'Human Relations'

It is easy to sit back in our comfy chairs and couches and presume that we know the sum total of existence.  It is easy to sit on the internet and alternatively believe and doubt everything that we see and hear regarding news, opinions, current events, people, co-workers, economics, politics, etc etc.

The truth of the matter, is like a certain fictional character, You Know Nothing!  None of us really do, when get right down to it.  You don't know the sum total of a person's life, experiences, knowledge, and feelings...so why behave as if you do. You'd right be offended if someone did it to you, so why do it to....EVERYONE else?

It's easy to say "They're taking our guns!", then sit back and say that the guns were never taken because "We told them so!".  It's easy to make judgments about a person and feel justified when that person does not address your "concerns", usually because they may be so base and immature as to not warrant a response.

One may say "They're taking away my heritage!" over a piece of cloth, when at the same time we say "I don't want to press 1 for English when I may a phone call!".  We believe some politician on the internet or TV when they say that the government is taking away freedoms...when that same person IS part of that same government.  It's easy to sit back and say 'Jade Helm is taking over!', want a laugh....go check out a few military pages on Facebook that are making fun of the conspiracies.  And don't get me started on the Bible thumpers of all varieties (Militant Atheists, I'm looking at you, too....you folks thump the badly interpreted King James worse than a Jehovah's Witness.)

It's essentially that our collective common sense has been UA (Unauthorized Absence) for decades now.  Right along with our common decency.  It's not "Black lives matter" or "Gay rights"....it's "Human lives matter" and "Human Rights"...we're all human, ffs.  White, black, red, yellow, gay, straight, in the middle, confused, purple polka dotted....seriously.  Get over the labels and definitions, even the ones we impose on ourselves.

Here's another clue:  Most people vacillate between being Conservative and Liberal and exist in the gray areas in between overall.  Personally speaking, I tend to be Conservative in areas of "family values" and overall government policy, but Liberal when it comes to Human Rights and gun rights.  I'm also a Southerner by birth and raising that despises the Confederate flag, what it stood for, and all the people that put it everywhere and use it as a safety blankie the same way my son uses his Blue's Clues blanket.

It is easy to be this way when it's convenient...when it doesn't matter.  We, as a society, refuse to give anyone the benefit of the doubt when at the same time, we DEMAND that same thing.  We WANT someone to think the best of us as a people, whereas at the same time, we think, believe, and expect the worst out of everyone else.

Example:  Starting a new job, perhaps the new guy that seems to know his stuff and shares what he knows is trying to benefit you...not threaten your position or be a know it all.  Perhaps that girl standing off in the corner not saying much isn't a 'creeper', maybe she just doesn't know what to say or how to act.

Overall, we're too damn busy pointing fingers and not busy enough understanding that all we have in this life is how we treat our family and each other.  It's easy in this "Modern", "Evolved" age...Post 9-11, where we are scared of the stranger around the corner because it's put in our face when, in truth, psychotics of all varieties have existed as long as there have been humans...it's nothing new.  Just ask London how it's like to get randomly bombed the shit out of...the difference?  Well, they banded together instead of nearly turning on each other.

We're all human beings on this damn rock, ad we all have the same choice:  We can make life easier for each other and our children, our children's children, and each other....or we can continue to make it worse.

On Fatherhood...

On Fatherhood...

I will be throwing a few people lock, stock, and cooked-off barrel under the speeding bus on this post.  I speak of such things not to accuse, confront, or display 'butthurt'...but rather to illuminate the associated feelings that I personally have.

Like so many of my generation...I come from a 'broken home' that is, my birth parents separated and divorced at an early age.  In my case, it occurred somewhere between my second and third birthdays for reasons a bit too numerous for this blog...though a running trend with the paternal DNA is that on one occasion, it was deemed more important to go get drunk with my 'grandfather' than to  watch an eighteen month old child.  I have it from more than one witness (including my REAL grandfather) that on that evening, I had a bath simply to soak the dried, nasty diaper off of my infant body.  In the intervening years since my mother filed for divorce and sole custody, my father has been...an absentee at best, a deadbeat at the worst.  Point of fact, it required JAG judgements to secure child support and continued benefits for a young military dependent, especially a highly active one with a persistent need for stitches.  Visitation was....infrequent at best, often years apart.  Point of fact, I have cousins, aunts, and uncles that I haven't seen in person in over twenty years (if ever).  Insults and injuries here...the stock response to any sort of question or concern from the side of family that gave me my name is as much a cop out as the rest.  "It's water under the bridge, you can't do anything about it."  That might actually mean something....if the past mistakes were ever corrected and learned from.  But of course, they are not.  Upon learning that after 10 years, I will have another child...I did not call him a tall.  Why?  Because a decade ago, he didn't give a shit at all about his first grandchild, so why would he care about his third?  I'll explain a little of that...later.  So, on a tangent...it completely wigs me out that I have cousins that think he's the greatest thing since sliced bread, whereas to me, he's a prime example and model of what NOT to do as a father.

