The embarrassing tale of bicycling across Europe was that I’d sent her cards and written letters of our adventures yet when I asked if she’d kept them she said she’d thrown them out but she had a carbon copy of the letters she wrote to me. Mostly about her garden and conversations with the neighbours. I would love to have them today because I expect I’ve thrown them out. Yet that time speaks a lot about my mother and her relationship to me. My brother was my father’s son, always helping him and I was my mother’s son, She couldn’t have anymore children after me and I suspect she wanted a girl. Now when I left home she was very depressed. My father told me that she was. My brother had gone to university. I’d married and she’d worn a white brocaded dresss to the wedding. It was odd. But then my mother in law was flirting with my father and said he was a very handsome man and it was a shame that my mother didn’t look after herself. Mom had cut her hair short and gained weight but young she’d been a beauty. My mother in law had this sickness of flirting with men and yet rejecting them . It was a power trip of some kind and even enticed her best friends husband to her bed only to reject him. She demonstrated to the women she could have their husbands but gave them back to them, slightly used. The men weren’t relevant to the ‘game’. My mother said she didn’t ‘like the woman, she was always trying to steal my husband’. Dad was flattered, Mom was furious and jealousy. My mother in law had divorced the father of her younger children while having my ex with another man in Europe, a married man apparently. But she’d been through the war escaping Russia and Germany and was a beautiful girl so one must imagine it was a terrible time. She spoke about the hunger. So who can judge. She loved her children and didn’t particularly like men except to seduce and reject. She was an outcast in her community no doubt because the wives didn’t want to play her game. She claimed her husband was to disciplining of the children. His colleagues described him as a great doctor who would have gone to the top if he hadn’t married the refugee woman with another man’s child. After the divorce he went to the country and served out his years as a country doctor . His son , my friend, said when he visitted he just wanted to go fishing and that he didn’t think much of his father. He was rural. The gifted son of a single mother who dotted on her boy would become an alcoholic and have a mean streak that came out when he was drinking. His adolescent antics paled as he grew older and though a once gifted artist and creative rebel he because one of the flying boys until at last he met a proverbial ‘good woman’ who stayed with him. I loved that we called each other ‘brother outlaws’. Boys with their mothers. We love them but we can see their quirks. He hated that his mother played her dominance game and that his older sister lied. Growing up a middle child with older and younger sister he was wise, the family so artistic and showing such genius.
My mother was a baptist and the church was where she and her two sisters spent all theirs social times outside of school and doing chores for their thoroughly adored mother. My mother mother lived her last years with her as did my ex wife’s grandmother , My girlfriend, a grandmother, has a daughter who was rebellious as my ex wife, My girlfriend divorced and her daughter and she have an unsteady relationship, so much love but such uncertainty.
My mother and father were hurt when I left home, coming back and leaving again. They had expectations. Rockwell did us all a disservice, My parents felt hurt and betrayed by me and never trusted me not to do that again. Years laster when I was a doctor’s doctor, a solid citizen really, who’d saved my father’s life on two occasions and served the family well, I was still considered by them to be the adolescent rebel. I remember when there was a dinner in my honor and my praises were being sung I over heard my parents say ‘you don’t know him as we do’ in response to ‘you must be so proud to have such a successful son”.
My parents were not one for compliments, They believed it spoiled the child, “We didn’t want to add anything to your ego” my mother once said, Ironically for all her piousness she suffered spiritual pride and was unaware, so judgmental of the neighbours and critical of Christians not of her church. They were tribal. Years later I met other church ladies with the same judgementalness despite ‘judgement is the lord’s’ being the essence of Christianity.
I tend to avoid everyone. I don’t so much judge others but rather how I feel with them, There are so few I feel safe with and even them I doubt. Such betrayal in my life. The lies and betrayal of my ex and my psychiatrist and mentors. I pray for them and forgive but I’m just as judgemental saying they are ‘sick’ rather than declaring them ‘evil’ . There’s that thing about the ‘politics of friendships’ and the ‘political of faith’. I look at capital cities and think they are full of people who never left junior high school. The endeavours of war and business and Hollywood are vast political affairs with lots of people and lots of gossip. I imagine that Epstein’s list is the key to the membership in that club.
I’m loosely connected with others and am even tenuous with family. I’m skittering like my dog afraid to be close, feeling I’ve worked so hard, so very hard and repeatedly lost my house and heart and been blamed not for the right or wrong of a thing but rather by tribal allegiances and Marxist hegemonies. I was just trying to do the next right thing and not even awar there was a war.
I loved Leonard Cohen’s “There is a war.” I remember feeling smothered in my relationship with an ex when she painted the walls pink and asked me to take my pictures and put them in the basement. She never thought of herself as aggressive or proud or bullying but I eventually was taken for granted and she and her mother and family closed ranks and expected me to ‘serve’ the princess. I’ve done the role of husband and wife in marriage. I’ve worked serveral jobs and watched them take the money and serve themselves. I thought we’d have a child. Even when my wife was rich we only used my money and later she’d use her wealth to buy lawyers to destroy me. No wonder self pity was my go to place and yet I learned in therapy and in AA that I was accepting of abuse. I cooked the meal and expected her to do the dishes. That was the way I was raised. But she just took. I created takers because I never raged or argued or set boundaries. I just served and paid and watched them play princess. In the end I paid for my friends and felt un loved and alone.
