Saltwater, Overdose, and Drag Queens...

I cleaned my aquarium the other day. We were having a party and it looked a bit on the disgusting side. Ever since I worked for an aquarium maintenance company a couple years ago, I've had a hard time keeping my own little piece of indoor ocean clean. Rebellion? Laziness? Yes.

Whenever I clean my aquarium it causes me to think about odd things related to it. For a moment, I think about the inconsiderate and mindless ways in which I pulled together a few thousand dollars to get it. I worked my butt off, but I also stole, lied, and cheated my way into owning that aquarium. I look at it's beauty and I remember the person I was. And then I look at it for a few more seconds and I remember the Jesus who came to forgive me and restore me...thank you Lord Jesus. Thank you for leaving the ninety-nine to come and get me.

Looking at a beautiful saltwater aquarium also brings up some really offbeat memories. I can distinctly remember the first time I laid eyes on a marine aquarium. It was brilliant blue with bright orange Clownfish and gorgeous Anemones. There were Blue Hippo Tangs and amazing corals ebbing and flowing in the current. My face was glued to the glass as I watched the Volitan Lionfish prowl through the crystal clear water. I was hooked. At that very moment, even though I was only 9 or 10 years old, I vowed to myself that when I was older I would own one of these marvels. This amazing and majestic mini-ocean was sitting in a man named Phil's basement.

Phil was bi-sexual. I say that because I am certain that he was "with" my mother and I am also certain he was "with" other men. I'd rather not go into the details. Phil was one of the random scumbags whom my mom would drag my sister and I to stay with. To this day I still have no idea how she met these people. She would go over there to get drunk or high while my sister and I would try to keep ourselves entertained. Phil was one weird dude. I remember he always gave me the creeps and I never wanted to go over there. My dad would go to work and during the summer mom just took us wherever she went. We would tell her we didn't want to go over there and she would convince us that it would only be for a little while and she would buy us something or take us somewhere we wanted to go. Many times a couple of hours would turn into a couple of days and World War III would take place when dad finally found us. It was a mess.

As strange as this Phil character was, he didn't hold a candle to Dave. Dave lived directly across the street from Phil. Dave had a repugnant house that made me want to vomit every time I was in it. It smelled of urine, tobacco, alcohol, marijuana, and death. There was garbage everywhere. He had two gigantic Great Danes and a sofa/love seat combo that were covered in thick plastic. You wouldn't want the furniture to get all messed up in a fancy place like that now would you?

Dave's pinnacle of weirdness was achieved in the form that he wasn't Dave anymore. Dave had become Rebekkah. Dave saved up his money and had a sex change operation and was now a nasty ugly man with woman parts. Dave's candy...excuse me, Rebekkah's candy was Cocaine. He/She had little brown vials of cocaine all over the place and my sweet mum liked the same kind of nose candy as DavBekkah. I'm not entirely sure, but all signs point to DavBekkah being a cocaine dealer. Both Phil and Dave had children...oh how I'm praying for them right this second.

I believe the most insane memory I have of Phil and DavBekkah would have to be the night my mom had some sort of overdose at DavBekkah's house. As I try to remember to the best of my ability I see myself as being 11 years old. There was some sort of freak party going on and I was supposed to be with my dad. Mom said she was taking me over to his apartment, but we were going to stop at Rebekkah's house first. Mom and dad were divorced by this time and they hated each other a good bit. Dad got custody of me and mom got custody of my sister Amie. I was sentenced to spend every other weekend with my mom. Although I tried to make the most of it each time, there was anguish and a sense of impending doom rising up in me each time dad dropped me off.

Minutes stretched to hours at DavBekkah's house and I continually tugged on my mom telling her we had to go. The next time I came in the room to request our departure my mom was laying on the floor with white vomit pooled under her face. She was passed out and did not look okay. She would shake every now and again and I was freaking out. I remember they wouldn't let me use the phone and I was cussing at them.

All I wanted was my dad, he could make this better I thought to myself. Or at least be a sane person to talk to. I didn't know what was wrong with my mom. I'd seen her passed out many, many times, but this was different. I found my mom's keys in her jacket pocket and I dragged her outside and shoved her into the car. This was a lot of work for a boy my size. I took a deep breath and I started the car. I knew how to get to me and my dad's apartment from was only 5 or 10 minutes away. I weighed the benefits and the consequences out in my mind. I thought about what would happen if I got pulled over by a police officer and I remember I was so mad at my mother I knew I could place all the blame on her. So we drove.

I couldn't see over the steering wheel, but I could see through it. I drove straight to my dad's house and by this time it was 11 or 12 at night. There was hardly any traffic out...I remember this because ever car I saw was an anxiety attack in my mind. I drove 2 exits down the interstate and within a couple more minutes I was pulling into my familiar little apartment complex. Oh how happy I was to see that complex. We pulled up and I noticed that my dad wasn't home. He and my sister were probably out at my uncle's or something...I can't remember. I do remember that I started to drag my mom into the apartment and I decided against that. I left her in the car to sit in her vomit and I went inside. I sat there and cried for a while waiting on my dad to get home and I fell asleep on the couch.

I don't know why I didn't call 911 or drop my mom off at the hospital. I guess I didn't really know how bad that could have been. She could have died that night. The next morning and abstract time period after that incident have all become very blurry to me. I can't quite focus in on what transpired of all that nonsense later on...there had to be consequences for some of it.

I have no resolve or moral of the story for the end of this post. I can tell you that I am alive, my family is alive, some of them more alive than others, and I'm filled with joy because Christ lives in me. Jesus is the opposite of those things I remember and that gives me even more hope for the future. I heard a few years back that Phil died of AIDS. I am unsure about DavBekkah as that was the last time I ever saw him/her. Pray for these people...God is big enough to restore.

Jeremiah 29:11 says, "For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you not to harm you. Plans for hope and a future."

Amen to that.

7 waggish utterances thus far...:

Ryan Allen Doan said...

I am imagining and praying for restoration right now. It can happen.

DanThoms said...

My goodness, that may be the wildest childhood memory that I have ever heard. God does restore. I've known people of the same caliber who came to the knowledge of Christ.

Steve said...

This left me with tears in my eyes. I am thankful for our God who not only restores, but forgives and loves us in spite of ourselves.

Helen Ann said...

I know that God can work miracles!! I know He can restore all of them. We can never stop praying...

I'm proud of that little kid who did the best he knew how to do in that situation. And I am deeply sad and also angry that he was put in that position to begin with...Argh!

Nick Detzel said...

I'll always beg your forgivness

Amanda said...

Wouls you say that everything you have been through contributed to you knowing HIm today?

God bless-

K.X.F.X. said...

Just noting that if DaveBekkah had his parts surgically chopped off, that'd be a transsexual, not a drag queen or a transvestite.