When I was four, my mother married my stepfather (The guy I call Dad), and has been married to him since.  Our relationship has been...tumultuous at best, and has at times been adversarial, rough, loving, supportive, and abusive.  I owe him for my belief of learning lessons from the negative, of taking something positive or as growth from the bad.  Thanks to him, a Mensa candidate can relate to...well, just about anyone, from the intelligent to the not-so.  I can relate highly technical and philosophical topics on a layman's level...all thanks to being insulted, degraded, and (at times) hit for 'speaking over' someone or 'acting superior'.  I also downplay  my own intelligence and skills, due to being 'so smart I'm stupid' or the classic 'why are you playing around with that stuff, it doesn't pay the bills!'  That stuff being computers, gaming, and writing... A personal triumph is that a career as an IT specialist and graphics designer came as a direct result of gaming and 'playing around' with computers.  Downside...I have to be in the mod to write, or have music jammed in my ears (like right now).  From physical to mental to verbal abuse, to which I owe my refusal to back down, an incapability of laying down and being cowed for whatever reason, and an almost militant need to stand up for myself.  After years of being dared to hit him as a teenager, I refuse to throw the first punch in anything, but you can rest assured I WILL throw the last.  Not to demonize him, really...he has had my back when all others haven't, for you see...I think our difficulties do stem from the fact that I am not his blood son, but not in the way most may think.  He wants me to be his own son, but for some reason, he doesn't understand that I...already am.

Which brings me to the example....the model, of what TO be; my mother's father.  Though he dies when I was 15, he left me with so many lessons and memories that sometimes it is hard to imagine that it has been that long.  A Pentecostal Holiness by faith, you would have never really known it, he didn't talk the talk....he walked the walk, a lesson I learned from.  I have memories of siting around watching the Braves play, dancing, and playing softball (he was grooming me to be a badass pitcher) and talking about the fire department.  To this day, I want...crave...need to join an FD, but I tell you something I don't know.   I don't know if I would become a FireFighter for him....or for myself.  It's a question I've never answered, so I've never done it.

So now we fast forward to 2002.  My ex-wife became pregnant with our daughter, Kaelyn Lee Starr.  She was due to be born in February of 2003, and for the most part was a fairly uneventful pregnancy, outside cravings and odd hours.  Hell, I don't even remember her having morning sickness at all. So other than doctor's appointments, it was fairly normal.  Which brings me to a strong personal belief....Guys, if you're going to be there for the conception, you can be there for the appts, the puking, the skinned knees, etc.  Don't ditch your lady to go party, get drunk, and play ball or whatever.  Be there, be a man, be a dad...she'll thank you, and one day...so will your kid.

I don't exactly remember when, last week of November, maybe the first day or two in December, my ex started having severe pain in her stomach.  On the second day of this, I took her to the doctor who found a massive infection in her uterus.  She had had stitching put in, because she has an incompetent cervix, which means that without stitches, her cervix could not hold the baby in.  Apparently, somehow the stitches became infected, and at 6 and half months, her doctor determined that it was too advanced for anti-biotics and informed us that they would need to induce labor to flush her uterus and cervix of the infection.  One week later, on December 6th, 2002 Kaelyn was born live, though the doctor's told me that she was not even conscious and would not survive.  She was not taken to an incubator, or a breathing machine, or anything....she was simply wrapped up and handed to us like any other baby.  I held her, with the exception of a few brief moments when my ex was lucid enough to hold her, until she finally stopped breathing.  In her brief time here, she fought more to live than most people do in an entire life, and I swear to you...there is no way that I could have been more proud of her if she would have lived a full life.  When we left the hospital, we had a wind-up chiming angel that my cousin had given us from the gift shop, one that we had not opened, and it remained un-opened in the packaging for at least 6-7 years.  Sealed in its hard plastic packaging, as we entered the elevator to go to where I had parked the car out front, that angel started chiming, and chimed until we left the hospital grounds.  I've no wish to play woe is me, so I shall simply say that for me the loss of her I took very much internally, private, and personal.  Rarely do I speak of it, merely to say that she lived...and only if I am asked if I have kids.  It took several years to come out of the mourning that most people did not even know I was going through...another lesson learned from Dad....no one cares about your pain, so why show it?  I distinctly recall going to the beach once several years ago and seeing a guy playing on the sand with his daughter...had to have been 4-5 years old.  I admit that I broke down right then and there (well...my version of it at any rate) and wanted nothing more than to have my little girl in my arms...to run and play on that beach.  It's been a long road, and unfortunately one I am still on a little bit.

Skip years...I've already written about my experiences during my death in 2007 with Kaelyn, so I won't recap.  Suffice to say, the pain is lessened, my reactions to some things...well, I'm still working on it.

