Dec 30
Lisafamily, Memories: All I've Got Left
In second and third grade there was a friend of mine, to this day remains the truest and best of friends, at least in memory.
As a young boy of the early 60s, I was forever outside at every chance. Unlike kids of today. Playing Army, building forts in the woods, riding bikes, roller-skating. I had many friends living in a middle class suburb of Seattle, the homes in my neighborhood distinctly different in style. Unlike the cookie-cutter style throughout the United States today.
As like these latter homes, so were the kids I played with, albeit one friend. Her name was Heidi. She was of German heritage and a few years younger than I. We got along famously! She was always amiable to my ideas of fun. When others were not to be found for various reasons, I could count on Heidi.
Most Saturdays, after breakfast and my assigned chores that my momma insisted be done before heading outside, I would set off to find Heidi. She always beat me outside! And was waiting for me.
A lot of times, during spring and summer, we would head down the steep-sloped hill that we lived on, cross the street to a somewhat swamp basin that caught the rain from the sloping hills all around the area.
The tadpoles, frogs were much amusement; catching tadpoles to keep in jars. While I was somewhat careful as not to get my Ked’s too muddy, Heidi seemed not to care. Her focus was locating frogs, her feet and ankles covered with mud.
Somewhat, I now sadly regret times I forbore her company when the boys my age came around to ride bike. Oh, she kept up all right, but I would tell her to go away! She was interfering with my fun with the other boys. She never seemed to hold this against me, as a good friend, she always forgave and forgot.
Afternoons in the summers of Seattle are glorious. Never too hot, cloudy most times, but the days that blue skies prevailed were a perfect fit with the emerald state.
I would often eat lunch outside on the deck off the kitchen, sitting on the bench with my PB&J, chips and Kool-Aid, and share my lunch with Heidi; she was always up for PB&J. My favorite picture is of her and I, me kneeling with my arm around her for she was much shorter than I.
We had a plum tree in the backyard that when in season produced tasty snacks and Heidi and I would each have one, though her favorite were apples. My momma would core and quarter them for me and of course Heidi got half.
In the corner of our fenced backyard we had a tall mature fir tree perfect for a young boy to climb. Heidi wasn’t a good tree climber, so she would wait patiently as I would explore its heights from time to time. She was a good fence climber, though! The 6-foot privacy fence that surrounded the backyard, which my daddy built, was but a small leap and shinny over for her. She was athletic to be sure; much faster than I. Probably the German heritage.
When the thirst demanded reprieve from much activity, we headed to the deck for a glass of juice or water. Heidi seemed to get water everywhere; slurping and looking up at me with water dripping from her mouth, licking the water with her long red tongue from her hairy nose.
As you have all ready guessed, Heidi was a German Sheppard, small in stature even for a female Sheppard; our family dog. But she was mine. My companion. She slept with me on my bed, even pushing me to the outer most edge while she pushed her legs against the wall to get most comfortable. But to m that was fine. Heidi was ther with me. Heidi consoled me in the dark of night.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Dec 28
Lisafamily
This is from Clark’s sister Lisa:
So after a bit of soul-searching, self-preservation and all that other shit that I’ve used for distancing myself from my brother, I got slammed into reality and am hitting the ground running. This means I have stepped into my own shoes that have been missing for many years and am challenging the future with renewed exhilaration.
Therefore, I will dive into Clark’s letters and writings to begin posting the best and the worst.
It is my hope that he will again write new stories and memoirs for me to post herein. My selfish hiatus was to reexamine my life and obviously it was for good reason! Now I’m back and you will need to prepare for some fantastically riveting works, though I may be a bit biased.
As short as this is, to those who peruse these words I dare you to keep up with my brother’s and my writings. Be assured you might get bored now and again, but if you keep up with our goings on you might just come to say, “Damn, they have quite a colorful life!”
Aug 03
Lisafamily anger, bi-polar disorder, family, grief, grieving, mom, prison, sister
The post today is written by my sister Lisa after her recent visit to see me in prison.
Whilst in Florida setting up a permanent camper site, I took my final days to drive to the panhandle. Outside of Panama City, about 20 miles east there is a small town called Wewahitchka. Here is where the prison sits, in the middle of a swamp where my brother Clark resides.
I had picked my mother up at the new airport in Panama City so that we might visit Clark together.
Knowing that my brother suffers from bi-polar disorder, still I was ill-prepared for his state during this time. Sure, he mustered a laugh or to at some remembrance or joke. But for the most part he was angry. Plain anger oozed out of every word and tone. At one point I had to place a hand over my mother’s trembling hand to nudge her to silence. Mom’s urging for Clark to try and rekindle his faith more, journal more, read more, etc. only encouraged an elevation of anger in his voice and agitation in his manner.
Sometimes you just have to go with the moment and let it be.
What must be remembered by all who know and love Clark is that he is grieving. Grieving has five main steps and each can be gone through again and again. And steps can overlap.
1-Denial-”this can’t be happening to me”, No crying. Not accepting or even acknowledging the loss, in Clark’s case his freedom that was soon to be taken after the crime.
2-Anger-”why me?”, feelings of wanting to fight back, or get even with those whom choose to not to keep in touch seeming to care not. Or just his whole situation and the loss of freedom.
3-Bargaining-bargaining often takes place before the loss, but in Clark’s case it may simply be an attempt to make deals with God to stop or change his situation.
4-Depression-overwhelming feelings of hopelessness, frustration, bitterness, self pity, mourning loss of freedom as well as the hopes, dreams and plans for the future. Feeling lack of control, feeling numb. Perhaps feeling suicidal.
5-Acceptance-there is a difference between resignation and acceptance. You have to accept the loss, not just try to bear it quietly. Realization that it is his own doing that will keep him from living in freedom. Finding the good that can come out of the pain of loss, finding comfort and healing. Our goals turn toward personal growth. Stay with fond memories of life outside of prison.
At this visit I found Clark to be angry, at his own admission, at everything and everyone. He won’t go outside to the ‘yard’ because it angers him to not have the ability to do more or go further. It’s simply reminds him of what he no longer has. He’s angry with family that refuse to visit or write.
He has a lot of depression as of this visit with his feelings of numbness and lack of control. I don’t believe him to be suicidal, but more self-preserving. His anger and numbness at this time keep him protected.
When starting this website, Clark was elated to have an outlet. With time his manic state of writing seemed ceaseless. But then, as is normal with the disorder, he cycled down. Believing his writings useless and childlike, he stopped.
He has promised to send me the rest of his novel work to be proofed and then I will forward the first two chapters and the last at the request of a professor friend of ours in Florida.
It is my hope that he will resume writing again soon, but I do understand the need for him to cycle up once again before this is possible.
Please consider writing Clark and if you ever will be in his area ask him to send you a visitor form as it will need approved before you would be allowed to see him. And check out the prison site here to learn about visiting rules. His mailing address is on the Contact page.
Lisa Coleman Griffiths
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