This Makes Me Sad

Re-posted, from my Tumblr:

My uncle who lives out in Los Angeles sent me this email at 1:45am. I’m pretty sure he’s drunk. He’s been running around doing different jobs for most of his adult life and has pretty much been a drifter ever since he came back from Vietnam. He and my dad used to be so similar—he was so smart, went to Brown, on the right path, then he got drafted and when he came back, was never the same. Moved out to California and never quite found his way back. For a while, he was dating this woman named Joyce who was really wealthy and so he was pretty much living off her for a while, but he broke up with her in the fall. They bought a house in Palm Beach together and I guess they’re fighting over it now. Everyone in my family is kind of glad they broke up, because she was…pretty high maintenence. She was originally from New York, and twice a year would take trips back here. But not just a trip. She would bring an entourage of twenty friends, every night would be a huge black tie affair. One time she reserved the crystal room at Tavern On The Green…yeah. A little too nouveau-riche for my family. But she LOVED me for some reason. Maybe because I was the first one of the family she met, maybe just because I live in New York. Who knows? But I couldn’t not like her when she was always so excited to see me.

I love, love, love my uncle to death. He was always my favorite uncle as a kid because he was so funny and told great stories. I thought he was so cool because he lived in California and at one point was working in television (short lived, as they all were). But now, knowing that times are tough for him, I worry. I know my dad does too, but what can he do? He would never accept money. He’s always managed to land on his feet before, but for some reason I’m more anxious this time. Maybe it’s just because I’m getting older. I think part of the reason I feel the need to move to LA is because I could be close to him and keep an eye on him. Help him, if I have to.

I know it’s not my responsibility. But last year my mom told me that she sees so much of Charles in my brother, and as soon as she said it, I couldn’t believe I never noticed it before. They’re so alike. The broseph is already such a drifter. He’s older than me and I’ve been cleaning up his messes since I was fourteen. I fear, but I know, I may still be doing that when we’re older. I’ll be like my dad, he’ll be like Charles, if we even still manage to speak to each other when we’re older. I think maybe I feel the need to take care of my uncle because its the same way I’ve had to “take care” of my older brother.

Anyway, Broseph’s story is one for another time. Come to think of it, so is my uncle’s, because it’s long and complicated. But the email wouldn’t make any sense without some info. We’ve always been so close, and had such a bond, even though I only see him a few times a year. I’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to not be aware of all the hope and expectations everyone in my family has on me, especially since the Broseph has…had some trouble finding his way, to put it lightly. There’s a lot of pressure to succeed, in addition to all the pressure I put on myself. But Charles has never had any expectations, because he always knew I would do well. I never felt any pressure from him, I just always knew he believed in me. I think he wants me to have the success he never had. And he, more than anyone else, is the one I could never let down.

I forgot he spoke French, he used to speak it to me when I was little. I should send an email back in French, he’d be thrilled.

Casey,

Voulez vous Be mon Valentine?

Qui est vous ankle…?

C’est manifique to think pour vous; quel your frustration level? As a doer & a goer, these weeks of rehab must be grande frrustro to the max, no pun intended. I have ‘slipped on ice’ many times in my career; I know the cost of foolishness. Welcome to the club; however, as you must have deduced by now, these times also allow you to step outside your calculated footprints, and engage a different lens-craft in your rueness. These new revelations may or may not have lasting power, but you can never argue with thyself they didn’t exist.

I’m sure you’re anxious to return to the tomorrow of your life & it will return as full as you imagined. Remember this parathenicies as a gift – in our self induced helter-skelter we don’t get many. I have total faith in your decisions & in your ability to see; be bold and boundless in your curiosity.

Me, I’m in a decent spot; life is a gift, $$ are becoming sparse – but attitude is forward & positive. Still vying with the Dutchess over the house – remain thinking 90-10 against any recovery, hoping guilt still has a chance. Just rec’d a V-day card quoting “Do you think we can make a fresh start… (con’t) I want us to hold on to our memories… She remains in total denial & has long become accustomed to disbelieve reality. To accord age with wisdom is a dangerous leap; people who don’t get real life early, never get it. To see is the power, not to have or hold; your vision is your greatest strength, it will always be your strongest ally - your feel is right, let it flow & grow.

Bon soir, mon amie.

Love you,

Ses Charles

Wow. The more I read it, the more I see the double meanings and second-level dialogue in so many things he says. This breaks my heart.

[Ding, ding, ding...the "this blog is getting too serious" alarm is going off...insert joke here.]