I had lived with my mother my whole life. In '95, after graduating high school, I went to the University of Nebraska for a semester. Things didn't go well - I had a little too much fun. So I moved back in with my mother. It wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but...well, yeah. About a year later, my mother ran into some health problems and couldn't work anymore. I had been going to a local community college, but I dropped out to go to work full-time and take care of the woman who had previously taken care of me.

I did that for about 10 years. I would work 6 days a week. I'd get to work at 10:30am and get home at 10:30pm. I would have about an hour or two off around 2pm-3pm (that depended on how busy we were). When I wasn't working, I was at home. If my mother needed something, I was usually there or would be there shortly. When my grandfather passed away, my mother came into a little money and I was able to go back to school.

Then I met Amy. We dated. We got engaged. We got married. Somewhere between the "dating" and the "engagement" we moved in together. My mother was on her own - something, I discovered, she was not happy about nor prepared for. We had lived together for nearly 30 years, and for 10 of those years we only had each other.

Since I moved out about two years ago, my mother has become lonely. So today, I took her to go get a cat. One of the things that had prevented her from getting one earlier was the memory of our dog who passed away a few years ago, Samantha. Sam was a dog of epic proportions (I realize every dog owner says that about their dog). Part-Chow, part-Golden Retriever, Sam's only concern was protecting my mother and I. She was with me whenever I was home and with my mother when I wasn't. At night, she slept at the foot of my mother's bed. You would've been wise to not make any sudden movements towards my mother during this time. My mother's fear was that regardless of the pet she got, she would compare it to Sam and that pet would then fail by comparison. I talked to her about it and told her, "They're different pets," "Don't compare them," "All pets are great in their own way," etc.

I think I finally convinced her. She was nervous about going to the Humane Society. But when we walked in, all that disappeared. She saw a cat she liked and asked to see it. It was a tiny, 2-month-old black cat. The lady brought him in and he immediately ran and jumped into my mother's lap. It was perfect. I had feared that she'd get a cat that wasn't real sociable and didn't like anybody and take it the wrong way. Luckily, this was not that cat.

"What are you going to name him?" I asked.
"Ozzy," she said.
"Ozzy? Why Ozzy?"
"Because of Ozzy Osbourne," she replied.

My mom has some weird fascination with Ozzy Osbourne. I have no idea why or where it came from. It's really quite disturbing actually.

So I just got off the phone with my mother and her and Ozzy are doing fine. He has only left her lap once, and that was just to get something to eat. Well, actually it would be twice because my mom said when she went to take a bath she could see little paws coming through the gap at the bottom of the door. But my mom seems really happy and Ozzy seems really happy.

Thank you, Ozzy. Thank you for bringing a bit of order to my small galaxy.

One thing I think everyone has in common is experiencing a life-changing moment - whether it be a specific event,  meeting someone new, watching a movie, music, etc.

I've had three such experiences:

1) The day my mother and father told my brother and I that they were getting a divorce. I was 5-years-old at the time, but I remember it like it was yesterday. They called us inside and sat down on the couch. I was a short kid, and I remember barely being able to see over the arm of the couch. My mom was crying. My brother, who's five years older than me, understood it a bit better than I did. He was crying, too. Me? I asked if I could be the daddy now. (corny and cheesey, I know, but I really did ask). A year and a half later we're moving from Augusta, Georgia to Omaha. That was 24 years ago (Sept. '84). Since then I've seen my dad about half a dozen times, if that. Currently, I haven't seen my dad in two years. Prior to that, it was 11 years. We rarely talk. We're just too different. I think he thinks that I hate him and blame him for the divorce, which I don't. It's no one's fault. Simply put - it is what it is, and that's what it is. It's no one's fault.

2) One day when I was a freshman in high school I faked being sick so I could stay home. In the course of that day I became bored. So I started going through my mother's old vinyl albums from the 50s, 60s and 70s. I eventually came across this bright-yellow album with strange purple writing. It was called "Are You Experienced?" by the Jimi Hendrix Experience. I put it on the record player. At the very first note of "Purple Haze" my world was transformed. My small, black and white world exploded outwards in a dizzying array of colors. I've never seen things the same. All univeral possibilities became open.

3) When I read the book "The Biggest Secret" by David Icke. It's a conspiracy book. I won't go into details; there's far too much information for that. However, like my Hendrix revelation, the book made me see things differently. I don't agree with every theory in the book. But it shows the world and how it works in an entirely different light. It is that which is its ultimate benefit. Think outside of the box. Look at all angles. Consider every possibility. Go where the truth leads you. There is nothing which can conquer truth. Truth never dies. It may be blocked, or postponed. But it never dies. Truth always rises to surface eventually.

So...there you go.

About three months before my wife and I got married my mom called my brother and I to her apartment. When I got there, she and my brother proceeded to lambast me for over three hours. They accused me of spending all of my mother's money (not true). They accused my wife of marrying me in some covert attempt to steal my mother's money (not true). They accused me of not caring for my mother (not true, I was the one who lived with her for 10 years and took care of her and supported her). They then tried to convince me that I wouldn't be able to go to school anymore because I was getting married (I have no clue where they pulled that one from). My mother was mad because she no longer had my undivided attention. My brother was mad because he was going to have to assume a bit more responsibility for my mother. It was three hours of selfish, insensitive, illogical and unproductive banter. My mother ended it by saying, "I can still do stuff to you that you might not like." (I'll never forget those words.) That could mean many things. More than likely, however, she was threatening to take me out of her will. Other things were said, too. But you get the general idea.

Things haven't been the same between the three of us since then. I'm afraid things will never be the same. Some wounds just cut too deep.

   

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