Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show...(the opening lines of David Copperfield as written by Charles Dickens;inspired by MTM). Or at least this ACCOUNT will, perhaps, have a reflection on whether I'm going to be the hero in my own life.
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight~~~IRIS; The Goo-Goo Dolls
When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
The aforementioned is the opening remarks to Our Declaration of Independence. The relevance!?!? A metaphor for life. And even as a million thoughts are racing through the mind to essay this journal, the time, in our lifetime, continues to roll along.
Where does one start!?!? I suppose the best place to start would be at the very very beginning. This way one would be able to take all of the corrective actions necessary so that the course of your history through life, would be made picture-perfect. Alas, I am not going to be granted that privilege. So where do we go from here??
After my birthday, the next major event on my calendar would be our anniversary. This would be on Tuesday, 9 August, 2011. This would be our 36th Wedding Anniversary. Along with the two years of courting, Donna and I have a 38 year history of being together. Like so many relationships, ours was not picture-perfect. But by-and-large, I thought, for the most part, we were getting over the hurdles, and the equity of the years together would redeem itself in a togetherness that would stand the test of time. Instead, the rigors of the hurdles were only separating us. Even as I thought I was aiding in overtaking the subsequent hurdles, Donna's mind-set was beginning to take on the desire to not be in this struggle at all, anymore. The harder I tried to make things better, the more she was inclined to be like the tortoise and retreat deeper and deeper inside her shell. These last few years, in particular, have been difficult for the both of us; in responding toward each other, as well as other family members. The strain was evident; even the kids were seeing it. It was getting to the point where Philip outwardly expressed to me his reluctance to even want to come over to the house, anymore.
With this as the vale that has been draped across our relationship for some time now, I suspected our 36th Wedding Anniversary was going to be anything but festive. I had such a feeling even at the onset of Tuesday, 9 August 2011, because there was no inkling of any fanfare in the air, whatsoever. In the past, there always was. It would usually start with an exchange of Cards. This was something that was very important to Donna. And to be honest, it was a means of expression that I very early on had learned to appreciate as a way of putting emphasis on the desired effect I were trying to impart. There had been some talk, in the previous week of cashing in on a HUTCH'S Restaurant gift-certificate as a way of at least spending some time together in a public place and that maybe through an experience like this, some redemptive qualities might surface. My thought was that I would make one last effort at salvation before I would boldly initiate a life-changing decision.
The gloom of the day was only exacerbated by a lengthy conversation that did transpire in the late afternoon. The gloom, evolved into doom. The summation of what was said translated to more bitterness, more angst, and more recoiling from any gesture I may have attempted at reconciliation. The denouement; she had disclosed that while she had bought me some 'gifts', she had not gotten me a Card. She added that there were none that conveyed her feelings. I placed the two enveloped-cards that I had gotten, on her pillow as I was getting up to conclude the meeting in the bedroom. As I passed her I said that I will leave the cards here. I added that 'you' can do with them what you want. You can read them when you want, you can put them away with the others in the keepsake, or just plain place them in Andrew's shredder. Later that Tuesday evening, during a subdued supper together at the kitchen table, Donna did disclose that she had read the cards, and that "they were nice."
Thirty-eight years of history. The reason; children. The season; nurturing & maintenance. Lifetime; the time-line of this 'life'.
I spent all day of Wednesday 10 August, thinking about everything; I mean everything. The angst, the avoidance, the tension, the bitterness, the possibilities. It is obvious neither one of us is happy. Lou, I thought, just be the man you ought to be, and just do what needs to be done. There is no 'eternity'. This 'life' is over.
When in the course of humanity; in the course of a relationship, it becomes necessary for a couple to remove the bonds that have held them together...a decency to the respect of each others wholesomeness and disposition, that an appropriate course of action should be encouraged, pursued, and effected. I hold that such truths are self-evident; that we both have equal expression in our relationship, and with the sanctity of Our Creator, we both were granted with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
Life~~~in the sharing, there is no life---only shunning.
