She walk's alone down the street at night. Alone in the dark, alone in the world. She prays to God for her life to end. Will God answer her prayer? Will her life end? Or has it just begun?
Tuesday, January 01, 2002
Ginny and I
As I sit here listening to my treasured copy of the Moondance Album by Van Morrison, I had come to realize that I hadn't yet adopted the annual tradition of making a New Years resolution for the, well, for the New Year. I suppose I have the music selection to thank for this sudden revelation, because it has just the right arrangements of songs that I needed to stop feeling sorry for the love that I once had, and lost. To stop feeling sorry for myself and to put my greatest gift to the test. You see, I have this hunch that if I could put my feelings down onto paper, and somehow get my lost love to see how I felt, then perhaps there is a chance that I will see her again, soon.
I am sure that some of you are familiar with that old Van Morrison album. I listened to the songs Moondance, then Crazy Love. followed by the eternal Into The Mystic. After those songs came These Dreams Of You, and then the real clincher Brand New Day.I don't want to get into the particulars of the song, but if you have never heard it, listen to the song after you read this, and you'll agree that I've got plenty reason to feel a certain amount of affinity with the song Brand New Day. Trust me when I say that I am not motivated into writing this just to create a resurgence of interest into any particular album, but if I should happen to cause a spike in sales, so be it. I just want to give credit where credit is due.
So, without further ado (always wanted to say that) let me get to the gist of the story (that too!) and tell you about me and Ginny. It was a particularly cold New England night. December 16th 1999. It was a little after 7:30 and I was just out for a drive. I don't remember if I was out for any particular reason, maybe I just wanted to get away from the empty apartment for a while. You know how Decembers can be, nobody wants to be alone. As I was driving through the streets of my hometown of Lowell, I saw this equally lonely looking lady walking along. I couldn't forgive myself if I didn't stop and offer some sort of greeting, so I pulled up and just sputtered out a casual "hi, how are you" as if we had know one another. She quickly replied "I'm freaking freezing and I am thirty miles from home."
Capitalizing on her plight, I seized the opportunity to spark a possible friendship and I offered her a ride home. Surely, I could build some sort of bond in thirty miles. Now I have never been exactly gifted when it comes to wooing the women folk, but it seemed that nothing got in the way of my winning her trust and friendship that night. So off we were, bearing towards the highway that would take her home. Ginny and I fell easily into conversation. Before long, she disclosed to me that she was in a bit of a dilemma. It seemed that even though she lived thirty mile away, she still nonetheless had to return to Lowell the next day for a doctors appointment. But she truly had no way of getting back out here. Maybe it was because I had to work the next morning, maybe it was because I wanted to further capitalize, all I know is I suddenly find myself offering to let her stay at my place for the night. I wasn't even self-conscious of the fact that my place was an upside-down mess. All I know was that I really liked being with her.
By the time we got to my place, I found out that Ginny was more or less alone in the world herself, that she was just sort of "sleeping over" wherever it was that she called home. I also found out that she had a serious drug problem. She was a women in need of help, in need of a friend. In need. And she was soon to discover, judging by the state of my apartment that I too was a person in need. I was very much decided that we were two lonely people in need of one another. And that I did not want anything to separate the two of us. I've heard of love at first sight, well, in our case, it became love at first night. Please don't take that out of context, I mean it in only the purest, sincerest form. It was love at first night.
·
Well, over the next Ten days, Ginny and I became closer and closer. We were like Two castaways stranded on a deserted island, helplessly drawn towards one another. For the first time in my life, I had somebody to cuddle with, somebody to fall asleep with, somebody to fall in love with. And the odd thing was, I think this was all a first for her too. She, like myself, came from a broken home. And her life was also tainted with many forms of abuse that some women seem destined to suffer. But shining through it all was our belief that there is a God, because we did after all, find one another.For Christmas, She managed to get me a beautiful watch, and, a Giants baseball cap. Seemed that all I could afford was a small bouquet of flowers for her. But she was sick, and I was spending my money on dope to help wean her away from the powerful addiction that was controlling her life. Still, us being together, having love for one another was the best present. So much more than I could've ever asked for. The next day, December 26, we had no food in the house and I was flat broke. She had a friend that lived a few towns over though, and we went there to borrow Thirty dollars.
