I made a commitment to myself not to give an hourly update, on this blog. Not to be that guy.
That aside I thought I would relay this story. In the last, few weeks I have been feeling nostalgic. Thinking of people in my past. Remembering stories that I should have forgotten. Going through old photos I found one of Jan (wife), Darrel (son). Ben (friend) and his daughter. It was taken in Toppenish at the train museum. I had rushed into the little caboose and took the best seats only to give them up to my Family. I had been on this ride before. It was a short ride, but I wanted to enjoy it as much as possible. Darrel, has a train addiction, and so do I.
They jumped up the ladder, and settled in. I took the picture and sat down in the rear of the car.
That would have been the end of the story. Except….
When I sat down I made the acquaintance of a man, volunteering as a brake man on the train. I hope that was his title. Anyways, I watched him perform his jobs. Making sure we didn’t kill anyone as we navigated across a street in Toppenish.
We spoke about trains, and our history around the railroad. I mentioned my grand father, who had work most of his life on the rails.
We hit it off. We were a lot a like. He was a bit taller , but built the same.
When the ride ended, I offered my hand in friendship. He shook my and told me his name, Greg Bliss.
I stood there to what could only been described as Slack jawed. My heart rate increased, my face went flush and I thought I would pass out.
He was observant of my condition and asked what was wrong.
I first refused to tell him. I am not really sure why. He was larger as I mentioned before. He stood there holding his ground, waiting for my answer. He smiled and said. “This isn’t because of my mother.”
“Well, kind of. Is she Jerry Bliss?”
“She was,” he answered.
“Well, I was Married to her once.” I exclaimed.
He laughed, “Well, she had never told me about you.”
I could tell he wasn’t convinced. I did my best to remember everything I could about her. I told him we meant her camping, on the O’Sullivan damn Reservoir.
He agreed his family liked to camp there.
I told him we had a on again, off again relationship that lasted 8 years before we ran off to Reno to get hitched. We weren’t together very long and divorced a few months later. Which time I never really knew what had happen to her or my step son, Gregory.
He smiled. He said that he needed to talk to his grand mother about all of what I had said.
I thought that it would be a good idea, I remember her as been someone that was fair and honest. I also had knew that she had raised him most of his life at least until he was 4 years old.
I introduced him to My wife, Jan. and Darrel my boy.
Took a picture and then said our goodbyes.
A few days later, he called and his grandmother had confirmed the history that I had shared with him.
For a few months we kept in touch, but slowly drifted apart.
I think of my past and remember the ex-wife. I know now that I had been to young to get married. But I do remember thinking it over and having more than a few conversations with God about take a wife that already had a child. I excepted him as my own and he took to my very quickly.
When we separated, I missed him the most. I still have friends that can remember what I went through back in college and contested to the night spent wallowing in my depression.
There were days I wanted it to go back to the way it was, but statements were made and life’s had been changed forever.
Thanks, Greg for being my Friend on Facebook. If you will allow me, I will try to be a better friend and a better man.