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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/1103670
Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #1921220

My thoughts released; a mind set free

#1103670 added December 14, 2025 at 10:01pm
Restrictions: None
What a Year
It's been an interesting day, and a sad one. One of my neighbors, and my friend, moved this summer. He could be a bit rough around the edges and not the easiest person to get along with sometimes, but I found it to be a good test of patience and a chance to reflect on a lot of what I've learned in my Bible studies. In the end, it was sad to see him move, and at the same time, a bit of a relief. We still keep in touch, and once I'm feeling better, I want to make the four-hour drive to visit him.

On the other side of the building lived another man I thought of as a friend. He was homeless for a spell, living out of his van, but our landlord found him sleeping in his van in the driveway to an open apartment and gave him a good deal on the place. I met Brian shortly after we moved in, and despite his filth (he seldom bathed or changed clothes and lived much like he did when he was homeless) I found him to be a very nice guy.

He also tended to be a hoarder and was terrible at throwing anything, even trash, away. But he would come over once in a while when we sat outside, and he would visit. I don't think he had any family around, and he didn't really have any friends, although he did attend a local church, and there were a few people there who would help him out on occasion.

Brian enjoyed writing, although he didn't trust or use the internet. He wrote in MS Word and saved most of his writing to flash drives. One day a few years back, the summer before last, his computer crashed. It was an old desktop model with an old-fashioned monitor.

He came over and asked me if I could help him get it up and running again. Despite the mess in his apartment, I did my best to help. There was a path to get through, nothing more. He had room for one person to sit on the couch, and at the table, the rest of the place was piles of stuff; stacks of old papers, bags filled with who knows what, and garbage. He was a heavy smoker, and the inside of his apartment was a smelly brown coating of nicotine and tar from his cigarettes; even the windows were so coated you could not see through them. The smell was offensive, and I found it difficult to breathe, but I stayed and did my best trying to get his antiquated system up and running again.

It was no use, and in the end, I had to tell him he needed a new computer; his was shot. I thought he was going to break down and cry! He lived off social security and barely received enough to make his payments. The church helped out with donated clothes, and one of the other church members bought him four cartons of cigarettes a month. He used an old phone he had through Straight Talk, another gift from the church, along with his monthly phone card.

I had a Dell desktop computer I used seldomly after I got my laptop, so I gave it to him. I had to use my phone's hotspot to connect to the internet and get it all set up and registered for him. It took a good half a day, and it was rough staying in his apartment for that long, but he was a nice guy, and I felt for him. After we finally got it set up and working, he tried it out, and again, I thought he was going to break down and cry; this time, tears of happiness welled up in his eyes. He offered me some canned food, mostly soups and Hormel dinners. He offered me a carton of cigarettes when I turned down the food. I politely declined, telling him that just seeing him that happy was all the payment I needed.

Shortly after, he again asked for some help. This time he was trying to get his old printer to work with the newer computer. But it wasn't compatible. It was an old-time dot-matrix printer that was likely geared towards Windows 3! We had discussed getting a new printer ourselves; ours was old and did not print pictures very well. So I talked to Rhonda, my wife, and she agreed, we would by a new printer and give him the old one.

It printed text fine, but photos had streaks; he wanted to print out some of his writing and just needed a printer that would work with the Dell and print in black and white. I helped him get it set up and even purchased a few packs of cartridges, both colored and black, because I knew he didn't have any money to buy ink. When we finished, and he printed out a page, in color, I thought he was going to start dancing; he was so excited and could not understand why I was being so kind to him. I explained that in our Bible studies, we were told to reflect on others the grace our Lord gives to us.

He doesn't get out much in the winter, and with the cold, it didn't seem odd that his old van hadn't moved in a while. After a couple of weeks had gone by, I started to worry. I told the landlord that I hadn't seen him out and about since the first week of the month and was concerned. Our landlord was also concerned, Brian had not paid his rent, and was always good at paying when he got his social security check. When he tried to call, he found Brian's phone was also not working. So, the landlord went over and found a lot of mail in his rural box; the door wasn't locked, and the light was on inside, as well.

But he did not find Brian. We talked after he came out and decided maybe someone from the church had taken him to the hospital or something, so the landlord contacted the church. No one had seen or heard from Brian in a couple of weeks. The pastor informed the sheriff's office yesterday, and today they showed up at his apartment. They were inside for a short time, then back out to their cars.

I went out and inquired, but was instructed to return home, so I did. A short time later, a van pulled up, and another guy went inside, then came back out and talked to the deputies. All three went back in and shortly after came back out with a body bag; it was easy to see there was a body inside.

I contacted my neighbor, who had moved; I knew he and Brian had been friends; I thought he would want to know. I also contacted our landlord and told him that they had found Brian inside his apartment. I did inquire with the deputy, and he was nice about it, but couldn't give out much information until they contacted any next of kin. He asked me questions, and I answered the best I could. I also gave them the landlord's name and phone number; hopefully, they can give more information.

They told me that Brian had not been dead for long, and there was no smell; the reason no one saw him was that when he collapsed, he fell into a pile of bags, which had fallen on top of him. They offered no more information. I doubt I'll ever know if he lay there for long and suffered, or if he died quickly.

Feeling down over all this, I decided to call my oldest and find out how things went for him. He had surgery on his kidney a week ago to remove a small lump that was filled with fluid. On my ex-wife's side of the family, I guess there is a history of this, but it's just fluid and not cancerous. This is what the doctors also thought at first, but after removing it and having it biopsied, it turns out my boy also has cancer.

Luckily, his was found early and contained. It sounds like his treatments will be easier than what I had to endure, and his cancer is highly treatable. He will find out more on his next doctor's visit and let me know more. I'm hoping that in another week or so, I'll be up to traveling. I really do need to see my children and my grandchildren. He has two, my youngest has four, and two of my step-children have kids, one has four, the other two. I haven't seen much of them since my diagnosis and treatments started because they didn't want to expose me to any sickness, and kids are great at spreading sickness. Now that my chemo is done and my immune system is recovering, I long to see all of them again.


Today, and this whole damn year, has been a reminder that life is precious and way too short. I don't know how long I have left, maybe a year, maybe two. Then again, if I fall into the 35% that beat this thing, I could have many more years. I'll stay positive that I am in the 35% and take it from there. I was told that if the cancer doesn't return in five years, chances are it won't so I'm going for five.

I do know I want to make the most of every day I have left. There's no room to be bitter towards ass-hole drivers or other people who tend to get on my nerves. No, I don't have the energy or the time to be negative; I do not want to waste even an hour being stressed or upset over anything. It's time to reflect on life and to live each day like it's the last.

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