Liberty~~~in making choices; they are done unilaterally. There is an inherent vastness of the loneliness in such an experience.
The pursuit of happiness. Neither one of us---is happy. I am at my best when I am happy. And by the same token Donna is at her best, when she is happy.
Late Thursday afternoon of 11 AUGUST, 2011, I asked Donna to join me in the TV room. I knew we would have some 'quiet' time, because Erica was still running some errands in preparation for the evening going-away dinner. And Andrew, and Nicole were still at their respective workplaces.
I wanted to make sure that all of this would maintain as positive an intonation as possible. I didn't want any bitterness, or anything that would leave a sour taste in anybody's mouth. I mentioned to Donna that I want you happy; that you deserve to be happy, and that you are at your best when you are happy. To that, I added; just as I feel Donna, that I am at my best when I am happy. I can tell, I went on, that this just is not working any more. You are sad, you are bitter, and the harder I try, the more you draw into the tortoise shell of yours. I added, to throw some humor into the serious atmosphere, that you are so deep in that shell, you are not even two-rooms, or two-floors removed anymore!! She smiled. For the first time, in a long time, I felt that maybe we were getting somewhere, So I continued. I want you happy. I know you have many years yet and I know the importance of having this time and your experiences, shared.
Toward this end, Donna, I am releasing you, I am letting you go.
You are permitted to go and pursue what you feel is important and desirable to be shared in your life. Take your time; make sure your choice, or choices are right ones, but in the mean time, you can still consider this your home. But I am letting you go; I reiterated again. You have no obligation to me at all. I, of course, reminded her that we have immediate-family, and extended-family, that is going to have to come to terms with the sticker-shock, so be somewhat low-key as you are pursing your interests. Whatever unfolds, we will take it as it comes; an open marriage. The door is opened to Donna, and she was very very appreciative, and openly expressed her happiness to me. She expressed thank-yous a couple of times throughout my comments, and kissed my hand as well. She seemed genuinely relieved of what she felt entrapped in, a form of bondage if you will. I would go so far as to say that she was elated at being given the new lease on life. She actually seemed friendlier at Erica's going-back-to-college dinner-party the Family enjoyed that same Thursday evening at Amici's Restaurant. Donna sat next to me, and was refreshingly as her former self, carrying on lively and engaging conversations---with me. Of course, the bitter pill for me personally, was crawling into our marriage-bed at the end of the night, knowing that this new world I had given to Donna, was going to still leave me alone, on my side of the bed.
With the open-marriage, there is no doubt that Donna will seek to explore, and travel.
Along the way, I suspect she will find out two things. She will find what she is looking for. And along the way, I am sure she will find out that I wasn't as much the antagonist as she may have thought.
Where am I in all this?!?!? Considering that I am even able to sort through, and articulate this much, in the stillness of the eye of the hurricane, is mind-boggling. This is being formulated just days in the wake of when all of this had just transpired. Obviously, this will take some time to get a grip on.
Which is probably just as well, because I'm going to have to figure my course-of-action for the remainder of my lifetime, too.
...work still in progress
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise
Friday, August 12, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
We Do Celebrate Birthdays On Friday; Except...
Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show...(the opening lines of David Copperfield as written by Charles Dickens;inspired by MTM). Or at least this ACCOUNT will, perhaps, have a reflection on whether I'm going to be the hero in my own life.
Love is the emblem of eternity;
it confounds all notions of time;
effaces all memory of beginning,
all fear of an end.
- Madame de Stael -
Nicole's birthday was. of course, last Thursday---21, July. She wanted to celebrate it on a more personal basis, so she spent the day including Brooke Lyn in her activities. And I think some time was spent on the road of reconciliation with Brian. Don't quote me on this, but I think this was the case. In the process, it was decided that we, as a family, would celebrate Nicole's birthday on Friday. Even as Fridays are laced with 'agendas', apparently we were going to recognize Nicole birthday on a Friday, 22 July.
