And the Walls Came Tumbling Down

I am ashamed to admit that I have felt something akin to hatred for my Son.  I hated him because my love for him pained me more than anything I have ever experienced. Then again, I may have missed out on another pain or sorrow but I kind of doubt it. I have wondered if fathers were excluded from these feelings but I know in my own case I suspect that my father felt the same way about me when I scared him half to death with my reckless antics. I have willfully demanded answers to questions which may be left best to the mind of god however I was clued in to a directive which stated to attempt to achieve something called present moment awareness. Today I wonder... I guess that when it's said what I feel regret over is that I may have tried to squander my creativity due to the fact that I was ungrateful for the status quo of my life. The honest and shameful truth is that I can no longer function in this reality without a very strong man on my side. There are f...

The Yard Sale Natzie That’s what everyone started calling my Aunt Nancy.  Her yard sales are so epic that the house was notated on google maps because of it.  They are Bartlett’s like the pear.  Her husband has a bunch of brothers and sisters. Rhythm method. They are guilty as charged. One of them happens to be my stepfather.  He’s been really good to me.        My Aunt is something to behold at these yard sales.  She stomps around in a blur and she runs the whole thing.  All the family come from miles around twice a year with their stuff.  They set up a circus and usually they have enough stuff there to overfill a tractor trailer.  I really like watching Nancy.  She cracks the whip.  Any questions, “Ask Nancy.”  She really enjoys it and it is was really a trip being there.        About ten years ago I had a cool mission .  A dear friend of mine was being sw...

I decided to visit Catholic Mass.   My mother was pissed off.   She said, “We don’t want to go to church with you. You're Manic.” I replied, “It’s a public place.” I drove my familiar there. Scarlett. She’s a turbo VW and she has no business in these parts but I coax her.   I was cursing myself to hell the whole way there.   “They can’t keep me out!!!!!!” So I went.  I was a little nervous.  I showed up in a dress cause people treat you better.  At least around here.  Go figure.  I wandered.  I hoped I wouldn't run into my mother and I didn’t.  I spotted some lady who was cool with me so I plopped it down.  She was all good and sweet and compassionate to my plight.  My mission, in other words.   So there I sat, Dazed and Confused. I looked on at the dead savior and wondered just what in the blue fuck I was doing there. Then I decided I had to play along. I got myself into it, after all....

Deer run these woods and that means that they run the dark roads.  I was a waitress once and I ran the dark roads fifty miles twice and sometimes three times in a week for over two years.  I never hit one but once I came very close to my death.  I was getting it done at close to sixty mph and I am woe to admit that it may have been closer to seventy.  Another car was rarely seen but one night I crossed paths with another and a deer at the very same time.   The deer crossed between our oncoming in a split second.  She was not small and she must have been scared out of her wits.  I have no idea how fast they can run but she had to be at her limit.  The three of us just skirted each other.  It was so quick that I didn’t have time to feel how close I had come to disaster but not so quick that I didn’t think about it.   That would have been it for the three of us.  Imagine two cars passing each other at those speeds and stri...

I’ve moved around quite a bit and I don’t have very many things from my childhood. I’ve managed to hold onto a couple of my favorite books. One of them is called The Discontented Pony. It’s a story about Merrylegs who was a little pony who was unhappy with her life in the pasture. She wanted to be a painted pony on the carousel at the fair so she escaped. What she found out was that all that is painted and shiny is not always as magical as it may appear. I read that book over and over again but my little mind couldn’t seem to figure out what the word ‘discontented’ meant. I hated, feared, and loved that book. My granddaddy was a tobacco farmer in North Carolina and I worshipped that man. He loved me like the sun rose and set on my head. We’d walk through his cow pasture together and he’d talk to me. I didn’t like the cow pies and I was always worried about stepping on them. He laughed at me and he said that a man can’t walk a straight line through the pasture without ge...