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Wednesday, November 26, 2008

The end of Summer's promise...

I was a Father. Again.

Enormous responsibility.

I had yet to hear of the phrase, "If you are ungrateful for your gifts, they will be taken from you."

But I would.

It was the end of summer and I was the proud and scared shitless Father of twin girls. Little angels to be sure. My faith was stronger then.

As I write this, these two are in college, and I wade through a small crisis of faith while paying every spare penny to child support. It doesn't amount to much, but I keep plugging.
For three grown kids. Don't ask.

My bad.

Anyway, so here we are entering the 'holiday season.' Shite.

Thanksgiving, more so than Christmas-for some ironic reason tended to be more violent within my family.
Growing up someone would be punched and someones wife would cry and insults flew like hot giblets. I remember there was Scotch. (The pre-recovery as a family period...more 'issues' per room than waiting for the Dr.)
I had been elected Goal tender for my Dad's personal mental hockey onslaught, so it always had a warm place in my heart as a 'special' time of year.

And that was just on the way to dinner. Dad, driving with one hand and punching me in the teeth with the other, blood in my Peter Frampton hair.

The army seemed like the easier, softer way; so one Thanksgiving I asked him to sign the enlistment papers. I would leave for basic the first of January. A tour in Germany. I could graduate in the army. And don't forget College.

My Dad signed without hesitation. I had him at "I want to join..."


Geoffrey said...

It is Thanksgiving morning. I am working today. We have 900 reservations. I feel I am screwed. Happy Holiday to all...

kathleenmaher said...

If you're doing all you can to pay child support, kudos--no bad.
If you're Irish and sober, more kudos..
I'm Irish plus a little German and could never drink without getting a headache.
But Thanksgiving when I was growing up was a family riot. My parents were so anxious about getting the big meal on the table, no kids were allowed in the kitchen until it was time to clean up. What should we do in the meantime? What if we were hungry after nine am Mass?
In the garage there was cold beer. All we wanted, my parents said. It would fill us up. One of my sisters and I always spent the day at the movies.
But my siblings who helped themselves to the cold ones and watched TV? They're still trying to get sober. Ya gotta love traditions!
Oh, and Geoffrey, Happy Thanksgiving! That is, be grateful to yourself and who are: you've done good, coming up from down low!

Geoffrey Hill said...

I was right, a day much like the British Navy, filled with rum and buggery. (Other peoples...)Glad that's over.

My new disclaimer...yeah I know.

Okay, the old disclaimer was tired. The ideas were outdated and keeping me stuck in a place I don't want to be now for something more refreshing.

I have recently changed my views regarding women. Seems I had some issues with the fairer sex due to past pain and self- centered fear. (Yes...duh applies.)

I'm done with that.

Being in recovery has helped me change my entire life, perceptions and attitudes. I cannot change my history but I can change my today and my future.

I recently realized that the women I know in recovery are some of the strongest, bravest, most gentle and kind teachers I have ever had. You exemplify integrity and spiritual growth, and I hope you know who you are.

Some may know of my past marital and relationship history and been a participant in them as well. It's past and that's where it the past.

I own my part in those failures but claim no more responsibility in any misery you may be experiencing. I am sorry, but it's time to get off the cross. We need the wood.

Thank you all...