Recognize!?!? We ended up going Big-Time!! It was Nicole's birthday, after all~~~so it was going to be her choice. The choice was completely unexpected. But having had the chance to experience ALL of its aspects, I thought it was an excellent choice. So much so, that I now have it as a mental file-card in my head as a top-shelf place to have a dinner, and enjoy the food, the atmosphere, and the accommodations~~~both inside the restaurant---as well as outside the restaurant. The outside of the restaurant has a lounge setup on a deck, that is attached to the restaurant, overlooking the pristine Buffalo Harbor waterfront!! In effect, Nicole's birthday was celebrated on a Friday---and it was celebrated on a grand scale. The name of the restaurant is Templeton Landing
2 Templeton Terrace
Buffalo, NY 14202 http://www.templetonlanding.com
Email: gmunit86@srcmail.com
Phone: (716) 852-7337
Templeton Landing
writes...
Drop an anchor at Buffalo's finest full-service waterfront restaurant establishment. Templeton Landing. We are proud to feature a fun and friendly atmosphere that is accentuated by our cozy patio fire places, and our classic waterfront decor. Enjoy our new menu offerings that are signature regional favorites, and classic recipes from Western New York. On our two level patio, we will entertain you and your friends throughout the summer with live music, good cheer and our attentive team service. The excitement will continue throughout the winter months with cozy dining and bar offerings that will make staying home during the colder months a thing of the past. Our restaurant is a world class destination that has been designed and built with the guest's experience at the heart. We know you will enjoy everything we have to offer. Great memories, wonderful food, and friendly service make Templeton Landing your favorite place to land in Buffalo. Cheers!
How is this a reflection on my birthday; the point?? Only this. My birthday; my 60th birthday(in some minds, considered a milepost), was celebrated alone. I take note of so many of my friends that as well are at the 60-year-old-plateau, and how they are recognizing it. It isn't so much that it was my birthday; I had 59 of these already. It was just that I was given to feel that no recognition was needed; I didn't exist. We do celebrate birthdays on Fridays, except mine.
At this point, we will call this~~~water over the dam.
On Sunday, 24 July, we visited Templeton Landing, again. The reason, you ask?!?! The Marconi Family had some very important visitors in town for the week-end. They were USMC fox-hole mate of USMC Corporal Philip Marconi, Jason Roland. Along with Jason, was his cousin Valerie Roland, and Jason's God-father, Bill Roland. It was, for the most part, a crash-week-end where a bunch of stuff was spontaneously put together, and was done with the Rolands, and Philip. When Sunday came around, we were able to do a couple of things that actually included---the two families. The first was taking it an afternoon Class A baseball game which included Philip playing in. He was able to play at SS, which is his preferred position to play. And, he was able to play the whole game. On the other Class A club he plays for, he is often platooned, and when he does play, it is the right-field position. But with The Buffalos---he played well defensively, did respectable at the plate, and was contributory in run production to have the Buffalos win a closely contested affair. With Sunday being the last full day that the Rolands were going to be in Buffalo, I wanted to do something special. The Rolands are special people; Jason Roland in particular, so I wanted to something to make a favorable first-impression, as well as a lasting-impression. The two families were going to have dinner together. The question was---where??? The weather was beautiful, the company was warm, friendly, and congenial, and except for Erica being in Chicago, IL with the Amico side of the family, all of the Marconis were present; and accounted for!! I figured, what I had in mind, was going to be a 'NATURAL'. Buffalo is the Queen City. We sit on a beautiful Buffalo Harbor waterfront. What better place to enjoy a good dinner, and surroundings that are value-added to the atmosphere, than Templeton Landing. Bill Roland was so caught-up in the experience that at one point, he even asked: How did Buffalo, get named Buffalo---especially since it is known that the Plains Buffalo never roamed this far east of the Mississippi River. I was thrilled to oblige with the answer!!
Beau Fleuve's History:
Beau Fleuve (pronounced Bo Fluhve) means Beautiful River. It was the name said to have been given to our area by early French explorer-traders. Because non-French speakers had trouble pronouncing it, Beau Fleuve became simplified to Buffalo.
