This is as far off topic as it gets.

The following piece was written for a  message board I've been posting to for years.

The events are true, this happened to me on Sunday, there are several good life lessons here.

Life Through Justin's Eyes

Many of you know that my daughter gave birth to my first grandchild in October of last year.

When she told me she was pregnant, I'd never met her new boyfriend. Seeing as how he'd knocked up my daughter without so much as a "how'd ya' do" to me & her dad.

WE disliked him before we ever set eyes on him.

As time passed we grew to like him even less, if that was possible. We knew we were getting only mightykid's side of the story, and she was hormonal to say the least.

But, there you have it.

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In May they came to visit, and the flood came, and they were stranded, in our house.....argh!!!

So, heck.
We did what all Tennesseans do in a flood.
We went fishing.

Justin loves to night fish, and we insist in our house, "on the river after dark?....only with a buddy."
So, hubby was working, mightykid had mightygrandkid, and I was (drum roll).... you guessed it, his "buddy".... :twisted:

We passed the nights sitting in captain's chairs on various boat ramps catchin' whatever would bite.

And he began to open up to me.

Not long after his 17th birthday he fell asleep on the couch, and when he woke up, he couldn't move. His mom thought he was trying to play hooky from school, but after some insistence, she took Justin to a local minor emergency clinic, they looked him over, decided he'd pulled a muscle, gave him a shot of steroids & sent him home.
He felt a little better for a week or so, then again, he was completely debilitated. His mom took him back....another shot & home.


6 weeks later, he was knocking on deaths door, his mom called an ambulance, he was taken to a large hospital 30 miles away & they did blood work.

Justin had a stage 4 non Hodgkin's lymphoma.

17 years old, staring death in the eye, he spent almost a year in isolation, then another driving back & forth to St. Jude's for chemo, today his odds of living another 7 years are less than 30%, though for now, he's in remission.

In all, they ended up staying with us (an hour from their home) for 6 weeks.
We fished everyday, every night, the practical jokes were varied from the simple rubber snake in a tackle box to the complex, no holds barred....
We all went to a family reunion in Ky. together, my 13 year old protested " a day with 100 old folks" bitterly.... so Justin, (being Justin) hid a water gun in his cargo pocket & shot my son every time his back was turned, the entire day with "100 old folks" turned into a day no one attending will ever forget.

My brother in law slipped off to wal mart & bought dozens of water guns & all hell broke loose.

All because Justin understood what it's like to be 13 & bored shi*less. The "100 old folks" were kids again, everyone left the park soaked, sides splitting from laughing all day.

I learned an important lesson over those weeks.

Justin eats life with both hands. He doesn't have time to fret or worry...and he sure doesn't have the time for self pity.

When he smiles, he smiles with his whole body.

He wants to see the sunrise, and set,......because he knows what it means to be given another day...and he has no intention to let it pass without soaking up every second.

I began to see how, in my feeling of invincibility, I often find myself wishing the hours away.

Looking forward.... instead of enjoying now.

Today that lesson was handed to me.
Today, I went fishing alone.
Like a dumbass.

Hubby doesn't like it, but I've taken a shine to watching the sunrise. This morning, as I loaded my gear into my car, hubby insisted I wear my hunting vest, and carry my gun...on my person, not just in the console of my car.

I scoffed at him...what could possibly happen, the place I was going is always crawling with families putting their boats in the river, and heck, it's the weekend....right?

I go there to fish at sunrise 3 or 4 days a week.

Today was different though. When I got to the boat ramp, there were plenty of parked cars with empty trailers, nothing unusual there. But the fishing dock was deserted, there's usually a couple of older men I've grown to know over the summer. We help each other net fish & retrieve hooks. But they weren't there.

Perfect, I welcomed the quiet.

I watched the fish jump by the dozens, all over the lake, but the water had a slick green color, and I felt uneasy with every passing moment.

It was TOO quiet.

I decided to walk to the other side of the boat ramp & see if the water looked any better and as I came off the dock, I noticed a middle aged man, at a trash can, about 30 feet to my right...just down the side walk, he opened the can, and I assumed he was going to throw away the coffee cup in his hand.....no, he puked in the trash can & lowered the lid. He turned around just in time to see me come around the corner & it startled him.

He stepped back & almost fell over the can......he was drunk as all hell... I MEAN LOADED.

He stood by the can as I passed him, I nodded...he swayed in the breeze.....and I got that feeling....that gut feeling, that Dear God...oh, holy Fu*K feeling....
I darted my eyes searching for anybody...we were alone.

I walked over to the other side of the ramp & put my gear down, freeing my hands up.
He stood, swaying & watching...so I picked up my fishing rod & cast to the weeds on the far bank.
I turned to discover he was walking in my direction, our eyes met, and he turned & walked away.
I reeled in my line a little, then looked to see him circle the upper part of the ramp, and turn back my way....again, our eyes met & he turned away.
We danced this dance for what seemed like an eternity, every time he circled, he came closer until he was getting into what I call "personal space"
I turned to face him again. He stood, and looked back, as if to say "there's no one here to save you'"

He stepped forward, I bent at the knees, placing my fishing rod on the ground with one hand & reaching into a cardboard box I carry lures in with the other.

His eyes followed my hand to the box.

My other hand, however slipped into the pocket of my hunting vest.....and I stood..... my .380 less than 2 feet from his nose.

I said....."really"......

"are you sure?"

I raised my other hand to steady, ....eased off the safety, ...and his eyes widened as he looked directly into the barrel of my gun.

Then I heard a noise, at first I was puzzled....but I refused to drop my eyes.

His hands flew into the air, he tripped back 2 or 3 steps, fell, turned & ran.

As he vanished into the woods I realized what I'd heard.

It was the sound of urine dripping off his pants leg.
His pants were soaked.

It's all about the sunrise guys. I didn't know if I'd ever see another.

I won't pretend to say I understand fully what Justin went through for 2 years.

But I do know what it felt like to dance with the devil....on that dock today. That 20 minutes or so felt like an eternity.

Just imagine what 2 years of that feeling is like.

~Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass....
It's about pulling a gun on a drunk man with very bad intentions......

& living to tell about it~

MM

That's a nice story Thanks for sharing!