Incredibly, we were going to use for Food.I did as she asked and waited a short distance up the road, waited for her to return from this friends place. But this is were things took a fateful turn. You see, I was parked on the shoulder of the road in a rural area. An area which was alleged to have suffered numerous housebreaks. Well, along came a Police cruiser whose driver took a deep interest as to why I was parked on the side of the road, hundreds of Feet from any house. The officer interrogated me for a few minutes, during which time I told him that I was there alone. But, before you know it, along came Ginny, around the bend in the road. she was calling out for me as she approached. The Officer became dissatisfied with my saying that I was there alone, and became more suspicious of the Two of us.
Before long, there was Three, maybe four Police cruisers there. It was a small town, so basically, the whole force was out there wondering what the hell me and Ginny were up to. Oh the part about her borrowing money from the friend checked out okay, But more interesting to them, they were wondering why Ginny gave them Two different birthdays when they asked her who she was. We were out the for over an hour. There were also some sort of pills scattered on the ground nearby that further frustrated the Officers. I forget what they were, but they were some pills that Ginny was taking to help fight of the cramps she was experiencing from drug withdrawals. She Scattered them in a panic I guess.
After an hour of being out in the frigid December night, they had me and Ginny follow them back to the Police station in our car to sort out exactly who we were. It turned out that I was just a guy from a few towns over, who's out to do no wrong, and Ginny, well she was a Parolee who was wanted for not reporting to her Parole Officer in Six or Seven Months.I once again found myself in an empty apartment. I was Devastated, but not beyond belief. Even still, Ginny and I had spent a mere Ten days together, but they were the happiest, most magical Ten days of my life.
So I felt so very empty and sad inside. Over the next few Months, I called her Parole officer, and her Attorney, not to mention a few other folks that had an interest in her. I drove forty miles to personally see her Probation Officer. There was no denying it, I was in love with Ginny. And I did everything I could do to get her back. She was, and still is, the only women I have ever loved.During the Ten days we were together, one of the persons I met was her only other sibling, her twin brother Dale. Ginny and I had gone to visit him during our Ten day romance, because he had the pills she needed to help fight the drug withdrawal, plus, he lent us Fifty dollars. I felt obligated to repay him for helping in our time of need.
·
Anyway, in my efforts to get her back, back from the past Which she was so desperately trying to escape, he was one of the half dozen or so persons that I came into contact with after her arrest. You see, From the time She was Twenty-Two years old till she was Twenty-Nine, Ginny had been in prison because somebody she shared drugs with had died from a lethal overdose. Think of all the people, the famous stars you've ever heard of that met an untimely death from drugs. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, John Belushi, Jim morrison, John Bonham.... Aside from the fact that they were famous, and aside from the fact that their first names all start with the letter J, they all share the distinction of having died from a drug overdose. Do you know of any Co-dependent of theirs that was sent to prison for being present when they died.
for lack of a better word, I don't want to get into the ugliness of it, but all I can say is Ginny suffered the consequences of being an ordinary person at a most unfortunate event. I have seen this poor girl cry her heart out morning the death that cost her her youth. The loss of her Mother. One of the things I miss most about her is being the One to be there for her, to comfort her, to heal her.
So, there I was, going into the new Millennium, I was alone and filled with anguish at the thought of having lost this precious, Heaven sent Angel of mine. I think it was around the Third day of January that I received my first letter from my Ginny.She too was feeling alone, saddened by our separation. Her days were filled with the pains of withdrawal as her legs cramped in unbearable spasms. And her nights were filled with tears and sleeplessness. She wanted her freedom back. She was overcome with grief at having been sent back to the prison she had spent the last Seven years of her young life. And she was even more so saddened at the thought of losing me.
