Anyway, today I got a knock on my door. I looked out my window and I saw the tale tale sign of a young LDS missionary. In my mind, I had to think how I would respond to them. First, as a general rule, I do not like people coming to my house without telling me they are coming. Second, I do not like people coming to my house to try and talk to me about their religion. I find it to be a violation of my privacy. (If I wanted to find out more about your religion, I would come to YOU.. not the other way around.) Third, well... I just don't like it. I have been known to be very negative about such happenings. I have joked about answering the door naked or some such nonsense. But today,I had a weird feeling about the situation.
I walked to my door taking deep breaths and feeling very confused. Why, after 12 years, are they knocking on MY door? Is it because I moved to Meridian where the city is predominantly LDS? Is it because I'm new the neighborhood? When we first moved in, our neighbors gave us the "Mormon test" as they greeted us. As far as I can tell, I only have 1 immediate Mormon neighbor. We have met 4 of our immediate neighbors and only 1 of them is LDS. So I open the door to two very nice young men, proudly wearing their Missionary badges. They were very kind and a very timid. They kept looking over their shoulder toward the house that the LDS family lives in. Weird. I have never had that kind of behavior before. They were actually very awkward, which has also never happened. I kind of felt sorry for them. "Do you know or have any Mormon friends?" Seriously? You are in Meridian and you are asking me that question. And they kept looking over to that house. I laughed with them and said, "I live in Meridian, Idaho. Of course, I have LDS friends."
"We just wanted to know if we can offer you any services." Well that is a new one for me. I know that they Mormon missionaries will come in and provide services for you. I had a friend who befriended a couple of them and had them over to help with yard work! The LDS church down the street from my mom's Florida house would come and take care of her yard after a hurricane (and my mom thought all LDS were going to hell.. and they still helped her.) I know this is what they do. But i have NEVER been asked this by missionaries. I told them I was great and didn't need anything and I thanked them for the offer. Then they said, "Well we aren't here to talk about religion. We just wanted to check and see if there is anything you needed us to do or to talk to us about." This is where I felt weird. They kept looking back at my neighbors house. Were my neighbors watching from their living room window? These two young men, were awkward asking this question. Like they knew I had something deep to talk about and they just werent' sure how to say it... "We heard your son died, can we help you in any way?" I thanked them again, and told them I was fine. "Well is it okay if we leave you a card? On the back it has a website that is pretty legit." (yes he used the word legit.) I gladly took the card.
I can't help but think that someone told the missionaries my son died and I might need comforting. I came very close to inviting these young men in. I just wanted to talk to them. I wanted to ask them where they came from. Where is "home". What are their plans for their lives? Why did they decide to do their time as missionaries? How can *I* help *them*? I realize these young men are not the enemy. No one is the enemy. No need to answer the door naked (though, they had better be glad I wasn't practicing my burlesque routine this morning!)
I think I see my son in every random 20 something year old boy that walks up to my door. Nick would have had a field day with them.
I am feeling rather melancholy today. That punch in the gut as I went to sleep has not really been shaken off. I can't remember what it was that came to my mind last night, which frustrates me. There is something that I have not shared with ANYONE since Nick died. I am struggling HARD to find memories of Nick. With my brain injury a couple of years ago, I have lost ALOT of memories! And I mean TONS of them! It hasn't been just a short term memory loss, but LONG TERM as well. I have very few memories of Nick. This is why I value and LOVE every time I come across someone who shares stories with me. This is why I loved realizing that Kendal from Burlesque was a friend of Nick's in junior high. She didn't share memories of him with me, but it did remind me of him hanging out with certain people and a memory I had kind of forgotten. And I think the "gut punch" I took last night was a memory I had forgotten, remembered, and now have forgotten again. I really hate when that happens. I wish I had all of those memories! Losing Nick physically sucks so bad. Realizing I have lost those memories sucks even more than anyone can possibly understand!
But in an effort to keep his memory alive, I would love to share a story with you all.
Nick was in 9th grade, I believe. He had this black hoodie with skulls and crossbones all over it. He ONLY wore black. I don't know that he was ever truly "goth" but he only wore black and hated labels on clothing. Anyway, he had this attitude about school and about life. He was kinda of a dark horse in school. His grades weren't fantastic. He was getting in trouble at school for bizarre things. He was always pushing limits and living life on his own terms. Let's face it, he could be a little shit!
So he had this black hoodie. He decided to give the skulls "facial piercings" by putting safety pins through the noses of all the skulls. He wore his hoodie like this for a couple of days. No big deal. It seemed like kids were all about safety pins at that time. It's not the first time in this life time that someone has used safety pins as a decoration to express themselves. When I was a kid we made friendship pins out of them and put them on our shoe laces! Anyway, Vice Principal Ellinghouse (who is now VP at Timberline High School, was a complete.... well.. let's just say there is no love loss between us. He took great exception to Nick's safety pins. At the beginning of school, he told Nick to take them out. Nick didn't.
(This is the hoodie..its the best picture I could find)
At break, he saw Nick again. He told Nick to take them out. I'm sure Nick gave him some back talk because it was a stupid request. Mr. Ellinghouse told him that it was a violation of dress code or some such nonsense. Nick still refused to take them out because Mr. Ellinghouse could not give him a reasonable response to "why?". Granted, I would have liked my son to just use his manners and do what he was asked, but that is not the way Nick worked. He needed people to be logical and reasonable and he wanted to know WHY such a demand was being made of him. So Mr. Ellinghouse saw him again and became very angry. He confiscated Nick's safety pins and gave him detention or suspension or something stupid like that and he called me to come into the office. He told me that Nick was violating dress code. I looked at the dress code and no where in there did it say safety pins were a violation. He told Nick they were a safety hazard because *some* kids were using safety pins to pierce themselves during school. Okay. But Nick wasn't. Why is this Nick's issue? He wasn't a safety pin pusher. So what's the problem? OMG. Mr. Ellinghouse was a piece of work, and he hated Nick. Why? Because Nick was different. He pushed buttons. He demanded logical thinking and reasoning and refused to be a mindless drone.
He has always lived his life that way.. he died living his life that way. I could not be any prouder. I'm grateful for what memories I have left of Nick. I may not have as many as I would like. Gosh I wish I had so many more. I wish his life was long enough for me to create new ones with him. I miss his smile. I miss his laughter. I miss his arguing.
I am trying very hard to conjure up memories... and write them down so I can remember them forever. Damn brain injury! How dare you steal my son from me!
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