My Dad would have been 66 today. It’s been a tough few days leading up to this. The emotions snuck up on me. I didn’t expect it to be like this. At night I’ve been sitting on our back deck looking at the stars waiting for him to show himself. Sometimes I play his music. I don’t always handle that too well.
I took Gavin fishing this past weekend. He met an adorable little girl who was bird watching with her mother. Within minutes they were talking and it didn’t take long before Gavin announced to them that his Grandfather died. My father was amazing with Gavin. Which, for me, was healing to see. When I was Gavin’s age my father wasn’t part of our family unit.
Thanks everyone, for the digital support and friendship. I consider of number of you friends. Even if only through these online channels, you are great people. I’m thankful for that and I’m thankful for WP. One of the bright spots for me (concerning the writing world) was Tara and her accepting a short story of mine into a wonderful horror anthology that she edited and published. Tara, I appreciate you. I still can’t find the motivation to submit any work and you were able to get that unstuck. I know I can ‘get there’ again, but I guess not yet.
So, I think I’ll take myself fishing today and see if I can find Dad.
I look back at my childhood and pull the good from the not good. There was plenty of both. Somehow I’ve become a success in life. To me, happiness is success. But to much of society, prosperity is the measure worth looking at. I wish it wasn’t like this. Reading a book outside with the sun touching the pages while listening to Spring-time birds, all while thinking nothing other than the book and the sun and the birds, that is a measure I use to gage my happiness.
Yet, somehow, even with my bad portions of my childhood, I am a success on other levels as well. I am a father. A husband. A business owner. A college graduate. I have been elected President and owner of a new company set to explode. We are building a new building in a city which contains Maine’s second largest population. I picked the city. It’s diverse. I like diversity. My company will bring new jobs to this city. As I told the city officials, my goal is to enhance the community we enter. I will do exactly that. Our store will open later this summer.
I bring these points up because, based on only my writing, it’s possible for someone to assume that I am hobbled in a dark hole spinning around in circles. That isn’t the case. It’s simply easy for me to remember the bad and to write about the bad. Just as easily as it is for me to write about morning coffee.
When I was a teenager I wanted to be a writer who lived in Maine. At that point I lived in Massachusetts. I’ve lived in a few different states, however, I am now a writer who lives in Maine. I always wanted to be a father and husband. And while sitting in a jail cell in my early twenties, I knew I’d be a loving father and husband. My will was never broken nor in question.
My childhood trauma does not define me. I use it as motivation. And through my freedom of expression that motivation lives nearly in tangible forms. I set my goals long ago and now I’m setting new goals to will into being.
I can’t wait to see what the next ten years will bring. I am blessed. I am thankful. And please keep in mind, I may write about some awful situations, some of the darkest of places, and of thoughts no one wishes upon another- keep in mind that I am fine. More than fine. It’s important the bad is not forgotten with my abundance of good in the now. Much like the photo below. Taken a month before my father’s passing. I knew he was dying. I was on a bender, I look beat up, tired, real. I remember taking the photo and staring at it, taking in all of its reality. I know I don’t look my best, but I feel the thoughts that I had during the moment, simply by viewing the photo. This game of life is something to cherish. All of it.
I think I’ll take a drive. The sky looks good today. Oh! I was able to make a muscle with my left bicep for the first time since the injury. Fun stuff! I ran into my wife’s office to show her my muscle. Yea. I’m like that. A bit of a child sometimes. But, I do it with flair so it’s all good! Seriously though, it was a big moment. Progress is good. Anyway, I hope everyone is having some form of fun. And if not, I invite you to create a form of fun. Even if you’re grumpy.
Gotta go drive, bye~!
I know this is a random post. I have a bunch of energy and simply wanted to say howdy to everyone 🙂
It’s the simple oddities, the altered and possibly even strange, that I enjoy most. Is this the road less traveled that Frost wrote of so long ago? Then again, long in who’s mind? That partial-swamp, the pathway leading deep into the woods, was itself before the words were written. And how strange for me to think those saplings are the new growth; two of which are already bent at the knees forever bowing to the less disadvantaged.
Held back massively in 2020. Be prepared. I plan to post as often as I feel on this blog in 2021. However, and whenever I like. I posted 120 less times in 2020 than in 2019. This blog is the reason I’ve been published. This blog was, and is, my outlet. This blog helps carry my soul on stairs most wouldn’t care to walk on. Had a baseball bat swung at my head through my car window, glass everywhere, spit it out onto the pavement; watched the largest moon I’ve ever seen near a wide and deep river, where years before, Hell was shown to me, in front of accidental viewers: how can anyone steep in such lowness and enjoy their lust. Maybe a walk down memory lane will help clear the view. Maybe I’ll drive to the very spot, drag a few with me, and see what’s to see. The moon walks on land when we let it. Saw a dark sky asking for a view the other night.
Rumors and speculation surround the possible inhabitants of Blackout Island, located just a few miles off the coast. Conspiracy theories abound while social media leaks surface about government experiments gone wrong. Certainly something or someone must live there, for haven’t we all seen the shaky home videos of the occasional wisp of smoke or recordings of eerie sounds carrying far across the water on a calm summer night? Something wicked has been let loose within its depths… And it’s time for the truth to be revealed.
Featuring seven dark stories by L.E. Aleman, Darren Diarmuid, Lauren Rylant, A.P. Christopher, -M. Taggart, M. Ennenbach, and Joann L. Berg.