Friday, November 1, 2013 10:47:24 AM
Loss always comes in many forms. You can loose something, you can misplaced something, you can be divorced from someone, and you can lose someone.
It is Halloween tonight. By the time I finish this it will be morning and all the little spooks and ghosts will be be snuggly in their beds respectively. Tonight we honor - in a manor of speaking, the dead. We do it in a fun way by dressing up as something. As a costume farse on a stage that is set on the rocky road of living. Tonight is the first time that my son's wife will be without him on Halloween. He shot himself several months ago in the head. She rushed to save him, got his blood all over her as she held him, but he was dead. My son was gone. We never really heal from something like this. It is always a void. It is always an empty place with deep hurt. It is not the screaming of ghosts chasing your in a house or a mad man with an axe. It is just something that cannot be filled ever again.
My son and I were friends as well as father and son. There are not too many of those in this world. My son always said that I was the best father in the world. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't, I don't know. I just know that I am not getting dressed up this year as anything. I am hoping my son will come and just sit by side for a while, maybe put his arm around dad's shoulder to let me know that everything will be okay.
I just miss him. I don't want any candy or any trick. I just want my son, something that cannot happen. It is Halloween and I think of the first time I took him trick or treating at 3 years old. He made a quite a haul for the first time and he had a blast. It was fun watching him trying to eat all of his candy...but he fell asleep instead from all the excitement. 29 years ago he was on this earth. Now the earth continues to revolve without him.
I miss my son. This has been the deepest loss I have ever felt in my life.
I will love him always..
Friday, August 16, 2013 7:33:43 AM
Hi everyone. Just when I thought I might be able to deal with life again...no. You think about stuff your whole life, and most of it is garbage and no one will ever know anything about it. But tonight, I would like to share something special with you. I was called by my son't girlfriend to go to the apartment where they used to live to help them take stuff out out of it and place in the truck that I am using (this truck used to belong to my son). As I entered the apartment, I just had thoughts of him saying to me, "HI Dad, how are you?" I didn't know if I could do this. I felt like falling on floor like I did in the hospital when I saw on on machine life support with his body bloated with fluids - just to keep him alive until we could say goodbye and the organ donor people show up.
Renee looked at me, asked me if I was okay, it was obvious that I was crying in the apartment, and she said, "Take this box to the truck, Dad and come back for more." What? Come back for more! No! I can't do this! So I took a breath, tears streaming down my face and walked to the truck and placed the box in the truck. I came back and there was more stuff outside for me to gather, which was better in many ways. Renee handed me my son's two cloth toolboxes and said I could have them. I really didn't know how to respond. I felt weak in my legs and I just told myself that I had to keep going.
I wasn't going to write this. I don't know why I am doing this. So I put the toolboxes in the truck on the passenger side and shut the door. Good. Now I wouldn't have to think about them at all. I continued to help and load stuff up, watching out for five children who where helping with little light things like the foam floatie things for kids for the pool. Or, a shirt, or hanger; something they could just toss inside the truck and not think about it. I had to rearrange the load some so during travel everything wouldn't go on top of someones car by surprise and cause an accident.
I arrived at the destination and the kids were happy to help me unload, which was easier than loading for them and me. We all piled everything where Renee said to and then I was given a tour of the new clean bedrooms, Renee's room with her daughter and the little make up stand with the brush. Looking at this change I was hoping it was going to be for the better. After getting the grand tour and seeing where Grandma tells the kids that there is an "outside" and they should play out there more often instead of playing computer games. Everything was really cool.
I had to leave so I said goodbye to the kids and left out the front door, got in the truck and went home with the tool toolboxes. i brought them inside and looked at what was in them. There was almost a complete socket set, which I thought was good, and I could probably use that, as well as a few crescent wrenches. Then I found his hammer. It was covered here and there in white paint from painting one of the apartments, where he worked. I looked at it and remembered the day he came over and bitched about how he had had to get this fucking apartment ready in time for some idiot who changed their mind at the very last minute and wanted to be in the apartment the next day. My son had been livid because of the scheduling of this apartment. He had done 30 that day and was tired when he had to work overtime that he would not be paid for, to get this fucking apartment ready. His coveralls were splattered with the white paint. He was complaining about his back again and I gave him something for it. We had coffee together and talk shit for a while about guns, girls (which pissed off my wife - who is now divorcing me for having an on line affair with a woman that I will never see), and cars.
