I have
held my tongue
held my breath
held my heart
for way too long.

I just can't keep it in any longer
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
If you are offended by the occasional wirty dord, obscenity, or naked truth please put on your sunglasses.

Wait.

I think you should all put on your sunglasses.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Thursday, October 5, 2017

Harvest Moon


It’s all about perspective, isn’t it?

Less than two weeks after I spent five years, three months, and 12 days clearing my name, the five-alarm fire in my Dad’s apartment complex that began his journey home occurred.

Those five years, three months, and 12 days included a lot of false accusations, false witness, bullying, threatening, violence, property damage, and all of the other stuff that comes with putting oneself at the business end of a violent alcoholic, a dirty cop, and a spurned attorney. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I stood on the courthouse steps, finally vindicated, and called my Dad. 

“Hi Daddy.”

“Hi Baby.”

“Are you sitting down?”

“I’m laying down.”

“I am no longer a double felon.”

Silence

“I’m impressed.  When this whole thing started, I thought there was no way in hell you would ever get out from under all that shit.  But you did.  You did it Baby, and I’m proud of you.  Now go have champagne!”.

Twelve days later, my Dad was evacuated from the balcony of his apartment building.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When I get down on myself for mishandling everything, I remember the perspective that I’d already been through hell and then my Beloved Father passed away.

I don’t want pity or sympathy but I do want others to not take my comportment personally.  I KNOW I’m hard to get along with; I live with it.  I KNOW The Enemy is within because, again, I live with it.  I KNOW I seem heartless when I show no reaction to news of others’ misfortune; however, the reality is that I feel others’ pain so profoundly it immobilizes me.  I KNOW I keep others at a distance; however, the reality is that I have not fully recovered from the brutality of the past.

My point is that it’s not “just” because my Dad passed away that I’m wiped out; it’s the cumulative effect of at least four major life changing events – all of which were traumatic – occurring one right after the other.

Yes, I know most other people have it much worse than I do – especially today – but that’s not my point.  My point is that trauma is trauma and why can’t we exercise just a little bit more patience and compassion with each other rather than being so quick to take offense because someone doesn’t react to us the way we want them to.

I’m speaking to myself as much as I’m speaking to anyone else with this.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Traditionally, the Harvest Moon offers the best light for night-time harvesting.  I have sown seeds of endurance and perseverance with my blood, sweat, tears, and snot all year.  I look forward to being blessed by my harvest, no matter what form it takes.

As God is my witness.


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