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Respect.
Some of you may have read in another thread, my anecdote about the passing of my father. In that that thread, amongst wrenching stories of loss by some of you, I related how my son grieved with guttural heaves from deep within. I had not seen grief like that before. His grief, so profound and so inviolate that I stood near him, not touching him, but so very close.Yet I could not intrude on him as he absorbed the final lesson my father taught us. |
Are you inspired, Lee? Inspired by love and life and laughter?
Is anyone out there at least minimally inspired? Shall I continue? Do I need to further share these stories to total strangers, unseen and unmet, never to be known by me? |
LeeH,
Whether you are happy or sad, devastated or empowered, is your choice. You can choose to let this situation knock you down or you can choose to move forward. You can feel sorry for yourself or you can embrace the new reality. It really is as simple as you choosing. You are in complete control of how you look at things and how you feel about your life. |
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An experience so obtuse it has to be systematic. I believe national statistics support CB's version... "Hatred" is one synonym for talking about one's experiences and pointing out injustices of law. When a type of discrimination is so prevalent and the law so one-sided towards one party, it does egregious harm to not only one specific parent of a relationship but the children as well. The courts basically force children to grow up without a male father figure being present, and endangers them to the possible dangers of multiple future male suitors. It specifically and intentionally puts them in harms way. How permanent and emotionally scarring can it be when children have no consistency in their lives and nothing dependable from the male perspective to rely upon? How does that effect their development and personality later on? Plus, um, it goes back to that old saying "No taxation without representation". |
What's crow talking about?
Sent via Jedi mind trick. |
When I think back about girls that I've gone out with, I have some really crazy experiences. What really strikes me is that we always end up being friends later, and how profound the effect is of falling into and out of love. You think it's the end of the world until BAM!, you find another one.
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Funny, but cute. |
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There are still some things to work through I guess... |
Leave it a dispassionate hockey player to allow the reduction of life itself to an emoji, I say!
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Here is my take.
Lee benefits from all perspectives: Whether his divorce becomes a knife fight or a reasonable stroll, Crowbob's Letter's From the Resistance are part of the matrix. Again, Lee, you set the tone of this thread with a wonderfully heartfelt post. This entire thread is a testimony to that. |
Being pronoid as opposed to paranoid, I see all things that happen as evidence of their being to my best benefit.
As such, even a simple emoji allows me to regurgitate further my meanderings of a failed life. So I continue with my tale. I'll choose panic. Panic descended upon me once, but briefly. Maybe more than once. But this time, on our way to the beach one long ago summer. In that red truck we all stopped at 7-11. Attired only in her pink and purple swimsuit, my precious daughter escaped that truck whilst I shopped for an unhealthy mix of pop and chips and whatnots. On my return, that truck was empty(!) (The appropriate emoji goes here) Then I heard her unmistakable crying. The first thing I saw, however, were silhouettes of perfectly-spaced, bright as blood and just as red, footprints of a child on the hot blacktop. They were perfectly spaced like bits of bread leading Gretel to the witches lair in the woods. (Two emojis go here) One foot only. The left, I think As it turned out, my daughter and her older brother would not endure the heat inside that truck and took it upon themselves to go sit in the grass under that tree over there. On their way, she stepped on a broken and jagged bottle severing an artery of her ankle to bleed appropriately therefrom. Because the pressure of my hand and the quick tourniquet of towel stopped the flow, the blood quickly returned to my brain and she, two or three proud stitches later, was back to normal. I, however, never did return to that blissful state of profound ignorance and paucity of vigilance I had previously enjoyed on our way to the beach that day. |
I really have got to tend my garden. It can wait. To inspire young parents, beyond our kindly Lee, is the more important task, me thinks.
On this particular and recent day, the 13th of May last, a Friday, I was having some difficulty seeing the road ahead. Panic was still, but barely, contained on that highway that leads deep into enemy territory. Being a Spartan, charging forthwith to Ann Arbor and to a particularly reknowned institution dedicated to the care of Women and Children, was unusual for me. My daughter awaited me there having suggested I also put myself there forthwith ('If you want to' she said) after her learning that an interpretation of a prenatal ultrasound suggested the wombed child she was carrying was dealt a blow. No, a tetralogy of blows to his tiny heart first described by a man by the name of Fallot in the literature of pediatric cardiology. It turned out happily to be a false but very alarming alarm. Nevertheless, the newborn was brought to we few gathered there by the nurse who asked,'who wants to hold him'? In the span of time similar to that it took Muhammad Ali to be in bed between the time he switched off the light but before the room went dark, I leapt. As such, I became the first human in line to hold and embrace and love that dear and healthy child after his parents. Like Science Officer Spock, I will wager with any wolverine, that that child's blood runs green! |
Speaking of gardening which not at all peripherally, involves patience, I will further bore you all with more trite and meaningless drivel.
Patience. Many harvest moons ago, my daughter and I engaged and locked ourselves in a negotiation. Were I to do something for her, she would do something for me in return. Like what, I asked seasoned with skepticism. A few minutes later. She presented but did not give to me small note upon which she had written: I OWE YOU 3HRS OF GARDEN DUTY She dodged my attempt to snatch the paper from her saying, 'Nuh uh uh, you need to do (such and such) first. Which, of course, I did do. At this very moment, believe it or not Fox, I am looking at that precious chit once again magneted to my refrigerator door right where it belongs after her hiding it and me finding it yet again after her last visit, unredeemed. |
Is this still about a divorce?
Sent via Jedi mind trick. |
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Here's the thing. Her Mom smokes like a chimney, has a bad ticker and is 76 y.o. When she passes the ex will get 6 rental properties that generate around $7k a month. I know, easy to live on but she's not satisfied with just that. She's bitter and angry, especially since I have moved on and am living with someone. Oh well, fingers crossed. |
These stories are giving me Cockerpunk disease - you know, when the "M" word gives you a reverse erection.
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Vash, you know by now...All good threads that go long enough get to the same place (by the same people). It'll die now. Hang in there Lee. |
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I married a good man, had wonderful kids, was incredibly happy. I thought I was living this amazing dream come true. But, where my love grew over time, his did not... it became apparent that he was going through the motions, probably for the kids.
No one should be so unhappy in a relationship - I knew I would survive, and I knew we could carry on as friends and make sure our kids were raised in loving homes. I asked him if he wanted out, he looked so relieved.... We made it work. I never got alimony, and almost no support - I made at least what he did, and over time made more. Never asked for more money - saved it all for college... that was tough some days, lots of Goodwill clothes and spaghetti and sold a Porsche - but I made a promise to myself and my kids, I knew he wouldn't be able to help with college, so I made it work. He is still a good man, great dad, he just isn't my best guy anymore. It was a journey I never saw myself taking, but, everyone is happier, I would have been miserable living in a one-sided relationship, it was a rough road to begin with, but when it smoothed out, it had some pretty good sections. |
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