Now we arrive to.....current events.  Such a motley mix of feelings and impressions of things is my 'paternal' life now.  I have since split from my ex-wife (3 years ago), and solidly living with my soulmate, the woman that I have been searching for for over twenty years (I may blog about it sometime....people may also be shit out of luck on that story).  Now, she is pregnant with what is essentially both of our's second child, and I am playing 'step' to her daughter, Kylie.  Such a handful that one is...spoiled (in the wrong ways, imo), undisciplined, and often times angry with a solid inability to keep her hands to herself.  With a father that refuses to discipline her properly, and then only when it does NOT inconvenience him or makes him look bad.  I'll not belabor the point to much on this, but suffice to say that there is join custody of her, and since she is a toy on the shelf to be played with at will, she spends half (at least) of each week with him.  The first day or two once she's back, she is an absolute horrible terror.....cannot take no for the simplest thing, slamming things, yelling, screaming, and attempt to boss her mother around. Mind you, neither one of us take this at all...it is not acceptable, and she is disciplined for it.  It usually takes us two days to get her straightened around, and by that time...we usually have one god day with her and back she goes to her father's house, and the cycle continues.

But hey...she's basically fucked from the get go.  Months ago, we tried to discuss with him her behavior, and the fact that she lays her hands on her classmates, and something would need to be done, to be changed, and yes on his end to.  Not only did he refuse to listen, to speak rationally, to plan....you know...to ACT LIKE A DAD, he got argumentative, confrontational.  When I calmly asked him if she wanted the same violent criminal history that he has...he promptly got in my face like a schoolyard bully and berated me to punch him and that if I did he'd 'beat my ass'.....all in front of the kid!  Back to a Dad lesson there.....years of being taunted and dared to hit my own Dad....what makes this tool think he's going to goad me into hitting him?Mind you, that was months ago....and though he really hasn't done jack or shit except start dating some girl that acts like she's entitled to be 'Mommy' with a snobbish attitude...he does at least act like half a fuckup, instead of a complete one.  And this is the caliber of guy that Amanda's whole family wanted her to stay with.......................really?  And believe me when I say, there's far more to the story than just that.

We still have not been able to get him to sit down and rationally discuss a plan to correct her behavior, and she still has issues with behavior in school.....though now magically, he's concerned over her behavior with no word really as to why.

That all being said...when she is behaving, she is an absolute joy.  Silly, sweet, funny, and addicted to hugs...she wormed her way into my heart and I'm as fiercely protective of her as I could be my own blood.  I admit to some concerns for her future, and her mother and I have butted heads a few times over courses of action.  But we both want what's best, and give her all the tools she needs to make well informed and appropriate decisions regarding her actions....choice/consequence, etc.

And so now...we are pregnant.  8 weeks and two days at the time of this writing, and we just got our first clear ultrasound of two arms, two legs, a head, and a strong heartbeat.  I am excited in my way, and in some respects feel a little guilty that he may take Kaelyn's place in my heart...but it's really more of a calm'ish, pleasant happiness.  Tempered with the realism that some things may be the same for him that it is for Kylie...and for Kaelyn admittedly.  And words cannot express the contempt and solid refusal that I have for any input, opinions, etc from those that have caused problems for me (and Amanda and Kylie) since I moved to Texas to have ANYTHING to do with my new son/daughter.  The time will come, I am sure that Kylie's father will try to buy a favor by watching my kid.  I tell you all, you'll have to break my cold dead fingers from my cold dead corpse, (and I will still be fighting) to even allow that to happen....

But mostly...the same as Kaelyn.  I don't want to make the same mistakes as was made with me.  My son/daughter will know me...I will be there, for every skinned knee, dirty diaper, cry, first steps, kindergarten, the prom, etc.  He/she will know I value them, support them, love them no matter what...though I won't take any shit, either.

I am not my fathers.

Sky Friends, tree friends, well oiled candles, and parmenidians.

Odd that a Blog, let alone mine, would need such a one...but before I proceed with the actual contents, let me put in an informative, as best objective as I can, to explain the terms that follow that are currently in use. Sad to say, these are used quite often, and on both sides (or all/multiple depending on your point of view) of the equation, or as is "divided right in two" to quote a modern philosopher so often looked aside (Right In Two right click - open in new tab/window)

Sky Friends: Refers to any reference of Angels, Saints, God, Jesus, Mary, etc.

Tree Friends: Refers to any supernatural entity/spirit associated with an "Earth Religion", i.e. Wicca, Druidism.

Well Oiled/Stocked Candles: Refers to the Menorah, with which the Siege of Jerusalem was kept count under command of Judah Maccabee, basis of Chanukah.

Plant/Pod People: See Tree People, though may refer to more primitive religions still in practice to this day; Australian Aboriginals, Modern Maya, even those recreating the old Celtic religions (no, not Druidism...there's a difference)

Cloud People: See Sky Friends, though is more all-inclusive, dealing with any Angel/Enlightened being from any of the Major or Minor religions, be it Christian, Islam, or Judaic.

Parmenidians: Taken from Parmenides, for the study of nothing, as Atheists tend to advocate in the belief of nothing to take the place of Faith or Religion.

Atheist: Literally "No God", an Atheist claims to not believe in anything that can not be measured by any of the 5 senses, even when amplified by machines, or substituted by one (such as an EMF detector or camera, thermal imaging, etc.).

Goddist (or Godhead): Anyone that believes an a Higher Power. Usually used in a derogatory fashion.

Entropy: The study of decay, another favorite of Atheists, that espouses that the universe is in an endless cycle of death and will "burn" itself out over time.