It was almost like he was there, sitting on the couch next to me, and we were able to relive this moment, and then..........it ended... with the image of him putting the 9mm to his head, his children and Renee following him to get him to come back home, the scream from Renee, the shot and all the blood as she held him with the children watching, the police coming, the neighbors taking the children away, and all hell breaking loose.
I laid down the hammer on the couch where he sat when we had our conversations, and just cried and cried.
I know nothing will bring him back. I have to do my best to try to deal and cope with how I feel day after day - to heal, not to forget.
There might be a time when I can use his hammer, it is just not now. I will miss him so very much. I love you son. I have your tools. i have your truck and will be buying it Tuesday. Tuesday it will be ours. I love you son and miss you so fucking much. Dad.
Friday, August 16, 2013 6:35:57 AM
Marzena, thank you for the joke. It was badly needed. Last month my son shot himself in the head with a 9mm pistol. I am still crying. He was also my friend. I know you have blocked me and I am okay with that. But if you ever wanted to be friends, and I only mean friends, let me know. Matthew..
P.S. Nice photo of you..
Tuesday, July 30, 2013 6:38:07 AM
Recently some of you may know of the tragic suicide of my son, Kyle, who was only 29. In attempting to come to terms with my only son's death it has occurred to me that he has given me a gift. This gift was his love. Some of you may think that this is just a kind of way to deal with my my son's death by saying this. In some ways you would be right, in others wrong. I am not sure what I really want to say here because I am filled with so much emotion and it is hard to explain how I feel to everyone. My son was my friend, my son, and my buddy. He was my alter ego in many ways. I helped him get sober when he was having difficulty dealing with his drinking because I was an AA Sponsor. He listened and I guided him. He moved in the wrong direction and I would tell him. He would come to me and talk to me about things to get them off his chest and to get advice or a point of view before he did anything, and I would give him the best advice I could find to give to him.
Things down the line begun to get convoluted and twisted with my ex-wife. They became worse and almost to a point where things became dangerous. What I am getting at in a round-about way is that my ex-wife has told many people on line that were had written their names in the book at the funeral with the email address, that my son's girlfriend killed my son in essence. What my ex-wife doesn't remember is that I loved her once enough to have our and make our son together. Nothing will bring him back. I saw the spot where he shot himself. There is kitty litter all over that area still soaking things up - a week after it has happened. My son's blood, he is gone.
My title "Lost and Found," is representative of two things: the first being that my son lived and was a good man and did many good things for so many, and his death, the lost...
The joy that he gave me and his family, his sons and daughters, and Renee who he loved more than anything in the world, and all that was given in the time that they all had together and what he shared with me and others.....the found....
I write this as a father, not as a critic of love or how others deal with loss, that is not my stance here. My point here is that my son was who he was while he was here and was loved deeply by many before he killed himself. It is not to accuse anyone or go off the fucking deep end because I feel like going in that direction right now with losing my son and knowing he will never be there again, never. I just wanted you to know that I thought my son had some worth in this world and was a good person, despite his drinking and his problems. He was all I had, I only had one, but he brought me such joy and gave me such love; my son was found.
Friday, July 19, 2013 6:38:44 PM
When is a man a man?
Tuesday, January 8, 2013 12:30:00 AM
When is a man a Man? Is it because he has a penis and a pair of balls? Is it because he can be stronger and beat a woman senseless and leave her to die? It is because he can force people to do his bidding and then feel God Like? Is is because he can fuck? Is it because he can get others to fuck other people and damage them for life? It is because he drinks and probably a drunk? Is is because he can never be faithful, until he wants his pussy? Is it because he is really a coward and could never face another man in combat? Is it because he probably had sex with his mother, sister and the dog? Is it because he is violent and he doesn't care who lives or dies, as long as he has his?
A man is a man when he is kind to other people. It is when he does not hurt others, and does not treat people as if they are his play toys. A man is a man when he can share love, real love to a woman, instead of controlling her. A man is a man when he protects those he loves with his life. A man is a man when he helps his wife with the baby and never shirks responsibility. A man is a man when he does not make someone feel beneath him, but equal and share in all that he has to give. A man is a man when he does not degrade women, treat them as prostitutes and property; but treats her as his wife and partner who has freedom and trust in all things.
I write this to show you the comparisons of what should be and what is sometimes in the real world. The first paragraph is the way of life in Australia, with no regard for anyone but mens cocks and money. If you don't believe me, find an idiot named Bobby who owns a construction company and a string of brothels, and to keep women in line, rape, gang rape and even murder are not out of the question. What he does and is does not make him a man. It makes him something you flush down the toilet that has no use at all.
