We Ain’t Die…

I’ve been busy. Well, not really. But shit has happened.

At the end of 2016, Urijah and I were moving. We moved. Alabama, which I like very much at he moment, now claims us as official residents. I’ve moved everything over except my business and the homeschool stuff (you have to homeschool ‘through your church’ in Alabama, and that’s not happening).

On the way to Birmingham, Atlanta tried to deny us access. Some moron ran a light and I t-boned him. Totaled my fucking car. The smell of the air bags was potent, and stuck to me, for almost a week. I remember driving and then suddenly my wrist hurt, my ears were ringing, and Urijah was screaming his fucking head off. Absolute chaos. There was a vicious anger/disbelief there as well, one I haven’t felt ever. And when I got out and saw all the shit, OUR shit, sprawled across the ground…

When I saw that two week old car, 400 miles on it, the one I got to peel the plastic off of, mangled and broken…

When I thought about the fact that we hadn’t even gotten out of Atlanta yet (thanks Metropolitan and Ralph David Abernathy)…

I fucking just crumbled.

A lot happened. Naaman came through for us in such a real way, and would again in coming days. I wrote this on Facebook:

Well. We ain’t die.

And I still go get the keys to this big, beautiful house in the morning. I have money to re-buy Urijah some clothes, and Rajesh some clothes, and me some clothes. I can buy ointment for our wounds. I still have my hands to write and my brain to create.

We’re still doing better than ever. Totaled 2 week old car, yeah. But it wasn’t my fault, and the guy explained that to the police.

I have a bit of faith restored in the amount of people who stopped, who jumped out to help push the guy’s car out the road, who grabbed Urijah out the car when they realized I was stuck. With the officer who went and searched through the car and all our things to find Urijah’s tablet when I told him Urijah was autistic and wouldn’t calm down without it.

My heart is beating a bit thicker. 28 and something new happened. There’s always that.

And I still got here. I’m sitting in Alabama right now, waiting for tomorrow, waiting for tomorrow to snatch me or throw me or guide me gently.

By now it’s obvious, you know. We’re still here no matter what happens next. At that point, at least, we ain’t die.

… … …

And now we’re here in Alabama and I’m thinking about life. Had a shit client call with Marge and a shitty client that reinvigorated my passion for becoming a novelist – that’s where I belong. Fuck business. Seriously, I truly hate business.

So I’m moving forward. I’m finding my own clients that don’t suck. I’m going to write my own stories every night, no matter how tired I am. And I’m going to keep Urijah and I happy. Well adjusted. Bathed in solitude but not alone.

We damn sure escaped.