So Help Me God

 

I’m sittin’ in my car stealin’ McDonald’s wifi.

My girl sent me a message.

She says she loves me.

I don’t know why this is so hard for me to believe but I deal with it by tellin’ myself, “It’s more important how you feel about her.”

I reply, “I love you, too.”

I don’t think this is hard for her to believe but I could be wrong.

It’s 6:29 p.m. and night is almost here.

It’s comfortable in my car.

October comes soft and cool to this part of Florida and I, for one, am grateful.

Deacon calls from the airport.

He has more news about Joey’s baptism…

Joey’s communion.

Joey’s 10 years old but he’s goin’ to have to take most of the same classes he took when he was 8.

“Because he’s 10,” Says Deacon. “He’s going to have to take these classes. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make this hard.”

And he’s not.

He’s tryin’ to help.

I’m tryin’ to help…Joey.

I’m tryin’ to help him do what he wanted to do 2 years ago…when he was in second grade…I’m tryin’ to help him receive his Holy Communion.

It really shouldn’t be that hard. Joey’s mother is Catholic. And, if she’d’ve had him baptized when he was baby, when most Roman Catholic moms have their children baptized, these classes wouldn’t have to be taken and his being able to take communion would require no help from me or Deacon….in fact, if he had been baptized as an infant, he would’ve had his First Holy Communion with his Catholic School second grade class. In double fact, if his lazy mother had’ve only completed the last of two things she’d been ask to complete, a task that might’ve taken, at the most, an afternoon, he would’ve received the sacrament with his class.

Now, I know some folks have reason to be upset with The Church and, when all this was goin’ on, I thought, “Joey’s mother might be one of these people.”

So I asked her and she said, “No. Not at all. I want Joey to be baptized. In fact, I already have his Godparents picked out.”

Now, your guess is as good as mine as to why nothin’ happened. Other than it was up to her and she let her boy down…again.

That’s why, for the second time in 3 years, it’s up to me. And, this go round, I’m goin’ to make sure the i’s are dotted, the t’s crossed, the hoops have been jumped through and the red tape addressed.

I’m gonna make sure the classes are repeated and all the forms are signed, sealed and delivered.

I’m gonna make sure of all of this coz I’ve already made sure this is what Joey wants…and, by God, I’m gonna make sure he gets this thing. this long, drawn out, much harder to get than it ought to be thing he wants, I’m gonna make sure he gets it.

 

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About joefingas

I am a songwriter, poet, blues singer, and a boogie woogie piano player. I have a grandson but I have no children of my own. All my women have wised up and left me. I was a bum, a wino, a drug/alcohol counselor, a prevention/intervention specialist and a pretender. I have no more time to pretend.
This entry was posted in Blues, Co-Dependency, Denial, Love, Memoir, Parenting, Poetry, Relationships, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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