Prayers for Bobby - Leroy Aarons [66]
“I thought my life was going to be perfect up here, but I’ve become disillusioned pretty fast,” he wrote in early April, two months after his arrival.
I seem to have ruined my relationship with Jeanette….I don’t even know how it really happened…. I just woke up and found I had made a small but fatal mistake, the kind you don’t even know about until it’s far too late. I was mortified. I couldn’t say a word.
Despite that setback, his mood once again turned hopeful later in the spring.
I won’t give up. I really don’t know who or what is supplying me with this courage and strength. It must be the Lord Jesus. Thank you. Thank you for the will to live and survive. Now just give me a little bit of fighting spirit and then no one will get in my way. I will survive.
In early June, he wrote:
Tomorrow I’ll have been in Oregon 4 months. Overall I’d say my life is better off…. The pen I’m writing with says, “For with God nothing shall be impossible.” Luke 1:37. I think it’s true.
And, two weeks before his twentieth birthday:
It just occurred to me how happy I am that I no longer live at home. I am my own person now and that’s worth a million dollars to me. I always feel like a failure at home. It was a constant, awful feeling and now it’s gone. I’m not always happy of course, because I do become depressed occasionally, but that’s normal. I’m very proud of the fact that I’ve saved $500 in my savings account.
On his birthday, June 24, cards flowed from home. Joy and Ed sent different Snoopy cards. Joy wrote, “I get terribly depressed whenever I look at your picture. I miss you a lot and love you even more.” Ed said, “Hang in there and God bless you. Don’t you give up on anything…. I love you! I always will!”
Mary’s card said, “With God’s love and ours” and included the inevitable Scripture reference, this time Romans 8:28: “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”
By July, however, from Bobby’s perspective, God was doling out penitence. He imagined that the premature lines in his face were part of some kind of punishment. He also developed a case of genital warts, and was convinced that the pain of having them removed was a retribution. “As usual I end up suffering for my sins,” he told his diary.
He sensed that he was swimming upstream in a flow that engulfed optimism and determination. No matter how much he strove, a force was gripping him, pulling him down.
By mid-July, he was again in the depths of despair.
My life is over as far as I’m concerned. Isn’t that awful? I thought I’d last at least until twenty-five, but I guess not. I shouldn’t be writing this sort of thing; too bad because it’s what I feel. I hate living on this earth and I resent it quite a lot sometimes.
My hair is falling out and I’m getting wrinkles. Fuck you God! If it’s not one damn thing it’s something else and a person can only take so much. I think God must get a certain amount of self-satisfaction by watching people deal with the obstacles he throws in their path. “Ha! let’s see what Bobby does if his beautiful hair starts to go!” is what He must be saying to himself.
Well, I hate God for this and my shitty existence.
It didn’t help that Mary was still firing off missives on a regular basis. The latest one was
an awful letter…full of correction and guidance designed to steer me to the path of righteousness. I thought she knew most of the reason I left was because of her preaching, but I guess she’ll never quit.
Bobby would read these letters to Jeanette, and they would laugh and joke about them, which then made Bobby feel guilty.
Sometime over the next week, Mom was on the phone, driving home a new worry: AIDS.
“I know this is none of my business, but are you…are you protecting yourself?” she asked.
“Mom, please!” Bobby pleaded.
“Bobby, if you’ve got to play around, be careful. This AIDS is like Russian roulette. You might as well put a gun to your head.”
Bobby sounded resigned. The truth was he had been worried about