calls back and forth it was obvious, we had to get together again. The problem was that we were three states apart. I figured it was a no brainer she should come back to the beautiful San Juan Islands where we had met. The beautiful islands where you could live life how ever you wanted. The magic islands. She would have loved to, but she couldn't leave her fern. See she had this beautiful Boston fern that she had bought and in all reality it was her only friend in San Diego. (Remember I was going to be a plant Shaman so it didn't seem so weird)
Well I tried, but she wasn't coming with out the fern, so either I was going back or it was over. Somehow I had it in my mind that it wasn't over, so that meant I had to go back. I looked at the consequences of going back. If I went back and if blew-up again I would have nothing. I would be forced to leave and figure out what to do with my life. Being that I had nothing right now and I didn't know what to do with my life I figured I didn't have much to loose, so I went for it. I flew back to Escondido.
It was amazing. She was a different person. She was nice. She was sweet. We liked each other again. Life was great. I decided to not go back to work for my dad again, (Nothing like being ashamed) and looked around for waiter jobs. There was one great restaurant in all of Escondido at the time that was of the caliber of restaurant I had worked at in New York. I applied and got a position as a lunch staff waiter. I figured I would work my way up to nights where the real money was. Paula was pregnant. We were back in love. We lived in a cheep little apartment and I was making minimum wage, plus tips. Life was great.
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