Sunday, August 18, 2019

When Is A Writer, Not Writing?



  When is a writer, not writing?

  When they're running around after other people?

  When they are transporting patients who fail to follow their doctors orders? When they provide medication and instructions to patients, that ignore doctor's orders because it's an inconvenience for them - but they still require the care that they don;t think they need?

  When your parents are elderly and they start to revert to toddlers, unable to recall the conversation that they had that same morning with their health care provider about what they can and should not do when afflicted with an additional medical issue?

  And then go about and do their own interpretation of the same advice, skipping medication in order to attend social events while afflicted with a transmittable - but non contagious, condition.

  It's almost like knocking yourself out with a ball point hammer.

  For a writer, it's material for when they come back to the art.

  For a child, it's a glimpse of what the future may hold.


Saturday, August 3, 2019

When is a Writer, Writting?






When is a writer, writing?

When they're not publishing?

When they're not writing?

For several weeks - actually since March - I no longer reside at my desk. My writing is done on a television dinner tray, pen and paper. At the weekends, if I'm lucky, I transfer the writings over to laptop. It is a duplicate process, however, it is the only writing process that I have now.

I am writing in the car, in snippets of time.

Maybe one day I'll have a desk again, to write at.

Monday, July 22, 2019

...and we're back








...and we're back.

In the midst of the chaos and medicals, someone locked themselves out of their account.

I had to wait until I returned to California to get to the email address that I specifically use for lock outs.

Tuesday, July 9, 2019

In Memorium






  The day could not pass without reflection.

  This day will always be linked to another, which will haunt my horrors.

  In Memorium, Mark Lawrence Goodwin, Constable of Police.


There, but for the stroke of a pen, go I.

Mark left behind two children, Megan and Alyse, ages 2 and 6 weeks.

Twenty five year later after that night, I would finally write of him.

I will hold copies of the book for his children, should they ever ask.  


Sunday, June 30, 2019

I Write






  I write.

  I write about my children, about Parental Alienation, about the unfairness in the post divorce world towards Fathers. But until this week, I have never written about my ex wife.

  Not so much of my ex wife, but more of her actions. The actions that she learned as a child from her mother, which she replicated to our children. Twenty two years after our divorce, I look at what my ex wife has done to our children, and see the similarities that her mother did to her.

  The cycle has to stop.

  And it does with me.

  I write.

  I write about my children, about Parental Alienation, about the unfairness in the post divorce world towards Fathers. But until this week, I have never written about my ex wife's parental alienation of our children.

Saturday, June 22, 2019

All of Them






  Some time ago, probably months, I had a Dear Old Friend write of their current relationship.

  "They won't leave me."

  The commentary hit home, because, they All leave me.

  All, are the important women in my life.

  Mother. Wife. Daughters. Girlfriend.

  In my Dear Old Friend's relationship, their Partner wont be leaving them. Good for them. They deserve second (or third) opportunities.

  For readers, I have been caring for my Mother in Law for several months. Another important woman in my life about to leave me. Once again, powerless to stop it.

  My Dear Old Friends comment was right. Might not apply to me, but for them, it's good enough.

 

Saturday, June 8, 2019

Not The Other Way Round





  There is nothing That I am enjoying, about caring for an elderly parent.

  There is little that I am, personally, accomplishing, either writing, or any in other important facet of my life.

  However, in despair, there suddenly appears a signal.

  A discussion that was had several months ago, returned to me laying in bed earlier this week. A possible second major project, broken into three parts, covering three parts of the State of California.

  I hate to propose any matter at this time, the time required for me to care for the elderly parent has to be fitted around the writing, not the other way round.