What Darryl Taught Me...

Today is my friend Darryl's* birthday.

When I met Darryl, he was my adversary. Let me explain.

I was eighteen years old and living with my boyfriend in a tiny suburban apartment. My parents had died years before and the stories my little 15 year old sister told me about her foster home were frightening. The worst story had something to do with a broom handle and a very private orifice. It took all the self-control in the world not to evoke violence on the scum that allowed that to happen.

My boyfriend and I had enough: we decided to try to take her in. We got married and began a two year legal affair that led us to meet Darryl.

My sister was fairly traumatized, to say the least. She ran away from the foster home and met Darryl on the streets of Downtown Denver. He took her in. At that point, Darryl began fighting for the custody of my sister, too.

Darryl was kind enough to allow me to visit my sister. I did not have a clue what to think about him. His living room was filled with assorted phalluses of various shapes and sizes. They were displayed around the front room like one would display photos of family. I'd have to estimate that he had 50 to 75 of those things....they were everywhere!! That must be why they called him "Woody".

Then, there were the cats. There must have been 20 cats. The smell was, indeed, too intense for words. The man certainly had a big heart: he could not let anyone or anything stay out in the cold.

During our court battle, Darryl, my sister, and another man came to our apartment. The day was 10-24-89 and it is burned into my memory like a slow movie.

Darryl grabbed me and pushed me into my bedroom. I will never forget the threat that Darryl made as he pushed me down onto a waterbed and crawled on top of me.

I remember being told that I owed him $400 per month for the privilege of caring for my own sister (because that was what the state would pay him if he won custody). Then, Darryl said that I owed him something more because it was his birthday and he began to remove my clothing....the only reason that he stopped was that I told him my husband was on his way home.

He wasn't. It was my husband's 24th birthday, so there was the slight chance he would come home. I never told my husband about that incident. He was known for his quick and dangerous temper as a young man. I am certain that he would have killed Woody.

But, the threat of sexual assault was enough for me to drop the legal battle. Darryl won by default. I avoided him for years. I rarely told anyone why.

The truth of the matter is that my sister has a habit of bringing men to my home that expect things, well, things that they are not entitled to have. She is a prostitute and I guess that kind of expectation comes with the territory. It's best to avoid the problems by keeping her at an arms length.

Still, once in a while, my path would cross with Darryl's. Over time, my extended family began to treat him as one of their own. He met and married a lovely social worker. They raised a son.

If anyone needed something, Darryl was always there. This allowed me the chance to get to know Darryl, albeit very guardedly. The more I spoke him him, the more his personal story came out.

Darryl was adopted as a child. Even though his adopted parents were wonderful, he said that he spent most of his life feeling as though something was missing.

He spent his life trying to make a difference the only way he knew how. He took in "throw-away" kids and animals, trying to give them the family they so deserved. Over time, he took in at least three more foster children.

There is no such thing as throw-away people.

As Darryl aged, he found his birth family. From that point forward, the man had a presence about him that could best be described as angelic. He did not hold a paying job, rather, he volunteered 40 hours a week at the local food bank and spent time helping the homeless.

Darryl died two years ago. His last words to me were "live for love".

The night before he died, I dreamed of my former husband. In the dream, he told me vividly that he had a stroke and that his mother had died of a heart attack. I woke up in tears and prayed like crazy for several hours before the phone rang.

It was Darryl's birth brother. He wanted to let me know that Darryl had been in the hospital for nearly a day due to a brain aneurysm. He did not make it. I was also informed that Darryl's mother-in-law died the week before of a heart attack.

Darryl was interesting in that he did not believe in degrees of separation. There was no such thing as being his foster child: you were his child. His mother-in-law was his mother. His sister-in-law was his sister and so on. In fact, he found a way to make everyone a part of his extended family.

As Darryl aged he became very open and very loving with everyone.

The dream was weird. I dreamed of a man who shared Woody's birthday...but the message was spot on.

The day he died was the first day of a horrible blizzard. It kept people stuck in their homes for several days. On the day of his funeral, we left two hours early and managed to drive 30 miles to the church to pay our respects. Within one block of the church, the traffic light malfunctioned. We waited at least 45 minutes to get out of that mess. I was there so long, I began to hallucinate.

I thought I heard Darryl's voice again saying "live for love" and a white bird flew to the traffic light. I watched it perch on the light post before the light turned green and traffic began to move.

We still missed his funeral service. I think Darryl knew that we tried to be there for him.

Every October 24th, I think of Darryl and his attempts to make the world a better place. Yeah, as a young man he was scary and intense - but - his life was one of growth. If we are judged, I hope that we are judged by what we learn from our lessons and what we become throughout the years - not- the sins of our youth.

My friend was forgiven a long time ago.

Happy Birthday!