I made it a point to validate this perspective on a social networking site because I sensed that the explanation was not being recognized by everyone in attendance; I think there was a doubting-Thomas, if you will. The whole experience was extraordinary. As we suppered, the sun was setting. It was surreal being in the midst of such a setting that was almost transformational.
What was so pleasing to me, as well, was that that the facility was so scooter-friendly.
While I would be downtown Monday 25 July, Philip would take Monday off from his work-place so that he could spend some more time with the Rolands. They wanted to see Niagara Falls, and get a bite-to-eat, before heading back toward Lake Placid, NY.
For me personally, I was so very happy that the Rolands, and in particular Jason, was given a very receptive welcome and embrace. His life hasn't been the greatest since he left the USMC. I am sure that there is a thought that floats often in his head wondering if leaving the USMC was a wise choice. I mean, when you are not deployed, and dodging bullets all day, one gets housing, 3-square-meals-a-day, and a regular pay check. As long as you mind your pees-and-queues, you are part of a functional self-contained community. Do this for 20 years, and you now have a vested pension that you can immediately draw from.
The private sector is not so predictable. And that unpredictability hasn't favored Jason. What I am trying to say, is that if he is having one of his 'down' times, he has a family that he can come to and spend some time with, to recharge his batteries.
Tuesday 26 July, I went to QUEST to submit another vile of blood for another PSA reading. It is hoped and prayed that the 'reading' is a favorable one. And I paid another visit to the friendly confines of the local SSA Office. The intent is to Continue to bring in the ECBOE statements. My concern is that these statement-levels are higher than the TWP cut-off amounts. I will have to make some kind course-correction on all of this, probably by the end of the year. This at least gives me a window to assess, and that gives me some time to decide on a course-of-action.
CODEX~~~Have to pray hard for a couple of matters. One is the above. Another has to do with a very very dear friend, who is carrying a very very heavy heart at this time. I have You in my thoughts and prayers; always.
CODEX: Strength; serious accusation
Wednesday 27 July, spent the day downtown; and actually talked to Sandy M. I was surprised that she was this open, because we really haven't spent much time together at all. Like me, she WAS on Social Security Disability. I was so confused because she is a FULL-TIME employee. So obviously, the question begged to be asked. How are you on SSDI and working full-time. What she had to do---was give up her SSDI. This was some time ago, already that she had to do this. In having this continued conversation with Sandy, the other thing that was upsetting to me a bit, was that the rules had changed. When she was P/T @ the ECBOE, and getting SSDI, the two-for-one-deal, was in effect. Sadly, it now is not. At least not on a volunteer basis. It is only available as a 'lottery' pick. And this sucks, because I went all the way to Senator Charles E. Schumer to see if the SSA could be 'tweaked' so that I would be a 'lottery' participant. Even he couldn't shake anything loose from the vine, on my behalf. In effect, in this two-for-one-deal, was is allowed to happen is that for every two dollars one makes over the cut-off, one dollar is returned back to SSA. You can still work, and keep your SSDI; you just return half of the overage, back to SSA. What this would mean for me, is that I can continue to keep my head above water, and still hold on to my group health insurance plan which would include Donna, and Erica as long as she remains a full-time student.
But---I don't have this two-for-one-deal available, so now I may, at 60 years old, and a cripple, approach the ECBOE to see if a F/T position is available. In effect, this will put my SSDI in suspended animation, but I will have a health insurance plan. If I ask for reduced hours to get below the cut-off, I will no longer be an RPT(regular part-time) classification, so I will have to waive participation in the health insurance program. It is so maddening. I paid into this all my life, and at 60 years old, and acutely walking impaired, I am still having to fight to attain and hold onto anything.
