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.

 

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.

 

The Sandwich Generation Life

  It has been a rough three weeks.

  For those that came in late - I have been dealing with the demise of a parent. Lots of doctors appointments and hospital visits.  Not a lot of time for writing.

  Actually, not a lot a time for personal development, productiveness or sleep.

  Once quoted as the "sandwich generation", now that I have finished caring for my own children, I am now caring for the aged parents in my life.  This is new. Not a preplanned activity that I envisaged, not an act that either of my parents engaged in - as best I recall. (I'm sure that somebody will come out of the woodwork about this and claim that relative X was cared for by relative Y; but as a I said, not an activity that either of my parents engaged in.)

  And I hope, not an activity that any of my children have to engage in with me.

  Caring for the aged parent in close proximity has you looking at your situation and what you would like your children to do. I do not want to be in a box. Nor do I want my children to take time from their lives to care for an ailing me.

  They will not have to. I will see that they don't. 

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

...so I contintinue to write.

  Google Plus is gone. Another batch of writings lost to technology..

  I write on paper - with a pencil. It's more enduring that a pen. It's more comforting that dipping into an ink well.

  Over the years I have owned numerous writing implements - all have been damaged long after the gift giver has left me. So I continue to use pencil and paper. The log books from the years are numerous.

  The diary to my eldest daughter is the only one which has ceased.

  In another part of my personal life, I am caring for a another, approaching end of life. It is, tiring.

  So I continue to write.

I Always Knew It Was Coming

  There are moments in time, where everything changes. When you know that nothing will ever be the same again. Sometimes, you get real quiet, as it was an unexpected event.

  Sometimes you get real quiet, because you always knew it was coming - and then once it arrives, you immediately recognize it for what it was.

  Several weeks ago, my father reached out to the mother of my children, attempting to get in contact with my daughters. The mother of my daughters said she would pass the message on.

  My father never heard from my daughters. He, too, has become the grandparent affected by parental alienation.

  Yesterday, the mailman arrived and made rounds. In the mail for me, was the birthday card I had sent my eldest daughter, in May of this year. It was marked "no longer at this address".

  The last point of contact for my children has now gone.

  Everything changes now. Nothing will ever be the same again. I got real quiet. I always knew it was coming.

The Wayside

In a few days, I will be celebrating a birthday.

When I was a new Dad, birthdays were events that were planned weeks in advance. Travel, dining, and if required, accommodation. First my eldest, and then later joined by her younger sister, they would be "moments" of togetherness.

And they were only moments. Those togetherness moments went by the wayside once the separation and the divorce began. Years later, although remarried, they are still by the wayside.

Counting On A Miracle

  Earlier this week I received a private message from a person whom knows, how shall I say, my history. They provided me with some information about my eldest daughter. When I went to verify the information, their report was confirmed and the last known connection that I had to my children, was now gone.

  So, once again, in the words of Bruce Springsteen, "I'm counting on a miracle, to come through."

Lost Love

Sailing.

Daughters.

Australia.

Solitude.

Writing.

I Bought A Car

I bought a car.

Not for my wife.
Not because I have a child.
Not because I have a family.
Not because I'm getting a divorce.
Not because I'm crippled by child support.
Not because I'm immigrating.
Not because I'm remarrying.
Not because my daughters need transport.
Not because another car died.
Not because I'm out of paying child support.

I bought a car.

This time, it was for me.

Force Majeure of Parental Alientation

Each week, I look at the bank page where my blog resides and try to decide what stains will grace it.  Mostly, this blog alternates between the development of the writer within me, the injustices orchestrated against fathers, and occasionally, recent events in my personal life.

This week all three managed to combine into a "force majeure" event, a phrase normally associated with a contract where certain circumstances beyond their control make either party unable to fulfill their obligations.

Acts of God, natural disasters, civil war are the big three that most think of. Sometimes it can be the mental grind.

This week I had to take on the State of California and the Commonwealth of Australia as, once again, their errors which are compounded with automatic penalties, were once again identified as inaccurate. The State acknowledges that the error occurred, but claims it has no authority to correct it. At the same time, they report that they are legislated to act on a thirty (30) day response. The Commonwealth of Australia report that they have no recourse when payment is not made, but must continue to act until so resolved.

