Lillian was a "social drinker" who loved bowling- and socializing. My mother, as well as her brother Gary, sister Karen, and Lil's own kids- Roxanne and Kirk, didn't really care for her as much as I would have imagined. Something was drawing me to her during my childhood. Unfortunately our home was shattered and my scrambled self was lost to the wayside, where no one saw me among the weeds and debris, carelessly discarded by so-called human beings. No longer would I have to feel unheard since my main concern was then changed into finding myself a place to be. It wasn't until now, writing this, that I realized that I needed that place to be in order to heal enough to live a life of my own. It wasn't until now that I understood how permanent the damage was, and how it related to my ability to develop and grow as an individual and a man.
My development was arrested by trauma but at the same time it was that very trauma that made me want to have my turn at being a parent and someone's husband. My very being wanted to prove that I could have a family of my own without trauma- avoidable trauma but looking back, at the age of 46 years, and seeing how much existence was stolen from me and my siblings- and how little life is left for me, is just as traumatizing during bouts of extreme depression. It is mentally and emotionally crippling, and, as for managing addiction, it makes sobriety very difficult. Being sober is important to me. Growing physically and spiritually is important to me. It is the vehicle that I need to get my messages out- to be able to share my art and music with the world and it's children. And to feel their love and adoration for having been made to smile and consider something real- to be able to smile, to smell the summer beeches and leeks. To be able to pluck a berry from a bush along the trail and feel the warmth of the sun on their face, and the cool of the green on top of the shade of the forest. To know that they are smelling the fresh pitch of the pine when it's dancing on their senses. But the need for money steals a piece. And the need for affection takes a portion. And tobacco robs a layer. And fear closes a hunk of their remembrance. And it all erases their existence.
My development was arrested by trauma but at the same time it was that very trauma that made me want to have my turn at being a parent and someone's husband. My very being wanted to prove that I could have a family of my own without trauma- avoidable trauma but looking back, at the age of 46 years, and seeing how much existence was stolen from me and my siblings- and how little life is left for me, is just as traumatizing during bouts of extreme depression. It is mentally and emotionally crippling, and, as for managing addiction, it makes sobriety very difficult. Being sober is important to me. Growing physically and spiritually is important to me. It is the vehicle that I need to get my messages out- to be able to share my art and music with the world and it's children. And to feel their love and adoration for having been made to smile and consider something real- to be able to smile, to smell the summer beeches and leeks. To be able to pluck a berry from a bush along the trail and feel the warmth of the sun on their face, and the cool of the green on top of the shade of the forest. To know that they are smelling the fresh pitch of the pine when it's dancing on their senses. But the need for money steals a piece. And the need for affection takes a portion. And tobacco robs a layer. And fear closes a hunk of their remembrance. And it all erases their existence.
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