Galileo: Famous scientist and astronomer that was killed by the Catholic Church due to his lack of Belief in God, was deemed a Heretic at the times of the early Inquisition. Modern Christians most especially are held accountable for this action, Protestant, Catholic, and Independent alike.

Humanism: Another topic of study for Atheists, ironically one shared by Non-Atheists as well. It is simply the study of Human nature, how we are, how we overcome ourselves and can better each other and our surroundings. Humanism also tends to keep its eye fixed on the future, as opposed to backwards.

Earth Religions: Catch all term to include Kabbalah, Paganism, Druidism, Wicca, Shamanism, and various aboriginal beliefs/faith structures

Now that we have that out of the way, we get right into the meat and potatoes as it were, shall we? Let me be quite frank and clear with what I am about to say, I don not want any room for misunderstand or misinterpretation later.

I don't care what you believe, if you believe in anything, if you ever have, or ever will. That is your choice, not mine, to make. This is not about preaching or proselytizing, or selling anything. To some this may seem singled out, or out of the blue, but I assure you this has been brewing for going on at least a year now. I don't expect most to agree with me fully, or partially...but as one sage once put it "You can please part of the people all the time, all of the people part of the time, but..." That being said, here we go. Tackling the myths, anger, and lash outs I've read/seen/heard in no particular order.

Currently, there has been a major upswing in Anti-Religious and Anti-Faith rhetoric being spoken, protested of, preached (yes, preached!) of, and veritably crammed down the collective throats of the internet, public venues, and just about any medium that an "Angry Atheist" can "Go tell it to the Mountain [That Jesus is a zombie]". Yes, a Zombie, cause you see, Jesus was dead but then he was not, so instead of a "Rabbi resuscitated by unknown and truly undocumented ends", he becomes a Zombie, because that makes perfect sense...Beuller? Yea, I didn't think so either, since the Roman Empire was brought low by internal strife and barbarian invasions and not a Zombie Apocalypse, I suppose we can safely call that standpoint bullshit Especially since the records of a heretic Rabbi named Jesua was discovered about 10 years or so ago, it is enough to make one wonder if "Angry Atheists" are too angry to watch the History Channel, yes I know they have conspiracy theories and such but...does it lead you to THINK(?!).

So we have Item #1 under attack out of the way, case closed, there was no Zombie Apocalypse 1969 years (est.) ago, I'm sure the fact that we're all here and not gross Twilight outtakes fairly well proves that. Now "Sky Friends", one of the most frustrating, as well as my personal favorite, one to hear of. Some spout this off, with the not so subtle implication that anyone that is NOT an Atheist is high on some kind of hallucinogenic drug, or simple insane. Angels, Saints, Djinn, Mohammad, Jesus, Buddha, Oni, Ancestral Spirits, etc all belong to the "Spirit Friend" category, supposedly. Interestingly enough, as a side note to be explained upon later, is that this term is almost exclusively spoken in a degrading fashion towards anyone exhibiting *Christian* tendencies. I suppose Judaism, Shinto, Islam, and the various 'Earth Religions' are somehow immune to this? Hang onto that thought, if you would....kinda like a CSI investigator (take your pick, there's like....300 on tv).

The Accident

I've spoken of this before, here and there. As with most things that are intensely personal to me, I rarely speak of it, but since most of my actual friends and family aren't aware and don't get it, and formulating thoughts are good therapy at times, here we go. This may yet touch upon topics such as faith, spirituality, but not solid religion. If it offends...well, this my blog and no one's making you read it.

In the early part of 2007, my then wife and I moved to N.C. from the "greater Philadelphia area", or Wilmington, DE where we lived for 4 years or so, where I met some good people and friends at Comcast that I still have today. We more or less hit the ground running when we moved here, she found a job at a clothing store (ex is a retail queen), and I was hired by AT&T wireless support (where I learned more about cell phones than I cared to), all within two weeks. Her job started immediately, mine had to wait for the next training class, which was a few weeks out.

Midday, 18 April, 2007 my mother, grandmother took my wife to work in my grandmothers car. I was talked into going by the promise of lunch. We dropped my ex off at work, then went for lunch. Probably should have known something was up, since my grandmother, who was quite ill for some time, proposed iHOP for lunch; she had not eaten at an iHOP in over thirty years. They stopped by a fabric store, my mother cross-stitches, and we headed back home.
Now, my mother was diagnosed with diabetes about ten years ago, and at that time, as it turned out later, she had not taken her medicine that day. Ever see a diabetic eat a hearty lunch with no meds? My mother blacked out going into a corner a few miles away from the house and we hit a Rav4 head on, passenger side to passenger side, since the RAV4 driver didn't bother to try to avoid. A judge later slapped a lawsuit down due to his non-avoidance of the accident. My grandmother was in the front seat passenger side, and I was sitting right behind her, reading Book 3 of A Song of Ice and Fire at the time (Think Game of Thrones). We were in a 1996 Hyundai Elantra nailing a RAV4, tht particular car had only a lapbelt in the back seat. The investigators determined at point of impact my grandmother and I hit our belts at over 120mph. The RAV4, with it's 42 million airbags and seatbelts, while totaled out, enabled the driver and passenger to walk out without a scratch with minor aches and pains after most of us got to the hospital.

