Tim Brough's Black Leather Bookshelf

 

Louisville Kentucky, 1999. There was snow on Christmas Eve. My first white Christmas in almost a decade. I remember a deep melancholy on that night, as I’d arrived in Louisville a after harrowing four day drive from Los Angeles, during which the SUV that had been donated to me by my best buddy Bert had blown its transmission and nearly left me stranded in the high mountains of California. It was only by sheer dumb luck that I broke-down near a junkyard/U-Haul dealer and the owner traded me the SUV title for a truck rental that I made it the rest of the way east. The U-Haul itself was almost hollow-empty in appearance; what few possessions I had left fit into the back of that Chevy Blazer and I’d started out with 500$ in my pocket. By the time I was approaching Kentucky, I was sacred to buy any food, lest I use the remaining $20 in my pocket and end up needing fuel.

Ronnie held me in the doorway that night, assuring me everything would be OK. But all I felt was defeated, lost and demoralized. I’d lost my home, my business, almost every possession I owned, and most devastatingly, my partner Peter in the previous 10 months leading to that night. And I was already careening towards a nervous breakdown that would have me hitting rock-bottom by the summer of 2001.

Was the end of the century really 10 years ago?

In the interim, I have gone through four jobs, five cars, had four books published, been in a relationship that has entered its seventh year with a wonderful man. Two ex-lovers have passed, along with a mentor and many good friends. I lost a dog and gained a cat. I’ve done readings and been on author’s panels. I’ve acted in two movies. I sang on stage with Jill Sobule. I started my own website and picked up a blogging habit. I worked on a political campaign.

Many of my cousins, babies when I was a teen, have children of their own now. A few of them got married and the families all wanted Joel to be with us at the weddings. Joel's eldest daughter gave birth to Shoham, making the two of us grandparents. We went to Europe together, and spent time in Israel with Joel's daughters and Shoham. My younger sister remarried. My older sister is estranged. My parents are still here and both retired.

I fell to a low-weight of 180 pounds while I was sick and now weigh a number I’m a bit embarrassed to admit to.  It’s been ten years since I stood in that Kentucky doorway, crying. Almost nine since I popped open my pill bottles and gave up. And even though Joel is Jewish and we don’t really do Christmas at our house, I can see the snow on the ground for White Christmas this year.

It’s almost 2010. I think I’m better now. Thanks to everyone who has been there with their support, encouragement and love.