Friday, August 20, 2004

Cover me

I finally got my apartment around the end of July, early August of 1993. And even though I lived so close to Claudia now, I dont even recall ever having spoke to her after the funeral. I gave her the same consideration I would give to any other fake on earth. None.

I surrounded myself with an overload of friends. There were nights when there were 10 people sleeping all over my house. It wasnt long after I moved in that the dreams.. or whatever you would call them began. I wondered then why it didnt start until I was there. I had this antique chest of drawers. I guess you would call it a vanity dresser. With a big mirror and tiny little drawers. I had it forever. It was the one piece of furniture in my new apartment that I had around when I was a kid growing up.

I remember waking up one night, feeling like I was being watched. And I remember laying there in the dark looking around my room. And I remember knowing in my mind that someone was there. As I glanced into the corner that the vanity sat in, I seen a figure, a shadow, just sitting there watching me. I was so scared I froze up that first night. I wanted to jump up and turn the light on, but I couldnt move. After fear came relief. Relief? I had no idea why I was so calm when I could clearly see a shadowy figure in my room. This shadow was small, around my height, and had what appeared to be long hair. And I felt no bad intentions from it, I felt concern coming from that direction, and suddenly I felt not so alone. I remember turning my head away from that direction and refusing to look back. Denial, big time. Even though I was never one to be unbelieving in spirits or ghost, I wrote it off as just a bad dream when I got up the next day. I told no one about it. They already knew I was crushed and missing Steve desperately. Had he been alive at that time I knew he would have been living with me then, protecting me from a crappy neighborhood, and Im sure my face still reflected that on most days.

I laugh when I think about it now, smiling really big. Steve wasnt the type to be wrote off. Neither am I for that matter. But all those nights we sat in his car in my front yard, if I had a secret I wasnt supposed to share with him, he always knew it, and harrassed me until I confessed. He didnt take to being ignored or put off. Not in life, and apparently not even in death.

Night after night, I woke up with that same feeling, seeing that same shadow, feeling that same presence in my room, so close, but so damn far away. I believe it was about a year after his death that it continued. I even began to sleep with my lights on. Me? I wasnt even scared of the dark as a child. Blind mans bluff with flashlights or flashlight tag was a common game for the kids in the neighborhood. The older kids that is. But I always joined in and they always tried to scare me because I was so young. It never worked. But here I was a grown woman, and I couldnt go to bed without blaring lights on in my bedroom. No one ever asked me why.
The light didnt help, it didnt make him go away. I didnt want him to go away, but I felt like Id heard so often, that my grief was keeping him bound to earth, when he had a much better place to be. My angel, he was there for me. He didnt leave me until I was ready for him to go. Every night, he was there. And every morning I woke up telling myself I was going crazy. My eyes had to be playing tricks on me. This kind of thing only happened on T.V. But it was him. I know it. It was him the same way it was the night he died, standing there smoking his cigarette the way only he did. I dont think I ever spoke to him those nights. I guess I was afraid he might answer. He was covering me. He was there, even though he wasnt.

Some people have looked at me like I am insane when I tell them I dont fear death. Of course I fear the moment of death. Of course I dont want to die in pain or alone, but fear it? No, my angel was waiting just on the other side for me. He still is. I would never commit suicide, but when I do go, I will go in peace. Who wouldnt? Who could live through these horrible moments and not look forward to opening their arms and souls to those who did so, so often, for me, when I needed it the most.

"Cover me
When I walk alone
Cover me
When my stance it stumbles home
Cover me
We'll trip on through the sands of time
And cover me
'Cause I've been branded
I've lost my mind
Lost my mind
But you'll cover me yeah
Won't you give me shelter from the storm"

He did. He covered me until I had the strength to cover myself again. In his life, he had such serious impact on me, and he wasnt going to let that stop in death.

Rest in Peace my angel
Steven Gregory Kinzie
November 28th 1972 - May 16th 1993

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