It seems that it is all to common that when a women gets sent to prison, they truly are at special risk of loosing touch forever with all that they love and hold dear to themselves. Their children, their husbands or boyfriends, their family and community ties.But my fears, my heart ache, my sorrows, they all mirrored Ginny's. I didn't want to loose the precious Angel that I had become so dependant upon for a gentle hand to hold. As I had illustrated earlier, she needed me in her life. And like any true symbiotic relationship that nature has set upon this Earth, I needed her. So began my campaign to help her win her freedom.
In what little freedom Ginny had enjoyed in her early adulthood, she was like a feather in the wind. Never truly having control over where life was taking her. She had managed to get herself into some very serious trouble with the law while she was free. One of the more reckless things she had done was to have stolen a Police cruiser. She quickly found herself in a high speed pursuit. She had no trouble getting traffic on the busy morning roads to get out of her way as she wound through the city street with the siren blaring and the lights flashing in her freshly stolen cruiser. She gave a wry smile, thinking about the irony of that part. But the pursuit ended in a crash, Nobody was hurt, and she was arrested as she stood amongst a crowd of gathering onlookers.She was trying to blend in, and escape apprehension, but the fresh scratches on her face betrayed her. It was that incident along with her other troubles from the past that were threatening to come back and haunt her. With the pills found scattered on the ground, and her noncompliant attitude toward her Parole, Ginny stood to be once again locked away for a considerable length of time.But not if I could help it.
I spent countless time seeking out the folks that were going to be passing judgment on her. Her Parole Officer, her Probation Officer, her Attorney.... I did anything I could think of to convince these people that Ginny was no longer the helpless feather cast into the wind. I wanted to show them that she was loved, and dearly needed at home. I wanted them to know that she was not going to be lost onto the streets like some abandoned urchin, at risk of causing further harm to herself or other folks of the community.And I spent my free time writing to Ginny, telling her how much she meant to me. She was locked up in a prison that was Forty-Five miles away. My car wasn't in the best of shape, and the winter weather wasn't all that cozy, but I still managed to drive out to see her every Week or so for the next few Months.
·
Then came the day that Ginny was set for a trial on drug possession charges. For the pills that she had scattered on the ground that fateful night. Hard to accept as it was, the State had actually subpoenaed me to testify against her. God seemed to be with us that day though. Somehow, Ginny's Attorney had manage to convince the District Attorney to allow her to Plea out on a reduced charge. The judge sentenced her to Sixty days, and deemed the sentence served on the time she spent locked up awaiting trial. She would have been free to go at that point, but she still had to come to terms with her Parole violation.
So back she went to lockup, waiting impatiently for some word from the Parole board as to whether or not they would revoke her freedom. A week had passed since her court appearance, and the day for her to appear before the Parole board had arrived. By some coincidence, it was Ginny's Thirtieth birthday. Today, she would receive a very nice present indeed. Somehow, maybe through the grace of God, maybe through my show of will and determination, my unending dedication to Ginny, the Parole board had determined that what trouble she had gotten into while A.W.O.L. was not serious enough to revoke her Parole. Ginny had won her freedom.
It was about then that the Devil took interest in our lives. With her new found freedom, it wasn't into my arms that Ginny had sought to be embraced, but rather into the company of another inmate that had became her lover while they where in prison together. Another inmate, another drug addict. Ginny was only out for a matter of days when she found herself once again in they cold, hard, vice like grip of Heroin addiction. I didn't know where she was or what she was doing, but after maybe Ten days or so, she finally called me from the North Station in Boston. She told me was ready to come home.I was so happy, My gift from Heaven was returning to me.
