Let the Blame Rest with Me

Getting ready to lay down for a nap as I have to be on-air at midnight, so I figured I’d get an early jump on this as there’s a couple of things on my mind…

Kyle received an invite from an organization called, ‘People-to-People,’ to go over to Japan for 14-days of study. I don’t know much about this group or even how much it costs to do something like this, but I’m pretty tickled for him.

We have a general information meeting to attend in September. That is when we’ll find out more info on this opportunity.

I was never offered a chance like this when I was in high school, but then I wasn’t a good student like Kyle.

The second thing on my mind has created some consternation within me. I emailed an ex-girlfriend, whom I had not seen since 1998 and then 1982 before then.

She emailed me back, and in one of the most polite drubbings I’ve ever been given, she said she didn’t want to keep in touch because her memories of me were not all that happy. I seem to recall that ten years ago she glared at me as we sat in the dance hall of the convention center where our 20-year class reunion was being held, but I didn’t put much thought to the look of dislike or hatred, but it was there and I put it in the back of my mind.

So much has happened with my life, that I am unable to remember every detail that has occurred, so I have always kept a journal. I have an entire book case and wooden box filled with journals of all sorts.

Sometimes I wrote about events in a straight, orderly fashion,  at times in the form of a poem and other times as a short story. In the case of this former girlfriend, I detailed the ups and downs of our relationship in both poetry and short stories.

My early daylight hours today were spent researching what had happened way back then and why she’s so bitter towards me. Now I wish I hadn’t opened that Pandora ‘s Box.

Back then I got blamed for smashing in her brother ‘s car window because I was seen running past the front windows of a local grocery store. The ex was at a popular restaurant/bar in Crescent City with a friend, her brother and his wife, when the car was trashed.

Oh, I was there, but I didn’t cause the damage. That’s not to say that I don’t know who did the dirty deed.

But when it happened I ran as fast as I could from the scene because I know in that I’d get blamed for it. Perhaps I should have waited for the police, then maybe the remainder of the night wouldn’t have gone as it did.

Shortly after dark, I was with my brother Adam and his friend, when they got into a fight over a car and Adam was severely slashed. It was so bad that his right kidney hung from his lower back and it became a real battle to keep him from bleeding to death before getting him to Seaside Hospital.

It took several hours and hundreds of stitches, but thankfully the doctors and nurses saved his life.

With all of that going on I had forgotten the car widow smashing and what followed in the same parking lot a couple of weeks later. My former girlfriend’s brother and wife confronted me and the three of us got into a fist fight.

According to my notes, I threw the first punch. And while I’m sorry for what happened, and if I could go back and prevent it, I would, but I can’t.

As of yet, I’ve not been asked who damaged the car and now, so many years later, I wouldn’t tell because it would jus’ open another wound for someone else, and who needs that trouble. I’m happy to take the blame if it means keeping the peace — hated or not.