I remember looking up, seeing the RAV4 just before the hit, some spinning and then my mother yelling at me to wake up. I had a Dell laptop on the seat next to me, it apparently flew up and smacked the hell out of the back of my head, since it had a crack in the top plastics that matched perfectly a knot on my head that I kept for about a week. We had landed in a 10 foot wide ditch that was about four foot deep, it's been filled in a little bit since. In that small car, with the driver's side facing almost straight up, from door to road was almost a 7-8 foot distance. I am impressing the distance for the same reason 3 EMT's, a firefighter, a small cadre of nurses, and two doctors did. After I woke up, there was smoke everywhere and a smell of gas (no...that only happens in the movies) in the air. After I woke up, my training kicked in, I "put myself aside", and tried to check on my mother and grandmother. Mom ended up with a concussion, and a broken ankle, which was not life threatening. I unbuckled my seatbelt, realized my glasses went into orbit....somewhere, and leaned forward to check on my grandmother. She had a pulse and was breathing at the time, so I told her to hang on I was going to come around and try to help her out of the car, then my mother.

I climbed up to the driver's side of the car, brushed glass shards from the busted windows and pulled myself up to the top of the car, and jumped to the road pavement. I hit the ground on both feet, tried to steady myself, and nearly passed out again. As I was trying to clear my head, the driver of another vehicle came running up to tell me that he had called 911 a minute before I batman'd my way out of the car. I thanked him, and got back to my feet and headed over to my grandmother to try to help her out, but as it turned out the door was stuck fast on the slope of the ditch. She looked at me, I told her I was fine, asked if she was ok and she nodded to me. After that, my mother asked me to try to help her out the same way I went out...as it turned out, it wasn't going to be a good idea, since she had a broken ankle, and at the time my head was so tweaked I actually thought it was a 2 foot jump from the car (lol).

But...I sat back down with my grandmother, holding her hand until 2 ambulances and a firetruck from Benhaven Emergency Services arrived, who told this EMS trained guy to gtfo out and let them work, which I still think is funny. What was not funny to me at the time was their insistence on checking me out. I figured, I'm walking, talking, thinking somewhat, go take care of them worry about me later. Those I love come first, always have...always will. With the aid of a small ladder, they were able to get my mother out and strapped to a body board, then told me that they would have to use the jaws of life to get my grandmother out of the car.

At that point, I badgered my way through 3 EMTs ("Make a hole!"), and reached in, hugged my grandmother's neck, told her I loved, her and would be waiting with my mother for her until they got her out of the car and on the ambulance. After a couple minutes, the EMTs attending my mother tried again to get yours truly strapped down in a board, which I refused, not being in any pain at the time, clear headed, and felt good. For future reference, if you "put yourself aside" and amped up on adrenaline, someone can put a few bullets in you and you'll still be smiling. After a minute, the EMT talking to me made a weird guesture and I was, I thought, rudely but gently tackled by a few firefighters and forcibly strapped into that damn iron maiden body board. And it felt that way as soon as I was strapped in, I immediately hurt from head to toe.

My mother and I were tossed into the ambulance and we headed off to the hospital in Sanford, NC. Halfway there, we heard over the radio that upon pulling my grandmother out of the car, she tac'd and immediately went into cardiac arrest. My motehr started panicking, and I barked at the EMT to "Shut that fk'n thing off, what's wrong with you?!" My mother held my hand in a death grip and cried until we got to the hospital, she still does sometimes. My grandmother died on scene at the accident, the first of two fatalities.

My mother got a cast/brace for her ankle and a neckbrace. I was given xrays, mri's, ct scans, the works by the ER, with a lot of sidelong glances, whispers, weird looks from nurses, and nods from the EMTs. I didn't find out until the next day exactly what I had done in exiting the car and my actions afterward. It still surprises me a bit to this day, in all honesty...but then I haven't gotten to me quite yet. I was released befor emy mother as they did not find anything in any of the scans, but I did leave the ER with a healthy prescription of muscle relaxers and percocets, in addition what they shot me up with. I was outside having a smoke by the road when my ex arrived with my aunt and uncle who had picked her up from work. My aunt gave me yet another strange look and my uncle just looked at me, laughed, and shook his head before going in to see my mother.

That night was a very sober one, no one was able to eat when we got home. Mom and I stayed up late talking that night after my ex went to bed. The next day I will remember for the rest of my life. It took me at least 30 minutes to get out of bed, I was stiff as a brick, and I felt rolling pains through my stomach, popping and....a pulling sensation. I later equated it t being caught in a chain hoist that was tightening around you. I popped some pain meds, muscle relaxers and got up when they kicked in, and had my first day of many these last 4 years of not being able to eat. My parents, ex, aunt, uncle, and one of my cousin's had a family day at my uncle's house next door to talk about things, and discuss plans, it was then that I learned about my "batmaning" out of the car, and was pointedly told I was a dumbass for doing it, especially after what we found out later. I excused myself from the get together, stating I needed to sit and have a smoke, but in truth the earlier pain came back. Now, I am no stranger to pain, and have an abnormally high pain tolerance, but that was easily the worst pain I have ever been in.

