"Epiphany"

 “Epiphany”

   A realization.  A Dear God.  A holy crap.  An I'll be damned.  A revelation.  A sad truth.
A devastating insight.  A harsh truth.  A holy f--k. 
Dear God, help me.

   I think I see a man in the river.  He just jumped off the bridge and into the icy river.
I have to save him.  He must be saved!

   It was July 24, 1984.
   I do not remember the weather.  For me, it was hot.
   Jeanine, my girlfriend of three-plus years, was getting antsy. She realized that she was dating a big bag of stupid, pulling a wagon full of indecision.  Our relationship was going nowhere. While we laughed, made great love, drank, and smoked a little, she was on a solid career track. I was not.  I was working, not saving, partying, and stagnating, she was teaching first graders and special ed. kids already.  I was taking some college classes, not applying myself fully, and having a lot of immature, irresponsible fun. 
   While my "Fun Bunch" friends were schooling, working, planning, engaging, and planning to marry, I was the conductor of the party train, travelling with like-minded revelers.  Woo Wooooo!
   Jeanine was ready for the next steps.  Engagement. Marriage. Family.  To that, I said, "Yikes!"

   In our nice three years together we had travelled, gone to beaches and swam wherever we could, dined well, and had a beverage or ten. Sadly, I was enjoying the ride, surrounded by people who were actually working towards achieving career and personal goals. The nerve of them.  Yet, this party train is hauling ass...

   “My” sweet Jeanine asked me if we were going to plan a future together and to consider getting married. Wow. I was so not ready for this, although, in respect for her, I should have.  My mind was elsewhere.  Maybe I AM stagnating.   Around 7 PM, Jeanine picked me up from my no brain lumber yard job, which was nice of her, since she lived a good 15 miles from my workplace.
   Asking me if I loved her and of my intentions, I said, “Yes I love you. but I'm not sure right now. I'm trying to figure things out.”  She asked me how long that would take. I followed with another feeble answer, half scared, half non-committal, completely unready.
   After Jeanine's epiphany that I was, in fact, not planning ahead or considering a life with her, she told me that she had to break up with me.  After attempts at explanation and some tears, we were done. Three plus years, poof. Such is romance. Fleeting is love.
   The smart and sexy Jeanine will have me no more.  I was crushed.  Not despondent but ruined psychologically.  At least I knew what my plans were that night.  Beers with the guys. Yea. My only option. A lower case hoorah!
   Not thinking immediately of the ramifications of life without Jeanine, I grinded on, working, trying to distance run again, hoping beyond hope that she would call me to make up and get back together.  I needed a chance to correct my wrong of negligence. As in neglecting to consider the feelings of a young woman that I cared deeply for.
   She acted hastily, perhaps, in dumping poor little old me on my unmotivated ass.  Wake up call?  Yes?!?! 
   My not so young anymore (24) mind and thoughts were thrust into adulthood in the blink of an eye. You must answer these very adult and long-term questions about your future now.  Right now.  Got it?
   Failing to provide the response that “my” sweet Jeanine wanted to hear, it was no longer us.  It was just me.
Maybe I'll give that girl Veronica a call.  In my dreams I had other new girlfriend prospects.
   Managing to make it through the weekend to the next work week,  I foresaw more drudgery, more dawdling, more unintellectual pursuits, less assertiveness. 
   Dear God, please help me to find a path, a way, a better life to create a better me.

Here is “my” Epiphany.

   I had to get out of there. I had to get the f--k out. Any place, anywhere, any job.  Except for my Mom and Dad, and friends who were all growing up to become solid adults, my Carle Place, Long Island had nothing left for me.
There was no longer anything or anyone for me here.  No girl, crap job, living at home, and the ever-looming failures to seize certain opportunities.
   Might I add a burgeoning love of beer, all types of exotic foreign beers, Belhaven Scottish Ale, Doppelspaten Optimator, and the French LaBelle Strasbourgeoise, to name a few.  The continuance of the partying ways wrought a new found havoc on this once former runs-like-the-wind, svelte frame. Not too long ago, I was a high school All-Nassau County Cross Country, running XC at Nassau Community College, and a three-time Long Island Marathon runner.  Where was that guy?  Now I was drinking and “chubbifying”.  Some friends were not only drinking beers or liquor, some were smoking weed or snorting cocaine, all of which represented fun, or escapism, or to mask real personal problems.  I MUST leave this all behind.  There must be something better.  I am dying here.  There must be a better me.

   Six days after Jeanine “released” me, on the morning of July 30, 1984, after doing very little research on the subject, I walked into a local long term U.S. government job opportunity office, filled out some paperwork, took an aptitude test and a physical exam.  After interviews by these job recruiters and review of the exam results, it was decided. There was no turning back. The papers were signed. It was final.  It was done. Talk about getting out of this one-horse-town.
   I had just enlisted in the United States Army.

Richard M.

Dec 2020