I immediately got in my car and drove out to pick her up. It was then that I met Carol, her friend and lover from prison. Her Co-dependant of drug addiction. But I was happy to have my Ginny back in my life, I threw my arms around her and kissed her. In my jubilance, I even gave Carol a warm embrace. It wasn't long before I began to truly hate and despise Carol.I found myself once again in the tough , no, impossible ordeal of battling another persons drug addiction. And Carol was my worst enemy. Carol had two children of her own, she had a life of her own. But for some reason, she choose to turn her back to that. She choose to tear my life and happiness apart by coming between Ginny and me. Destroying all my efforts to give Ginny a life worth living.
Over the next Ten weeks, I found myself being torn between hatred and love for Ginny as I watched her life spiral out of control. There where good times we had together after she had her new found freedom. Times that I still fondly recall.. They were mostly simple things, like walking along the river, sharing an ice cream. sitting back with her on the sofa and enjoying a movie together Or when we went shopping together for Summer clothing and footwear. We even went out for dinner once. Ginny wasn't much for cooking, but that was okay, I use to love impressing her with my own culinary skills. One of the things I use to enjoy most was Brushing her long beautiful hair. That and the simple pleasure of just holding her hand.
Ginny was very pretty. If I were asked to compare her to somebody famous, I guess I would compare her to Kathleen Turner. If you ever saw Miss Turner in the movie Romancing The Stone, you'd know from where I am drawing the comparison. There is another person that reminds me very much of Ginny, but she is a bit more removed from American fame. This person, I am sure, is well known in the country of Brazil. I only saw her while watching the 2000 Summer Olympics that were held in Sydney, Australia. Her name is Simone, and she was phenomenal on the Brazilian women soccer team. I was amazed by how much she reminded me of Ginny. I guess I will always be looking at faces in the crowd, hoping that someday, I'll see my Ginny again.
·
I was so happy to have her as a part of my life, a part of me, but there were also times when I was saddened. Like the time her friend Carol called to tell me Ginny was in trouble, that she needed my help. I went to were Carol told me I would find them, and I was taken aback by what I saw. There, in broad daylight, in the middle of downtown was my Ginny, laid out on the sidewalk, with her back against the wall of some building .Ginny had been under the care of a doctor at the time. He had giving her some prescription which she combined with her drug choice, Heroin.Whatever she was prescribed, taken along with the heroin, had cause her a greater danger than I truly realized.
I Placed her into my car and prepared to take her home. But she was so far gone, I couldn't bare the thought of walking her intoxicated self into the apartment, again.I drove to a secluded place along the river bank, figuring I would just calmly wait it out until she came down from whatever high it was that she was on. But things were getting worse by the minute. Ginny was unconscious, and she began to have trouble breathing. Every minute that passed, I found myself shaken her, trying to rouse some level of consciousness into her, but it was hopeless.. By now, I could see that the drugs she had taken were having a powerful synergistic affect on her.. A couple of times, I was sure that she had stopped breathing entirely.
Twice I drove to the hospital, only to turn around because she began to audibly breath again. There was even a point during which her lips turn slightly blue, cyanosis, I thought. her body wasn't getting much oxygen. I swear I even had to breath life into her a couple of time. I was afraid to take her to the hospital because she already had an incident the week prior.She and carol were out at some friends house, and from there Ginny was rushed to the hospital. It was pretty much the same thing, her Central nervous system had shut down, and she had to be revived in the hospital. For some reason, Ginny fled from the hospital and arrived at my door wearing nothing but a hospital gown. So maybe you can appreciate my own reluctance at this point to bring her to an emergency room. The good news is, I won that battle for her life that day. It took a few hours, and every ounce of love I could muster up, but I managed to get my Ginny awake and well enough to walk in to the house without drawing attention from the neighbors.
To this day, I don't think she knows how I saved her from dying. Truth be said, I don't think I know just how many times I had saved her life. In ways either tangible or not. That was One of the many low points in the time I had been with Ginny, But she was, after all, the only women I had ever loved. There was another real low point, like on June 30th of the year 2000.