Ten minutes later, my cousin's husband who is an LPN and former Gulf war era medic came up and told me I needed to go back to the hospital. I, of course, declined, saying if I didn't feel any better by Sunday I might. He stood up, grabbed a mirror, told me to look at myself and told me that if I was one of his patients, he would have called for the crash cart instead of talking. I have a picture taken at AT&T about a month after all this, where I still have a decent tan, but that day, looking in the mirror I was the palest I have ever been.

My ex came over after he walked off, and I told her that yes, I would go to the hospital. My cousin's husband may be full of shit with some things, but when it comes to trauma, he's pro. So we went back to the hospital, had the full run of scans again, this time the attendant consulted a specialist, Dr. Michael Gordon. Dr. Gordon immediately admitted me into ICU, had the nurses put so much crap in me that I passed out and only woke up twice for about 2 mins each time. Once to make sure my ex was still with me, and the second when the results came back.

Dr. Gordon had already told the both of them the full extent of what was going on, I was told enough of the basics to go "she has power of attorneeeeeee, ok...zzzzzzzzz" But I do distinctly remember both of them with rivers where most people have eyes. What I was told at the time was that there was some internal damage that he needed to look at, but that I should be ok. What I actually found out later, I had to steal the records, as dad and m ex didn't want to talk too much about it, was that I had: Internal trauma, lacerated mesentery (that's the sheath of muscles that hold your guts in), punctured kidney, my right side, rupturing appendix, multiple tears, and internal bruising. Essentially, everything from my sternum to pelvis, middle to right side was pulped, and I was losing a lot of blood.

I was in surgery for over 12 hours. At some point, as I have every surgery that I've had, I woke up. Dr. Gordon, to his credit, noticed right away that my eyes were open, looked over the curtain they put over my aired out self and simply said everything was fine, go back to sleep. I think I nodded, but I really doubt I did and passed back out. At some point, the blood loss caught up and and I died on that operating room table for approximately six minutes according to my records. I have memories of this...and it was a lot longer than six minutes.

I have always considered my self a faithful person, faith in myself, in others, in nature, in what most acknowledge as God, and what most call an afterlife. That faith does not come from any religion, but is very much an internal, personal thing. What happened that night seared it into me in a way that I am still realizing, as well as other changes that have come about since then. I remember no light at the end of the tunnel, I think that's a personal expectation, and I believe in the "Periphery", or the space between, from very early eschatology. There, I saw my grandmother, who did not speak, only smiled at me, but I could feel her love and pride in me. And my daughter, Kaelyn Lee Starr was there, though instead of a month old, she looked to be about five or six (She was born in 2002). We talked for a little while, I'll not relate what was said, but I have the idea that much more was said than I remember now.

The next after that I remember was walking up Sunday afternoon and tearing out that itchy, raw, and offensive tube that was up my nose and down my throat and passed back out. The tape I think a nurse took off later, I still have a little bit of an indent from that damn tube (lol). I was in the hospital for two weeks on a steady diet of percocet (after I badgered the nurses into taking me off morphine), pain killers, prednisone, phenyrgen, and IV bags. I remained on an all liquid diet for two months, which was how long I was supposed to be in ICU for, but why stop being a stubborn ass then, right? I left the hospital the day of my grandmother's funeral, was told the room would stay there for me, but I wanted to go home and process what happened, and my foggy memories of the early hours of April 20th.

Well, that's pretty much the end of that, but the end is never the end, merely a new beginning in beggar's clothes. I was confined in a wheelchair my entire time at the hospital and two weeks after that. I was told there was a likelihood that I might have had spinal injuries from the trauma, surgery, and spinal tap that was done. I said "Fk you, I'm walking", hobbled out of the wheelchair, used a bokken as a cane for a month or so and I've been walking since. I went to work about 4 months ahead of time, nailing the next training class at AT&T after my original finished.

My dad acted like a father for a few months, which was pretty great. My ex, who was having an affair at the time of our move to NC, now ask me why we moved, fell all over herself with apologies, and "almost lost you, blah blah blah" Well, you know she was full of shit, since she's my ex and wasn't born with that knee dime that most women have. She made it about a year before she started her affairs again, and I cranked out the best woman cheating, jealous quote, I think. "to be jealous, he's got to have something I want. If you are just friends, then he has nothing I want and need not worry. If you are having an affair with this guy, then he STILL has nothing I want, so I need not worry."

I still hurt everyday, but it's mostly manageable. I still have the appetite of a bird; that and walking has dropped me 4 inches of my waist, which I suppose is cool, though I have lost muscle mass, which is not cool. I do have a "post incisional hernia" as a result of the surgery where my muscle wall was weakened, have since 2008. Thanks to the best medical care and coverage in the known world, I haven't had sufficient insurance in the last 3 years or so to have it repaired. I almost did with my previous employer, but they dropped the ball, so to speak, and I never got my insurance card. My current employer, however, offers the same insurance, so here in a few months....