Codependent’s anonymous. Melody Beatie described me. I attracted parasites who insisted on their being the victim but thought themselves clever to be with me having a friend like me who paid for everything. I laugh remembering paying for the exwives who were doctors and how the money they made went only in part to the rent while all else I paid. It was okay knowing they could take care of themselves and I had this issue of not wanting to be indebted to anyone. It had to do with freedom and allegiance. I didn’t want to owe anyone and nearly died paying off the debts my last ex ran up .
Now where is the intelligence I savor, the holy elixir. What does the masochist say to the sadist? Hit Me. What does the sadist say to the masochist? No.
I will get my reward in heaven butt I also get the reward of knowing that I have carried my share. I watch these families serving their genes and their future and I’ve helped strangers and enemies. I’m that kind of crazy. Too often I come across others who have a reciprocity arrangement within their tribe or in their relationships. She stop cooking when their partner stops doing dishes. They stop being nice and have temper tantrums and major pouts and show everyone they can’t be walked on
My friends say, ‘get down off the cross we can use the wood’.
My dog is a little disgruntled taker, part cat if you ask me. Just a good looking little guy who walks on my face and lies on the table and growls at me if I don’t give him the first cut of my steak. It’s no one else’s problem and I imagine going to he grave with an inferiority complex and low self esteem feeling I must buy my friends and being denied anything but living in a pink room. Spiritual pride and lack of I statements. Years of self care and study like years of showers and being among the unwashed. I’m self centred as the next but am afraid going forward. I feel unprepared. Those who were selfish and cared for themselves and prepared for their old age and death and lived with others who were preparing too weren’t betrayed by a government creating inflations and constantly taxing more and more as I fear that my future will have increasingly vulnerability. I am anxious that older I’m not able to work three jobs I needed to to care for the slackers around me selfish and insisting that they suffered more and then didn’t have the energy and yet they got fat and cared for themselves and their tribe.
I’ve never focussed on money. My family did and does. I just focused on the good I would do and it seemed the money followed though I had to give blood to pay for medical school and in the end was fucked by my professor. I remember my wife said ‘no women likes oral sex , It’s dirty’. Now here I was spending hours a night performing cunninglingus and listening to women and friends all day singing the praise of oral Sex and deep throat was all the rage. She considered sperm ‘icky’ and never had children. She was germophobic and I presumed that since I was performing oral sex all the time, the only way she could ‘come’, then I was dirty but then I realized that no. “Men were dirty’ and ‘women were clean’. So she was trapped in some pre adolescent fantasy and I was a damaged adult.
I always have felt that sex was rationed by women. That I was denied sex as a way to keep the price of diamonds high. It was all economics. Women were better masturbated and had affairs all the time so they didn’t need their men. Besides given the choice between orgasm and food they’d rather feast. So many fat people stuffing their emotions with food or skinny people stuffing their emotions with drugs and alcohol pointing fingers at others.
I m up for another coffee. I arrive here and it’s always the ‘spirituality of imperfectio’. The other is always God. In Job the devil works with God and all is one so the devil is God and the only question is love or fear. I love her. But she scares me.
Mother and child. It’s always mother abd child and only when there’s a child does the princess become the queen. Single mothers have always believed in tyranny. No other Gods but them. The divorce rate is now 50 % and only bad marriages are lasting. The courts prey on marriage and the judges and lawyers are rich by destroying families . And they still haven’t released Epstein’s list,
I’ve been a perpetual parent ironically caring for everyone, a caregiver, the solo sailor who is survivalist in the woods. I remember that day I realized that if I was hurt no one would or could care for me. I was always out with others who were arrogant and thought they could lead and were great critics but simply couldn’t.
Yet here we are old and have managed to get this far and will muddle along somehow.
Gratitude is the answer. My mother and father were great lovers. They were best friends, confidants , raised a family, managed a major business and gardened together.
My dad was Air Force. Ive enjoyed the men who served.
It’s been a blessed life, I’ve been blessed to know all the characters.
Personally I seen to always be playing whack a moll with my character defects. When I get lust settled down, then gluttony pokes up it’s head, I whack that and envy appears , then anger, then jeallousy and back to pride, it’s impossible. So I pray to God that he remove my character defect.
Today sitting in the dog park while Madigan sniffed other dog’s shit and piss I contemplated that there was definitely a conscious creator. I woke this morning to this creation and I couldn’t make the birds fly or levitate a table, In the present I am with God. God within God will come again, My life is a dialogue with God. Thank you God
Thank you God for my mother. Thank you God for my father. Thank you god for brother. Thank you God for my aunts and uncles and cousins and nephews, Thank you God for my in-laws. Thank you God for my ex wives. Thank you God for the dogs. Thank you God for the cats. Thank you God for the dish. Thank you God for the friends. Thank you God for the acquaintances. Thank you God for the teachers. Thank you God for knowledge. Thank you God for food and shelter. Thank you God for Maslow’s Hiearchy of Needs. Thank you God for Erick Erickson’ developmental stages. Thank you God for Piaget. Thank you God for Neuro science. Thank you God for chemistry and physics. Thank you god for history and pre history and politics and psychology and sociology, Thank you God for Food and Shelterr. Thank you God for my ATV Thank you God for this camper, the electricity and water and sewarge dispoasdal and garbage disposal. Thank you for coffee. Be with Madigan and me today keeping us safe. Watch over our friends and family and keep them well. Thank you Jesus.
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