is more than enough
is more than enough
“I’m one of the fastest moving persons ever.”
Gavin and I want to say, Merry Christmas!
lol I hope you enjoy his laser eyes 🤣
Megan made this memory.
She took the photo.
It’s our anniversary.
I’ll be framing this.
Two days from now will mark the first anniversary of my father’s death.
He battled cancer. We were told it was treatable. We were told he would live a long life.
It was too late when they discovered that he had a very rare version of this very treatable cancer.
It’s possible I may write and publish a few blog posts, over the next few days, that may be difficult to read for some.
I hope you understand.
My father lost custody and the right to see my brother and I when we were young. Later in life
my father and I became very close.
I’m lucky, thankful, and blessed to be his father.
The previous post contained the subject line of, “Anyone?”
The image was of Gavin about to turn a corner on an amusement
‘ride’ for kids. Gavin loved it. In general, it was an obstacle course.
We pulled Gavin from school this week and brought him to our
State’s largest fair. He pet all types of animals, even a MASSIVE horse
that seemed to have taken a liking to Gavin.
I’m rather sure his one day at the fair gave him enough mental stimulation
to overcome the one lost day at school ;).
ps, thanks for hanging out!
Especially to all of you out there who wonder if you’re enough.
You are. You always were.
The amount of courage, instinct, soul and love that go into being a mother is something I can only witness, but not truly understand. I’ll continue to watch and to listen well; especially during those moments when my attempts have failed.
Megan, Gavin is so very lucky to have you as his mother.
Driving to the pub, I knew I wouldn’t
like sitting at the bar as much as if
my family was with me, but I drove
anyway and felt the unease of knowing
how I’d already feel while at the bar
with my book. I parked and looked
at the entrance to the pub. It wasn’t
much to look at but I looked anyway.
Inside, it was much as I expected it to be.
The bartender asked where my family was.
I told her that they ditched me. They didn’t
want to come to the pub, this time.
She smiled and said that our son was handsome
and that he was always polite.
I like that things don’t feel as good when I’m
at the pub without my family.
I ordered a Guinness and read from my book,
Growth of the Soil.
Growth of the Soil, written by Knut Hamsun.
And he had stayed while the rain came down; he had stayed while she sat alone, only a blanket provided comfort, and he looking out the window at the rain thinking about how he might need to leave or to maybe not be in the same place as her, anymore, and the rain came and nothing mattered about any of it other than the thinking of what to do and the thinking of what to do meant something needed to be done.
I came out of that surgery like a sling shot! Wide awake and wanting all the crackers they could bring me. “Would you like water or ginger ale?”
“Both.” I sat up and was ready to run. I could have easily driven home. Going under isn’t always fun. Thoughts creep in. Are these the last faces I’ll see? I don’t want to leave my family over an arm. Alone. Covid regulations.
They gave me a block in my neck which has paralyzed my left arm. I feel like Wesley in The Princess Bride. I can wiggle my fingers.
This is fun though! I enjoy new scars and love new mornings.