The week before that was great. Ginny and I were very much in love, and we shared some very intimate moments together. I had bought a couple of gold rings for her then, I couldn't afford a real engagement ring, and I wasn't quite ready to actually propose to her, but I told her how much I loved her. And I did tell her that One day, I would ask her to marry me.God, the smile I won from her then was worth more than a thousand sunny days. I would give anything to see that smile again.On, or about the 28th of June, Ginny had convinced me to drive into Boston to pick up Carol. She knew how I felt about Carol, and how the last thing I wanted was to see them Two together. There were purely bad news when they were together, and I wasn't comfortable at the thought of them being around One another. It wasn't a jealousy thing about her being with another woman. As I said, I loved ginny, and I was accepting of her interest in other women. It wasn't like she could get pregnant.
But I relented. Carol Needed to be in town to see a doctor the next day, and Ginny assured me that Carol would be gone as soon as she was done with her appointment Well, the appointment came and went, but much to my dismay, Carol stuck around for another day. Then, on June 30th, for the first time, I lost my cool with Ginny.I found myself yelling at her. I was saying that Carol had to get the hell out of there. that I hated Carol. I was truly afraid of losing Ginny again.. And I think it was about then that I did lose her.
·
I watched helplessly as her and Carol left together. They disappeared onto the streets and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. I was devastated, and this time, beyond belief. I would spend hours driving around, desperately trying to spot them. There were a couple of times that I found them, I was a wreck. Tears were bursting from my eyes as I would plead with Ginny to please come home. But she wouldn't. I was very frustrated. On two occasions, I found myself packing all of Ginny belongings and dropping them off at whatever place she was staying. I did it out of spite, and out of frustration. But both times, I found myself reclaiming the belongings, still in hope of providing Ginny with the love and home that I knew she needed, that I needed.
Somehow though, someway, it all just fell apart. That July, She seemed to be forever gone from my life. My days were filled with sorrow and anger, with an incomparable emptiness that just sucked all happiness away from me. I was devastated beyond belief. I can remember walking around at work fighting back the tears that would come from out of nowhere. My biggest regret through all this ordeal was that, while Ginny and I were together, not once did I ask God for help. Not once did I step beyond my own ego to think, "maybe I could use some help."
It wasn't until December 13th that I would hear from Ginny again. She called me from Somerville, where she had been staying with Carol. She asked if I could come out to see her, both to lend her a few dollars and, simply to see her. I drove out to see her. Was I in for a surprise. It seemed that Ginny was carrying something of a reminder of better days. She was well along into pregnancy, If I did my math right, I expected she would deliver on or about March 17th, St Patrick day. She told me that according to the doctors, she was in fact due for the 19th, close enough. It seemed there was no doubt that I would soon be a father. But, because of they way Ginny's feeling for me had changed, I would never get to be a Daddy.
She was friendly and cordial enough. We spent a few pleasant hours together that night, But she told me that she didn't love me anymore. I guess that by this time I was beyond devastation. I took all the news in stride, and I was just happy to be spending some quality time with my Ginny. She did say that she wanted me to have some part in the Childs life, that she didn't want him to be raised without some paternal figure in his life. Yes, ultrasound revealed his gender. As I said, we spent a few pleasant hours together, but like teen sweethearts forbidding to be together by concerned parents, We had to end our secret rendezvous so Ginny could return to the comfort of Carols home. We kissed a couple of times, and she assured me that she would stay in touch. Again I kissed her goodnight, and reminded her to think about me on the 16th of December. Our "Anniversary" was just three short days away. That was the last time I ever saw my darling.
By the time March had came around, I had been living at my brothers house for the past three months. I think it was on about the 14th of March that Ginny had called. But fate seemed to be cruelly working against me. My Nephew had answered the phone. My Nephew who had always known me as Uncle Bob, couldn't comprehend who Ginny was asking for when she asked if she could speak to Robert. He told her that nobody named Robert lived there, and that, I guess, was the end of it.
