As long as habit and routine dictate the pattern of living, new dimensions of the soul will not emerge.
Henry Van Dyke
10
Jul 10
The Stuff in Storage
Have you ever had stuff in storage? Do you pay monthly rent on a storage unit? Do you stuff boxes in an attic or on a garage shelf only to forget what is in the box, and then have to dig through to reacquaint yourself with your own belongings? Continue reading →
05
Jul 10
When The Other Shoe Doesn’t Drop
Apparently, the Narcissist’s other shoe is not made of concrete. Apparently, the other shoe will not even be dropped. Mark received The Email from mom. And, as previously written, she dared say things I have never had the guts to say. She delivered a 2 x 4 to his forehead with more force than I thought her slender arms could produce. She blew off the end of the smoking gun, re-holstered, and stood with arms crossed, head high, waiting for a response. Continue reading →
02
Jul 10
The Boy in the Kevlar Vest
They met on the playground. He liked her shiny brown hair and the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. She liked how smart he was, and how he made her laugh. The more they played together, the more they learned how similar they were. They liked to sit in the sun and read good books. They liked to walk through the forest holding hands. They liked to sit under a tree and eat strawberries and crackers and peanut butter. Continue reading →
28
Jun 10
The Narcissist’s Other Shoe
This is the calm before the storm. Or is it? After Mark’s last email to Will, we have not heard much from him. It has been quite pleasant around here. Although, there is a part of me that wonders what’s coming next. Continue reading →
26
Jun 10
CliffsNotes to a Newborn
I sat in the lobby of the old hospital building when my kids were in their last counseling session. The session was over two hours long. I sat and waited. I should have gotten groceries. I should have run to the bank. I could have done a lot of things. Will was concerned that Mark might take them ’somewhere’ after the session. To offer Will some comfort, I promised that I’d be sitting there when the kids got out of the session. Continue reading →
22
Jun 10
When The Path Is Overgrown
I am the stream. I am the stream. I am the stream. Yeah, whatever. There seem to be a few more rapids in the stream today. I won’t bore you with details. Same crap, different day. I do believe in the stream. I am the stream. Today I needed a little help getting around a humongous boulder right in the middle of my path. Continue reading →
21
Jun 10
I Am The Stream
I thought about posting the most damning quotes from the emails received from Mark in the last few days. I thought I might even write about how Mark is telling Will that while every boy needs a mom, they don’t need a mom who poisons them with the hate they feel for that boy’s dad. I thought I’d even post entire copies of those emails. (Trust me. They far exceed the 1000 word limit that a lot of bloggers prefer.) I thought of posting his criticisms and defending myself. His writings further prove his disorder, so it certainly would be more fodder for this blog. Continue reading →
20
Jun 10
Happy Father’s Day to Me
I have learned how to throw a spiral. I ski even on the days when it’s too damn cold, and I’d rather be sitting by the fire reading a good book. I routinely embarrass myself on the golf course. I know the difference between an olie, a tic-tac, a fakie, a nosegrind and a kickflip. (Those are skateboarding terms, by the way.) I even remember to laugh at their burp competitions. I also let them spit sunflower seed shells at each other - until I can’t stand it any more. Continue reading →
17
Jun 10
When Fear is the Bus Driver
“Whoa! That was a fun ride!” she says, facetiously. I’m sure it won’t be the last time Fear drives this bus. But, for now, I’m back behind the wheel. I’ve got to look into getting some seat belts installed on this thing. The view from the back seat was interesting, but a little blurry because Fear was driving so fast. That’s probably why I was up the night before last, vomiting. Fear does that to me. It’s a lot like car sickness. Continue reading →
