Rant #3,200: A Man Without a Dream

Normally, reaching a milestone like we did today at Rant #3,200 would be a topic of conversation for the blog, but circumstances have made that point almost moot.

And I know today is a solemn date in our nation’s history, but right now, I cannot personally concentrate on that.

This past weekend, I tried to get back to some normalcy in my life and in my family’s lives, but let me tell you, it wasn’t an easy thing to do.

Coincidently, a day after burying my mother, my son’s sports activities revved up again for the fall.

On Friday, his basketball season began and on Saturday, his bowling season commenced.

These were good things for both my son and I, almost forcing us to shift our focus from my mother’s passing and the rigors of the funeral to something else.

Personally, I often used these activities as my “step away from what was happening,” if you will, respites from my mother’s deteriorating health and all the other problems that I have.

And on Friday, after receiving condolences from numerous people at the basketball activity, I was able to “step away” just like I had previously done, and I assume that my son was able to do the same thing.

Even though lasting just an hour or so, it was fun, and served as a tonic for us to help us get back to some type of normalcy.

Saturday was another step in that long road, as bowling began for my son, with my son and his team as defending league champions.

There is a bit more pressure in the bowling league than there is in the basketball league, as it is ultra-competitive, and with my son’s team as champion, there is a target on their backs.

But again, that leads to the fun of it all, and in week one, my son’s team won the two games that they played, and my son bowled OK after a three-month layoff.

And it really took me away from everything.

Every “high-five” that I made with the bowlers was like a bit of angst was being let out of me … and there were plenty of “high-fives” to go around.

It was lots of fun, I have to say, and I think that my son also used it as a platform to get back to normal.

And then we had the “piece de resistance” to normalcy—

My son and I went to a wrestling show at the local Nassau Coliseum on Saturday night.

It was nothing more than a house show, but the old, venerable “Barn” demonstrated that it can still hold its own with such an event, even if the place is most probably on its last legs with the possible coming of gambling and a casino to what is known as the “Nassau Hub” area.

We had purchased the tickets months ago, obviously not knowing then that the event would be just two days after my mom’s funeral, but again, it served as a tonic for what ailed us, and we had a great time.

In the Jewish religion, the period of mourning after a funeral is called “Shiva,” which is supposed to last up to eight days and where being somber is the law of this ritual.

Those mourning sit on boxes, all mirrors are covered, and food is plentiful for those who come to commiserate with you.

My sister and I decided that we would have none of that; we would have one day of mourning right after the funeral, and one day only.

We agreed that it becomes almost like a party atmosphere if you do it longer, and we simply wanted to end it after one day.

Whoever was there was there; we won’t hold it over the heads of those who were not there. You do what you need to do, and that is that.

So while I will always mourn the loss of my mother—and my parents—we decided to keep the mourning period as short as possible, because we didn’t feel that it was necessary to elongate it.

Look, even with these fun events in tow, my family cannot reach normalcy right now, and won’t be able to reach it for the foreseeable future.

With my mother gone, our time in this house is very limited, so our living status is completely up in the air.

The house will be listed, either for sale with us as tenants or for sale without us as tenants, and if the latter occurs—the most likely scenario—we are going to have to look for a new place to call home.

We have little money, little income to cover current rental levels, and quite frankly, the entire thing is a mess, a mess of messes that I had the foresight to see so many years ago when my parents entered into this deal with the devil against my wishes.

But right now, that is all water under the bridge.

Over the weekend, as I tried to get back to normal, I took all the photos off the wall of my mother’s portion of the house, and let me tell you, it was a very difficult thing to do.

These family-related photos had been on the wall for decades, and to take them down really hit me hard, right in my heart.

I also moved my father’s part of the bedroom set out to the curb, with my mother’s soon to follow.

This portion of the house needs further cleaning, and we will make it perfect for viewing to whoever might be interested in buying the place.

It is just so sad, but I guess life moves on.

Anyone interested in buying a beautiful house in world-famous Massapequa Park and having us as a LEGAL tenant?

If you know of anybody who might be interested, please let me know==

Because my world cannot possibly reach any level of real normalcy until I find out where my family and I stand, literally, with our housing needs.

I feel like a man without a dream now, and I don’t like that feeling one bit.