But...since the accident I have found myself far more patient, tolerant, understanding, and forgiving of a lot of things. Adultery, obviously, not being one of them. There is a constant that I share with most that have had "NDE's", but that's not what this is about. I have learned to appreciate each day as it comes, the people around me, and I have finally learned to take things in stride, find the humour in everyday life. It is something I have tried to share with others around me, which is lost on them sometimes, but other times...they get it clearly and I smile.

So there you have it, if you've bothered to read this far. The source of all my comments, posts, some songs, quotes, and such. Maybe, just maybe...you'll understand yours truly just a little bit more. If not, your choice.

Faith is.....

Faith, in all its forms, is not to a thing to cling to against all hope like a life-raft in the middle of a vast ocean. Faith is the all encompassing hope itself that raises us above the waters so we do not need the life raft at all.

To everything....a price

Call it the holiday if you like, this time of the year were the subject of sacrifice does come into play. Whether it is the Christian traditions or those...older. Essentially, all religions, faiths, and belief structures, save for a few, hold true to some concept of sacrifice. Whether a consistent one, a one time only affair, or those darker. As my own personal, spiritual, and faith background usually leads me to feeling a bit violent about this topic, I'll leave the darker ones alone...to say I do not approve is a vast understatement (lol).

Essentially, in my belief and experience, everything in life is a sacrifice, or more precise...a balance. Want your bills paid? Gotta lay off the movies, etc. New Car, kids need food? You get it. TO obtain, we must typically abstain. Most will call this common sense without giving it much further thought that it is a sacrifice, a balance...and that has a power of its own. Point in fact, the very act of sacrifice, the acknowledgment of it has power, even if only to ourselves. Sacrifice of things, of places, people (associations, not literal), lifestyles, or even of flesh. But, you ask, why flesh...you said not the dark stuff!

Darker "stuff" is always when you foist that which is personal or of self onto another in order to bypass the cost. Granted, it does have a cyclical way of rebounding...law of three much? What I am referring to is my favorite (though not my only) example of a personal sacrifice. One that proves the point, has physical, scientific, verifiable proof. (Take that metaphysics professors....:P). When I was 14 years old, I fell out of a tree (yea I know...I have a thing for heights....love them, ask me why ;) ). and broke my eft arm just below my shoulder. As a cast was not practical, let alone a full upper body one, due to the location of the break, I had surgery at Womack Army Hospital where I had internal and external pins implanted to hold my shoulder in place and wore a shoulder immobilizer for a few months. The drawback to this surgery was that it sealed the growth plate of my shoulder, which at 14, would leave me as an adult with a right arm 4-6 inches longer than my left. (It only actually got 3 inches longer).

These facts can be verified via medical records and those that I did go to high school with that remember (I made the pins no secret....I thought they were cool, most thought they were gross as I had to clean them regularly....lol). I was about 16-17 years old, and the shorter left arm was really annoying me, and of course, a teenager so I felt a bit inadequate. So I took one of my silver crosses and branded it three times consecutively onto that left arm...the scar's still there, but faded a bit. I did it knowingly as a personal sacrifice, a price that I was willing to pay for myself, of myself. I'll not say how long, just that it was very quickly...my left arm was, and still is, the same length as it would have been normally.

Metaphysical, old religion(ish), or psycho-somatic....who cares the real reason for it, I suppose. For me, it worked and that's the whole point some times, isn't it? I'll let the skeptics, religious nuts, skeptics, and poseurs debate the hows and whys. To me, it is when you doubt something that it loses its power, even if it's solely personal.

I'll take a derail, slightly, here. There are those that hold true to some of the same beliefs I do, but of everything BUT prices and balance. These individuals read a bit too much Crowley, who said "An it harm none, do what thou wilt is the whole of the law". Most tend to conveniently forget the "Am it harm none" part. I have acutally yet to meet a Crowley-it(?) that is happy in life for a greater extent, or are fulfilled with what they have chosen out of life. Make of that what you will, but I know what I think....lol.

Even balances and sacrifices and losses have a cyclical way of rebounding on is. The most personal aspect of that fact is my beloved daughter, Kaelyn. I felt her grow inside my ex-wife for seven months, picked out her name along with said ex, and held her for the entire, single, whole, and only day she drew breath. I have called it the best day and the worst day of my entire life (that's saying something), what most are not aware is that a long time ago, a fortune was told, among a few others at that time, which said I would not father and raise a child of my own. I have lived the last 20+ years with that knowledge. Hence my surprise and extreme happiness....and sadness over her birth. I cremated my daughter and have had her with me ever since and always will.

That price...that small blessing did come back around to me later in the guise of yet another Choice, another price to pay...but a story for another time, maybe another place. Essentially, to gain...we give up something in exchange. Whether or not it is acknowledged or not, there is a price to be paid. The tricks of it is to be prepared to pay it and to take that price unto ourselves! I have met...individuals that try to foist that price unto others, whether it is emotional, financial, or spiritual. None of us are innocent of the first two, especially myself....such is life. But the spiritual, or even physical, price must be paid by us and us alone. Another practical example is the drunk, or alcoholic. Case in point...drunk drivers. I've known those that have only ever hurt themselves, lost their keys, etc. By the same token, I have met those that have foisted that price onto others, causing property damage, injuries, and even death onto those unlucky enough to pass by.

