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.

Happy Birthday Chickybabe

  Happy birthday Chickybabe.

  Today, my eldest daughter, turns 30.

  When I was 30, I was already separated, on the cusp of divorce, with two daughters I cared for more than...well, more than my own relationships and career. I had already won two sailing titles and the third would come the following year, but it was the girls that were my greatest achievement.

  I had also isolated one of my parents from my daughters when they were unable to follow through on the manner in which their mother and I had wanted the girls to be brought up. I would later isolate the other parent, my Father, however, he would see the error of his ways and that would be repaired.

  As expected, my Father was a better man than me. I have been isolated from the girls and it has not been repaired.

  I taught my daughters not to allow evil in to their lives, and to keep it at bay. I never envisaged that I would be the evil they keep at bay. But, unlike where I made my own choice, their choice has been influenced by their mother, and their grandmother.  Two people whom were unable to follow through in the manner in which their mother and I wanted the girls to be brought up. Being a little over 7000 miles away and unable to counter any, and all, evils by these people, I was always playing from behind.

  With no voice to counter them, the girls unknowingly succumbed to their evil.

  It is too late for my girls.

  The days are long and the years go by fast.

  My eldest is 30 today. I have been out of her life more than I have been in it.

  Happy birthday Chickybabe. I never left you.

Easter Sunday Parental Alienation

  It is the early hours of Easter Sunday morning. The sun has just risen, the light is still soft across the county, and I am working on a feature article dealing with Parental Alienation.

  While not a "holiday" in the United States, Easter is till celebrated as a time of families coming together. Some Fathers will not see their children, not through choice, but through the circumstances dictated to them by others - mostly the narcissist mother.

  The irony of Parental Alienation is that the Father was good enough to be there, through the birth, through the years, and it is only because of the divorce or separation that they "suddenly" become unfit, subject to courts and ridicule. Most will assume Father roles in other families where there is no issue - there only ever seems to be an issue perpetrated by the mother of his children.

  Much like I did with my own parents marriage, eventually, the child will discover that not all events as told by their alienating parent are true, complete, or concise.

  By which time, both the child and the alienated parent have already lost.

 

A Second Gut Wrenching Week

  A second gut wrenching week.

  How many boys have been potentially interfered with, when you discover that one boy has been interfered with?

  Ten? Fifty?

  Five hundred.

  Further news from my High School is that potentially 500 boys have been inappropriately dealt with. My graduating class was 104.

  It is a a sudden heartache to learn that my classmates, I was not aware, or did not see, acts being performed.

  I am searching within myself for the answer to "did I let them down?" 




 

To Get The Message

  Another Saturday night at home.

  Again.

  My eye is sore. My foot is bleeding from a fall. My glasses are bent.

  Life is (almost) good.

  These are the challenges that age brings to writers.

  Some people learn the first time. Others, need to loose everything two...maybe three times, to get the message. 

Thank You, First Fans

  First Fans will be aware that the month of January has not been...favorable. Aside from the surgery, sleep has been hard to come by with the discomfort. When conjoined with Dad's health, it has not been a glamour start to the year.

  February does not appear to hold much in the way of glamour either, as the follow ups to the vision and surgery proceed.

  Here's hoping that these visionary issues can be resolved in a timely manner so I can get back to the writing and publication.

  For the First Fans, thank you. 

Eye Will See You

Friends, Family and Followers,

  The last 45 stitches have been removed and the results are:

 - I get to keep my eye sight.
 - I do not need reconstructive surgery.

  A legacy of the Australian lifestyle, I am grateful to Suzi for vigilance of "the small dot" on my face, and to daughter Jillian, who while I was away at dad's, was the voice of reason to her mother when the prognosis came.

  For the Limelifers, starting One Drop Wonder means "eye will see you" in Denver

Damaged Goods

  The First Fans are aware that, the past Christmas and New Year I was...damaged goods. A lack of sight following surgery inhibited my reading, and my writing. The damage caused by a childhood is now starting to catch up with the adult me.

  Rest assure, that as of today, with the partial return of sight, the road to recovery is improving.

  Still damaged goods, with a slight repair.

  Welcome to XXMVIII.