I Am Sam: Piece Two

I haven't seen my father in months. Seasons and holidays have come and gone. Strangers show up at the door more than my kin. The last day was a hot summer evening in August. Unannouced, but always welcome, he showed up while Eric's family was visiting and roasting marshmallows in the fire pit. The kids always enjoy the antics he encourages, but before he could leave one of the girls had snatched, and broken, a small piece off of his sunglasses. We searched and searched but, the tiny part was never found. He was awfully upset. Part of me felt guilt. It was like being five years old again, I might as well have done it myself for how bad I felt. He left without the piece. The girls didn't understand. I wasn't sure how to explain it.
My little sister is a lot like my dad. Even though she's on the other side of the country their traits they carry are eerily similar. Not that these were bad. I've had to learn and adjust over time to the fact that we're just different. They need their own space. They don't need people, and desire very minimal social interaction. The more commitments they feel pressure from, the more unhappy they are. It's funny. I don't think they see it from each other. Only from the outside looking in, could you tell how identically they choose to live. For years I have been the bridge between the two, passing bits of information here and there. Letting one know that the other is alive and well when I talk to them. At first I'd think it odd to not see a (living) father for more than half a year. Then I start to realize it's probably been 2 years or more since he's seen my sister. Her moving out of state even put me down to just a beach vacation with her once a year. I grew up with an immediate family that preferred to be the exact opposite. The less immediate we all were, the better everyone's lives seemed to be.


I had always felt like the sponge placed in between them all. I was the only one absorbing anything. And anything I retained, had no other place to go. I have years of useless information banked away. I am in the game, but I was never one of the main players. Something more like a silent referee. Watching everyone's choices and keeping a tallied score. I prefered it this way. I am not an active part in the story, I am simply the story teller. Out of all the traits my family members got that I did not, I was the only one given words.
Everyone else values the actions (or lack thereof). I value the story.
 It wasn't until my 23rd year that I realized I was more than an absorbant center piece between all of these people. I needed to learn their stories to learn my story. Without these big pieces and the reasons people did what they decided to do, the little pieces never would've made sense. Unlike many, I had to dig for the truth behind mine. A lie stuck to well, is no different than the truth. I had my work cut out for me.
If you could know the exact way you will die, would you want to know?
It's kind of like that.....
If you could know exactly who you are and how slim the likelyhood of your existence was, would you want to know?
For years I could not tell you much. I am Sam. I am here and I enjoy living. I am a teller of stories, and a seeker of truths. I fought harder for my truth than any one person should ever have to. My journey has given me a respect for all. The good, the bad and the ugly. It's all of value and it's all necessary. Life is similtanously more complex and more simple than you could ever imagine. Digging for skeletons that aren't your own may very well lead to your destructive ruin.
This didn't bother me anymore. Constantly turning a blind eye led to a rattling in my heart.
I needed to know who these people were. I needed to know what they've done.
It's on me to take over and carry the story. These will be my discoveries, cruel and beautiful. I can't look away. Like witnessing a fatal car crash, you know there's a good chance someone has died, but you can't bring yourself to turn away. You need to understand. You're personally invested in the disaster now. The outcome of everyone involved will have an effect on all of the bystanders.
Maybe you should go inside and close the drapes....

I wake Eric gently. We slept in the jeep again. It's never easy on the human back. Fairly normal when we are on a non traditional adventure though. He packed the survival snacks and hunting knives, I pack the data and information necessary for what we are trying to find. We drove all night through a mountainous region we could only imagine. The massiveness of it hid well in the darkness. We parked ourselves near some type of water. Only when the sun rose did we get to see the lake beside us. I was too anxious to sleep well. This time we needed to use a different skill set. We weren't hunting waterfalls. We were hunting people. People that could very well end up being ghosts. Armed with nothing more than a few papers and the names I had memorized we began my search. To find the stories I desired I needed to find elders. The closer somebody was to the truth in "real time", the more accurate the information would be. For the first time in years, I felt what it was to be truly nervous. I lacked my typical confidence. In exchange for the new information I was seeking, I had to leave my old perspectives on the waterbank. I had to let go of the rhyme so that I could find the reason.
The next 12 hours would change many peoples lives.
Regardless of anything cooked up, I had to stir the pot.