No one wants to take responsibility, but will proceed regardless rather than redress the error. Sounds like a poor parenting plan. And it is.

Having championed the cause, I have returned home to receive correspondence from my native country addressed to my daughter at her mother house. Apparently, her mother can receive payments for our daughter at that mailing address, but when a gift from me is sent to our daughter, it is marked "return to sender".

It was only in recent years that I found a name for the "force majeure" of my life.  It's called Parental Alienation. And it's taught by the evil mothers to our children, learned from their mother.

Wickedness, repeats history. As done to the mother of our children, so is now done to our children.

One Man's Demons

Demons.

The demons that live inside of all writers, are the Demons which they write about.

Injustice. Infidelity. Loss.

Some pain is arguably viable - the ridges of skin from a burn.

Some pain is arguably invisible - the soul of parents with missing children.

Some fathers write about the loss of their children to foreign forces.

Others write of the loss of their predecessor.

One man's demons, is another chapter of the Major Project.

Not For The Money

The Major Project.

I will have a major book release by the time my life is over.

Not for the money.

Not so I can walk into a book store and see my name on the spine of a series of books.

Not so I can be on television of have a major motion picture based on the book.

But so my children will know just what their Father went through.

February 28

Today's the day the Teddy Bears have their picnic.

Feb 28. An iconic day in history.

A buddy of mine has a birthday.

A woman I once knew has a birthday -  she once sent me a pager that she was ready to settle down. Apparently not.

On Ancestry.com, my grandparents were married today.

Twenty years ago my divorce was finalized.

Thank you, Tori Amos. 

National Screenwriters Day

January 5 is National Screenwriters Day.

One day, my children will be watching and recognize themselves.

And they will sit behind while the credits roll up, just so they know.

Happy 21st Birthday

In Australia, it is November 17, and my youngest child turns 21 today.

It has been 4 years to the day since we last spoke on the phone.

It has been 4 years and a day since her mother said she would never allow her to visit me in the USA.

It is 7 years since her mother violated court orders and moved her 3 states away.

It is 8 years since I last flew back to Australia, and her mother withheld her from me.

It is almost 12 years since I left Australia.

Her 21st birthday marks the end. It is over.

It's too late for my girls, lessons learned:

- Manage your child child support. Make it your second job and ensure you receive credit for everything.
- As bad as it may be, stay close to your children. You cannot immediately rebuke that which is told to your children, from 7811 miles away.
 
Had I known I would lose both my children to their mothers forked tongue, I would not have left to remarry and have the family structure that was missing the first time.

I would have stayed a single, Dad.

My Favorite Photograph

When I was a child, my parents divorced. As a teenager I visited my father at his place of work one time and saw a photograph of my brother and I on his desk. It was an old photograph, taken when we first started school. 

When I asked my father about it he said "It's my favorite photograph."

Earlier this week I was sitting at my own work desk when an employee asked about a photograph of my own daughters. The phrase rolled off my tongue.

"It's my favorite photograph."

And in a moment of revelation, I learned yet another thing about my own parents divorce. My father's favorite photograph was just that, because,  that is all that he had.

The young girl in my photograph will be 21 in about three weeks. It's been four years since we spoke on the phone, and nine years since I have seen her. I have no idea who she is now.

With reverence to Ringo Starr, now, all I've got is a photograph.

Some Days Are Harder Than Others

Some days are harder than others.

The writers copy of Chicken Soup for the Soul: Angels and Miracles arrived today.

I cannot even look at the cover without crying.

My first copies usually go out to community organizations, libraries, and my Alma Mater Villanova College.

Not this time. They'll be going out to those who carried me through the story.

Anthony, Dave Parker, Judith, and one other.

One copy will be held back for his children,  to read of their father impact.

One copy will be held back for my children, to read of the impact of their father.

Vale Mark Goodwin.

My Friend, My Partner.

In Australia, the last Thursday in September is National Police Remembrance Day.

My personal list is...heart breaking.

Tony Greaves.
Lenny Hoooper.
Dave Shean.
Perry Irwin,

and my friend, my partner, Mark Goodwin.








His story comes out in the Chicken Soup for the Soul Series, Angels and Miracles, on 2 November 2016.