Hello in there

Tonight I can’t stop listening to John Prine. His writing is genius. Like,

“When I woke up this morning, things were lookin' bad

Seemed like total silence was the only friend I had
Bowl of oatmeal tried to stare me down... and won
And it was twelve o'clock before I realized that I was havin'...no fun”

Today’s music just doesn’t have enough staring contests with bowls of oatmeal for my tastes. Prine gets it. He’s loved. He’s lost. He knows the lonely.

His song that got me tonight was “Hello in There.” Specifically, it was the line that goes, “old people just grow lonesome. Waiting for someone to say, ‘hello in there. Hello.’” I pictured my grandpa at his old folks’ home. He was checking out of this life just as I was thinking I had it all figured out. I was 18 and knew it all. Grandpa was 90+ and stuck in a small room at Garden Villas retirement home, serving out the rest of his sentence.

He just wanted someone…anyone…to tell him “hello in there.” I’d stop by for a 30 minute visit here and there. The smile on William R. Atkinson’s face was pretty priceless when he saw me. He was sure I was going to become president and he liked to call my buddy craig the vice.

Actually…grandpa is the one who gave craig the nickname "fat kid". I would periodically bring craig to visit my gramps and one day grandpa said those words that every high school senior hopes to hear, “craig…have you been gaining weight?”

Another time I brought my tall, skinny friend Greg to say hi to grandpa. Grandpa said, “nice to meet you Jack and the Bean stick, but where’s that fat kid at?”

It had to be quite a treat for grandpa to get to use his sense of humor. For people to laugh at his jokes. For anyone to give a shit about him at all. How fucking lonely must it have been to move from Chicago to Kansas city to die. He knew no one.

So the 30 minutes that I or my other family members gave him every so often surely felt like heaven. Oh shit…that reminded me that I found out years later that grandpa used to make out with his next door neighbor during Wheel of Fortune every night.  So, the joy grandpa expressed when i visited may have been nothing compared to the 7 minutes in heaven that Maisy gave him nightly. Then again, I’m pretty sure they stopped speaking at some point, so the lonely he felt at the end must have been hell.

I let myself feel lonely recently. Like it was a bad thing. Fuck that. I forgot how much I love being single. The lonely isn’t the problem for me. It’s continuing to get in relationships that fuck me up. I feel fantastic when it’s just me, but then inevitably I end up getting into a relationship and feeling a hell of a lot more lonely in that space. it's been a long slow process for me to actually like myself, but i'm 4 for 4 in ending relationships hating myself.

And, I’m no dr. drew, but I think it’s supposed to be the opposite. I shouldn’t find myself wishing that the girl I chose to spend my time with would just fucking say “hello in there.” Each of them, in their own way, have had their own shit that kept them from being capable of giving me what I need.

But, that’s the thing. What the fuck do I really need? My life is pretty perfect. I get to make sure my kids know every day that I’m saying “hello in there.” When I’m in a relationship, I lose some of that. I get distracted. My head gets fucked. I lose myself.

I had another moment tonight where I’m shaking my head in disbelief. It has been a really long time since I’ve felt this good about me. I know I’m not all the way back. I know I’m damaged. Again. But, god damn…I can feel the good vibes bubbling up. Hell, even just wanting to write again is a near miracle. This is the stuff that gives me life.

This…and story time. Telling stories and sharing pain with friends or strangers has been my fuel. And I think that “I’m fucked up/you’re fucked up” moment I love to share with other people is what Prine was writing about in “hello in there”. Hey…I see you…it’s not that bad…you’re not as alone as you think you are. That kind of thing.

This job I do these days is great, but it really isolates me. And I’m not meant to be isolated. I’m meant to interact with other humans. The fact that I let the good parts in me…the parts that desire to seek out other fucked up people who need a pick me up, who need a hello in there…go largely to waste is sad, but it’s so fucking great to know I’m back.

I was going to say the doctor is in, but mother fucker I am only a partially licensed cosmetologist at best...uh, what? what i'm trying to say is that I am in no way qualified to cure what ails you. But, I’d love to hear your story. And you can listen to mine if you want to cringe a little and not feel so bad about yourself. Inbox me. Text me. Let’s go grab a drink and talk stories. Hello in there. Hello.