Tonight, when you with your wife, do something nice for her and tell you love her and show her that you do by doing something nice. Without her...there would be no you.
Thursday, June 20, 2013 7:01:23 AM
Something occurred on Opera about 2 years ago when I was having my hip surgery. My wife was not in the care taker mood and even told me that I might have to just take care of myself from now on because she was tired of taking care of me. So....here I was, home from the hospital with a total hip replacement and drugs galore to kill the pain (it was really bad - I even had staples in my hip to keep things together).
I wanted someone to talk to just to vent, just to sort of yell my feelings to - I didn't care who it was, just someone; someone out there. That was when I found Kellee. She listened to me and was more than sympathetic. We wrote back and forth for a long time and Christmas arrived and things went sour because I was nasty to her and told her to go ....... ..... and she said some things to me as well.
I could never imagine what I was doing on Opera in the first place, except getting myself into trouble with a woman I didn't know and finding out she had an alter ego that was even nastier when she was confronted. There was a lot I didn't know about her and then it began....I started to feel this warm thing begin to grow inside of my heart for her.
After her alter ego and I had it out I had threatened to kill myself. I might have too, but all I could think of was Kellee and Jessie (her alter ego). I left Opera for about a year - deleted it from my computer and tried to put things out of my mind. The more my relationship with my wife fell apart, the more I kept thinking of Kellee. We are on our two year anniversary now, being in contact with one another!
My marriage has fallen apart and my wife is leaving me. She found me typing to Kellee and started to type back and tell her where to go. Then things went from bad to worse and to cut the story short, she slapped me hard on the face saying that I have ruined the relationship. I have been treated though as if I am a servant of some kind. When the plants outside needed to be watered she would point and say to me, "The plants need water," as if I was hired help and not a husband at all. At one point in our relationship I had to sell my wedding ring to pay rent because she would help out at all.
So...my wife got mad at me, slapped me and I called the police and had her arrested. She lied to the police and said she did not hit me, or I blocked her arm from hitting me, etc....Kellee and I continued to talk secretly on my computer, and I found myself falling in love with her. Here is a woman that I have never met, don't know about, and am not sure about except my heart is sure.
Since then I have learned a great deal about her, that I will keep private if you don't mind, and our love has grown deeper for each other more than I have ever loved anyone; and the same for her. The only thing is that I live in the U.S. and she in Austraila and I am trying to get or find funds to get to her. If anyone has ideas I would appreciate it. I have proposed marriage to her ( I know, I know. Into the fire from the pit of the other you might say). She is so wonderful and my whole life is change from my heart and mind to my soul for this woman.
I love you Kellee, with all my heart. I hope I have filled in the blanks for many of you who may have been reading the blogs and thinking.... I think I know what is going on... how weird!
So...that is my blog for today.. and Kellee, I love you more each day. You have my heart...
Friday, May 11, 2012 2:20:29 AM
Hi everyone. You will see in the photo the finished wooden model deck of the Scottish Maid. I have been working on the hatches and cabins for the boat and they are complete but I need to do some detail work on them so I do not have any photos at present. As I mentioned before ...some of this is a very tedious process and patience is the only key to success instead of speed.
The only thing left for the deck that I must do is to spray it with a flat marine varnish and let it set for 48 hours. Once the superstructure parts are done I will add them to the deck after the holes for the mast and anchor chain have been drilled, according to proper placement. Then a light coat of oil on the deck to keep the wood moist before the sides are built to give it flexibility. More later as things progress.
Thursday, May 10, 2012 7:24:38 AM
I took this photo this past year with my camera. It is the Moon and Venus at their closest. It is really a cool photo.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012 4:10:57 AM
Building this model has proved to be a challenge because there are parts missing. In a plastic kit it can be manufactured if you the secrets of how to do that, as I do. But with a wooden model it is a bit different because the parts are in specific dimensions to what you are building. When you build in wood and parts are missing, you must reconstruct the original parts by the plans and the scale. This takes time and can be labor intensive if the parts are small.
However, I am making progress in this area and am having to scratch build new parts; but the time that this is taking can be tremendous. Care must must be the operative word here and to make sure that the part you are making looks better than the original, to follow the specs.
I will have more photos for you later once I get more done but as this current stage is taking some time I will hold off on sending anything final.
Sunday, May 6, 2012 3:12:49 AM
Tonight, as many of you may know, the SuperMoon is supposed to appear. I have three photos I took this evening to share with you of the SuperMoon in case you were working, studying, or doing something else and just forgot. Enjoy the view......
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