Oh, believe me, I still tried to find some way to reconnect with her. I called Carols mom Diane sometime in April of 2001. She told me about how Ginny was doing, and she told me about how Kyle, our Son was doing. He wasn't doing to good. It seems he was born with some problem, but that he was in a children's hospital. Waiting for some operation that would make him better. Ginny, in the meantime, was on some sort of probation, merely being granted the right to visit Kyle. I guess that Ginny managed to still be in some sort of trouble, and that the Department of Social Services was involved in the care of the child. I contacted some obscure state agency seeking help in reestablishing some sort of bond with Ginny and our son, but they directed me to some other agency. I really didn't put too much enthusiasm into it.
·
So, here it is, over a year since I last saw Ginny. Over the last month, I have been thinking about her a lot. And it has brought, still, many a tear to my eyes. But then I think about all those poor families forever ripped apart by the tragedies which occurred on 9/11. I tell myself that it is selfish of me to feel sorry about what happened between Ginny and me. That she choose to end our relationship. And I thought of how, out there, there are countless Husbands and Wives, now Widows and Widowers. Sons and daughter, now orphaned, or reduced to a single parent home because of the evil inflicted on 9/11.
And I thought of all the other countless loved ones, who must be racked with grief, who wake up on the nights that they do manage to get some sleep. As they reach for the empty pillow that is now as vacated and empty as their hearts must be. Ginny choose to leave, these poor folks suffered an eternal loss from which there was no choice to be made. So I told myself to stop having these "selfish feeling", to stop feeling sorry for myself.
In closing, I would just like to ask all of you out there who are reading this, to please offer up a prayer of healing for the surviving victims of 9/11, and then, to offer up a prayer for Ginny and myself. You see, I am still in love with her, and by God I would give anything to end the pain of not being with her. Of not being a Dad to the child of which I am the father. I myself, grew up without a Father, and that is why I waited a "lifetime" before "settling down", before falling in love. One thing I never wanted to do was to bring a child into this world that I could not be a Dad to.So please, send a prayer, that somehow, someway, God once again see's fit to reunite me with my Ginny. I know she's out there.
And with that, I complete my New Years resolution, to use my God giving gift of writing, in the hopes that somehow, someway, I will have my Ginny back. I do love you my darling, still. Sincerely, the guy from a few towns over, who's out to no wrong.
·
authors disclaimer: Everything I have written in the story you've just read is entirely true , and all timelines are accurate, However, in an attempt to limit any emotional impact it may have upon the persons portrayed, I have used pseudonyms for the all persons named with the exception of myself, And the character comparisons I have made between "Ginny" and the actual person(s) Kathleen Turner, Simone
Concur completely with Eileen; a beautiful, inspiring story that I can identify with. Both my Daddy and brother stayed with their wives, through health and sickness; my brother's wife had never had a pain free day (sick with systemic JRA). She passed two years ago at 52 years of age; Mom developed diabetes and passed away 16 years ago at the age of 59. Both my Daddy and brother could have walked away and left them to fend for themselves, but they truly loved the other and honored the marriage vow. I respect them highly for that.
My goodness Robert! What a story! I feel sad for your loving someone with such problems. To have a son you can't see. All you went through with her. You must be a very special man to still be so devoted. It isn't wise to help someone stay on drugs. I pray you meet someone who will be as good for you as you will be for her. Excellent writing!...Eileen
When Sophie Bayles inadvertently ruins a young man’s chance for employment, she sets out to find him a new position. Even though he doesn’t want her to.
The Matchmaker:
Angela Calminetti, mother of five, New Age practitioner and gifted psychic and telepath, is proud of her family ties and does everything she can to make sure that all of her younger siblings are as happy in love and marriage
Tuesday, January 01, 2002
