What Happened to Aye Aye?

I took the picture myself and added the caption with my legally obtained copy of  photo-altering software. You can save it to somewhere on your computer and re-upload it to anywhere on the Interwebz. Link backs are not necessary. If however, you are a copyright troll, your presence here is totally unappreciated. So go away and go bother someone else. No love for the DMCA.

Aayisha had been in the local x.a. meetings for many years. She went back out after six years or so and then came back in for six more years. She was a gentle soul, the only one of my friends who was willing to visit my dad at our house-- some friends were willing to have me bring him to their houses though-- and the three of us enjoyed some sun-tea on the back deck one afternoon. Aye Aye treated Dad like he was my dad. Not like he was my Dad with a terminal neurological disease that was eating his brain. Not like he was my Dad who was escaping from his former life. Just like a regular guy who happened to be here. She gave him a rare gift that day.

Aye Aye earned six years of abstinence in the rooms of x.a. the second time but then she found another way to remain free from active addiction. Unfortunately, the other way was an organization which had the characteristics of a manipulative religion. [A cult, okay? The new words that are supposed to describe "cult" just don't do it for me]. I suspected that we had lost her several years before another friend did. That hurt.

Even so, a few good times remained. But then she stopped returning phone calls or answering her door. We knew she was home. She just refused to answer the doorbell. We were broken-hearted but there was little we could do about that. 

This past summer, Aye Aye signed up for hospice services from the same place that helped my dad. She died in early February peacefully in bed with her family around her.

drama queen man: "Did you hear what happened to Aye Aye?" 

me (beginning to seethe): "No. What happened to Aye Aye?"

drama queen man: "She committed suicide and police found her body in her car."

me: "Oh really. Who told you that?"

drama queen man: "Some guy told me. And he ought to know."

my housemate: "Huh?"

me (to housemate): "Information without names is bullshit."

drama queen man: "Her picture was in the paper and everything."

me: "Her picture was in the paper next to her obituary. Aye Aye was receiving hospice services. She died. At home. In bed. With her family around her."

drama queen man: "Wella--"

me: "If you spread that around, I will be very angry. And it isn't true besides. She did not kill herself."

drama queen man: "Oh you know me. I wouldn't do that."

But he was willing to make the claim to me. I guess he didn't realize that Aye Aye and I had ever been friends.

sapphoq itching for a coffee says: Before you open your fat mouth in the rooms of recovery or anywhere else about what you know, think is true, or what someone else "told" you, please consider your motives. Gossip is ugly.
Sometimes we do things to each other, in spite of our abstinence. Don't make my burden heavier because you want people to think who you are ergo you spread false information around.

Gossiping Our Way Through Recovery

     I celebrate everyone who finds recovery through the drug court system. In the rooms of recovery, it ought not to matter who we are or how we got here. All of us were mandated. I was mandated by a dog who did not like me staying away from home for twenty two hours at a time. Other people were mandated by drug courts, family courts, husbands, wives, lovers, children, and others.

     None of us came into recovery smiling and full of grace. All of us were worn and ragged about the edges. We too could not sit still, fidgeted, talked during the meetings to those sitting next to us, got up to go to the bathroom or roam around. There are a few folks still alive who remember when I first ventured into a meeting. And I remember when most of the rest of us in our area first came in. None of us were looking too good. Nor were we good actors.

African Grey Parrot on a ladder with head down, caption reads "bad bird."

      In our area, there has been a division. There are folks who will no longer attend the meetings being held at a local outpatient treatment program strictly because "so many drug court people are there." That is their choice. 

"Emily has cooties" chalked on old tarmac.

     Of those with time who do attend the meetings where there has been an influx of people who are legally mandated, there are some of us who run our mouths off. And we have no business doing that. Even worse, there are a few who report back to legal officials who was at a particular meeting and what they talked about. This is wrong.

Halloween zombie half buried in the snow with a long tongue sticking out. Caption reads "GOSSIP is UGLY."

     When people have paper over their heads, a few misplaced words could land them into jail or prison. If you have a beef with someone who is in the legal system, you have no right to call someone up and say things like "This one has a bad attitude" or "That one does not sit still at meetings."

     It is the fault of counselors, probation and parole officers, and drug court officials who listen to your crap. But it is also your fault. Clean your own house.

Up close of dustballs with caption "Do your housework. Dustballs evolve."

     ~ where's that coffee? ~  

p.s. Pictures are captioned with description for low vision readers. If you want any of them, right-click to save to your computer. You can also use them in social media, although I don't know why you would want to. 
      For the Big Hollywood idiots: I took and altered these photos myself with my legally obtained cheap digital camera and software. So go away.