Even emotional prices can take a toll...on our self control, discipline, social lives, and even jobs. Speaking of myself, I have tried to leave my propensity towards impatience, rash action, and passion (which combined with some things are a pretty odd combination) behind. So I live my time mostly not being bothered by those things that would "get a rise" out of me, and try to be "at harmony" with myself and such. It is a challenge, as I am naturally a very active personality, and my first reaction to most problems is to jump and fix. That has gotten me into many vast problems in the past, leading to my long path towards redemption and forgiveness (same story for another time, perhaps). Thus sometimes I find myself quite at peace, but extremely restless at the same time, and the intensifies certain things which only increase my current irritations.

So in closing I say....do be careful of what you wish for, or what you want. Make sure you are prepared for the price that you will have to pay in order to reach that goal. Even if it's something as passe as graduating from school as a valedictorian, or as "intangible" as reading the stars for signs. The last thing anyone, you, or me really needs is for the balance to be of a price too high for us to pay, or to be willing to pay. Then...you are either well and truly screwed, or you seek "alternative methods", and then you and I, my friend....we'll have issues. :D



Note: Some thing were omitted from this post after the writing of it dealing more in depth with my accident and its immediate aftereffects.

Family, Part 2

Family, as I've said before, has always been a somewhat touch and go subject with me. I'm not used to a full time family, rather once that only comes together during holidays, funerals, and then goes back to angling that knife for a well timed back stab. Of course, I am speaking of my mother's side of the family, as my father's side of the family I largely have had little, if any, contact with since I was a kid...the exception being my baby sister. Even then we spent years apart, years I would give anything to have back. Speaking solely for myself, I feel that I have failed her in the past by not being there when she needed her big brother the most, though I didn't know it at the time...I tried and failed to find her years before I actually did, unfortunately. Which is why I am proud to call her husband my brother; he was there when I wasn't. Now she has a son of her own, my nephew Amir (Arabic for 'Prince'), who I have fallen in love with, without ever having met the little guy in person...something will be rectified within a month or so from the time I write this.

Kids and I are a complex issue, I admit. I like them, pretty much all ages, to be honest. I've taught them, trained them, hung out with them, been an example for them, both in military and civilian life. I generally think kids are funny, enlightening, and often have insights most adults lack...if those traits are encouraged! (Unfortunately, I've seen kids that are the opposite). In all honesty, I am very much like most adults, guys especially...I do want kids (to a point...I'll explain), I do want to pass on what I know, the lessons I've learned, and help at least some of the new generation to think for themselves :).

That being said, I admittedly can be standoffish somewhat with some kids, depending on their age...aloof might be the right word. Having lost my daughter has/had affected me in ways that I am still realizing, and even though I have come to terms with things, I do know that closure is somewhat of an illusion when a person loses a child, no matter the circumstances. Hence my very hardline approach to those that deliberately put their children in harm's way. Certain....circumstances that took place several years ago have made things easier, but the loss is there, just the pain has been soothed a bit.

Main thing is...I already have a child, I am a father. There's nothing that can change it, or the fact that for her entire life, she fought...and fought hard to live. Kaelyn could not have made me prouder in 24 years as she did in those 24 hours. Or what happened after my accident. I know that those that truly love and care for me want another grandchild/niece/nephew from me, but at least they understand and support my decision to not be worried about it. And I love them all the more for it :).

That all being said, there is a child, of my blood, that wants his uncle to come down. And his mother wants me around (been on me about it since I split from "psycho hobag"). I have found it important that if no proper examples were given of what to be, learn what not to be, and go from there. I've learned what not to be from father figures, and the uncles on my mother's side...and even how to not be a good brother. The trick of it, I think, is to figure out how to turn it around and make it mean something, because it doesn't mean anything, what's the point?
For my sister, I couldn't love her spazzy ass more if we grew up spending every day together, and regret the years we spent apart. In this, I think maybe....just maybe, I understand a little of the "out of sight, out of mind" mentality when it comes to absent relatives/children from the "patriarchs" of my family. (Dear God, don't get me started on pappap...lol). I think it's about fear...fear that you don't know how to start over, how to get past whatever happened, and fear that the care you show won't be reciprocated. Maybe that's why I have resisted moving, I don't know...I generally try to follow my heart in such things, but in this, I don't know why for sure. Maybe I just got tired of being a gypsy...All I know is that I miss my skinny, silly little sister that shares my weird sense of humor.

As for Amir...I love the little guy already, and my sister and her husband already know that I will make sure he's taken care of no matter what. But...I confess I want to watch him grow, be there for him, and make sure he has a confidante, an example, and someone beyond his parents that will love him and be there no matter what comes his way...even if it's with a "Gibb Slap"...lol.

Selfishly speaking, it is also a very appealing idea to be around a bunch of people with the same warped sense of humor, and abject goofiness that I have, even if it comes with the hefty price tag of the hottest state in the country...lol. But, as in all things...we'll how things go...one step at a time, and all that. Well...and hope that I don't fk it up...lol.