But Hey!!! My health insurance plan now has myself a mouth-full of teeth---to die for!! When I went in to get my teeth cleaned in May, Dr Hannon comes in subsequently, to discuss my X-rays. He mentions that the insurance will cover it, so~~~'we' are going to take care of the two chipped molars in the upper left. Seriously!?!? Are you kidding??? These are two chipped molars that I have had chipped from football, when I was a teenager, for God's sake. They haven't bothered me for all these years. Now that I'm in the zenith of my life, and am more concerned about my walking impairedness, I am going to have a vanity-fair mouthful of teeth. So Thursday 28 July, I go to Dr Hannon's office, and get this done.
Later that same Thursday, I paid another visit to Dr Bennett's DeGraff Wellness Center location to demonstrate how well I have integrated the reciprocating walker into my everyday activity. She was very very impressed with how quickly I desired to assimilate the whole process into my lifestyle. She paid particular attention to the detail of how I, and Ellen of HOME DEPOT, 'created' the hooking apparatus on the back of my basket to carry the walker around for me, on the backside of my scooter. She told me to continue using the reciprocating walker until the one I ordered from Sheridan Surgical, comes in. And she was also impressed that I have the trial-day with the baclofen-pump implant, already set up as well. That, of course, is Thursday 18 August, 2011.
There is just so many concerns on this plate right now; Room for Dessert?!?!?
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise
NB: The one whom one would've always implicitly thought to be trusted; to be supportive~~~to be standing by another's side would instead, in a confrontational tone---remark: You have your upper-body-strength; otherwise, I'd be stronger than you. This certainly had me taken aback. I thank God that by-and-large, I can get myself beyond the petty innuendos, and still see myself as "The Little Engine That Could."
Love is the emblem of eternity;
it confounds all notions of time;
effaces all memory of beginning,
all fear of an end.
- Madame de Stael -
Nicole's birthday was. of course, last Thursday---21, July. She wanted to celebrate it on a more personal basis, so she spent the day including Brooke Lyn in her activities. And I think some time was spent on the road of reconciliation with Brian. Don't quote me on this, but I think this was the case. In the process, it was decided that we, as a family, would celebrate Nicole's birthday on Friday. Even as Fridays are laced with 'agendas', apparently we were going to recognize Nicole birthday on a Friday, 22 July.
Recognize!?!? We ended up going Big-Time!! It was Nicole's birthday, after all~~~so it was going to be her choice. The choice was completely unexpected. But having had the chance to experience ALL of its aspects, I thought it was an excellent choice. So much so, that I now have it as a mental file-card in my head as a top-shelf place to have a dinner, and enjoy the food, the atmosphere, and the accommodations~~~both inside the restaurant---as well as outside the restaurant. The outside of the restaurant has a lounge setup on a deck, that is attached to the restaurant, overlooking the pristine Buffalo Harbor waterfront!! In effect, Nicole's birthday was celebrated on a Friday---and it was celebrated on a grand scale. The name of the restaurant is Templeton Landing
2 Templeton Terrace
Buffalo, NY 14202 http://www.templetonlanding.com
Email: gmunit86@srcmail.com
Phone: (716) 852-7337
Templeton Landing
writes...
Drop an anchor at Buffalo's finest full-service waterfront restaurant establishment. Templeton Landing. We are proud to feature a fun and friendly atmosphere that is accentuated by our cozy patio fire places, and our classic waterfront decor. Enjoy our new menu offerings that are signature regional favorites, and classic recipes from Western New York. On our two level patio, we will entertain you and your friends throughout the summer with live music, good cheer and our attentive team service. The excitement will continue throughout the winter months with cozy dining and bar offerings that will make staying home during the colder months a thing of the past. Our restaurant is a world class destination that has been designed and built with the guest's experience at the heart. We know you will enjoy everything we have to offer. Great memories, wonderful food, and friendly service make Templeton Landing your favorite place to land in Buffalo. Cheers!
How is this a reflection on my birthday; the point?? Only this. My birthday; my 60th birthday(in some minds, considered a milepost), was celebrated alone. I take note of so many of my friends that as well are at the 60-year-old-plateau, and how they are recognizing it. It isn't so much that it was my birthday; I had 59 of these already. It was just that I was given to feel that no recognition was needed; I didn't exist. We do celebrate birthdays on Fridays, except mine.
At this point, we will call this~~~water over the dam.
On Sunday, 24 July, we visited Templeton Landing, again. The reason, you ask?!?! The Marconi Family had some very important visitors in town for the week-end. They were USMC fox-hole mate of USMC Corporal Philip Marconi, Jason Roland. Along with Jason, was his cousin Valerie Roland, and Jason's God-father, Bill Roland. It was, for the most part, a crash-week-end where a bunch of stuff was spontaneously put together, and was done with the Rolands, and Philip. When Sunday came around, we were able to do a couple of things that actually included---the two families. The first was taking it an afternoon Class A baseball game which included Philip playing in. He was able to play at SS, which is his preferred position to play. And, he was able to play the whole game. On the other Class A club he plays for, he is often platooned, and when he does play, it is the right-field position. But with The Buffalos---he played well defensively, did respectable at the plate, and was contributory in run production to have the Buffalos win a closely contested affair. With Sunday being the last full day that the Rolands were going to be in Buffalo, I wanted to do something special. The Rolands are special people; Jason Roland in particular, so I wanted to something to make a favorable first-impression, as well as a lasting-impression. The two families were going to have dinner together. The question was---where??? The weather was beautiful, the company was warm, friendly, and congenial, and except for Erica being in Chicago, IL with the Amico side of the family, all of the Marconis were present; and accounted for!! I figured, what I had in mind, was going to be a 'NATURAL'. Buffalo is the Queen City. We sit on a beautiful Buffalo Harbor waterfront. What better place to enjoy a good dinner, and surroundings that are value-added to the atmosphere, than Templeton Landing. Bill Roland was so caught-up in the experience that at one point, he even asked: How did Buffalo, get named Buffalo---especially since it is known that the Plains Buffalo never roamed this far east of the Mississippi River. I was thrilled to oblige with the answer!!
Beau Fleuve's History:
Beau Fleuve (pronounced Bo Fluhve) means Beautiful River. It was the name said to have been given to our area by early French explorer-traders. Because non-French speakers had trouble pronouncing it, Beau Fleuve became simplified to Buffalo.
I made it a point to validate this perspective on a social networking site because I sensed that the explanation was not being recognized by everyone in attendance; I think there was a doubting-Thomas, if you will. The whole experience was extraordinary. As we suppered, the sun was setting. It was surreal being in the midst of such a setting that was almost transformational.
What was so pleasing to me, as well, was that that the facility was so scooter-friendly.
While I would be downtown Monday 25 July, Philip would take Monday off from his work-place so that he could spend some more time with the Rolands. They wanted to see Niagara Falls, and get a bite-to-eat, before heading back toward Lake Placid, NY.
For me personally, I was so very happy that the Rolands, and in particular Jason, was given a very receptive welcome and embrace. His life hasn't been the greatest since he left the USMC. I am sure that there is a thought that floats often in his head wondering if leaving the USMC was a wise choice. I mean, when you are not deployed, and dodging bullets all day, one gets housing, 3-square-meals-a-day, and a regular pay check. As long as you mind your pees-and-queues, you are part of a functional self-contained community. Do this for 20 years, and you now have a vested pension that you can immediately draw from.
The private sector is not so predictable. And that unpredictability hasn't favored Jason. What I am trying to say, is that if he is having one of his 'down' times, he has a family that he can come to and spend some time with, to recharge his batteries.
Tuesday 26 July, I went to QUEST to submit another vile of blood for another PSA reading. It is hoped and prayed that the 'reading' is a favorable one. And I paid another visit to the friendly confines of the local SSA Office. The intent is to Continue to bring in the ECBOE statements. My concern is that these statement-levels are higher than the TWP cut-off amounts. I will have to make some kind course-correction on all of this, probably by the end of the year. This at least gives me a window to assess, and that gives me some time to decide on a course-of-action.
CODEX~~~Have to pray hard for a couple of matters. One is the above. Another has to do with a very very dear friend, who is carrying a very very heavy heart at this time. I have You in my thoughts and prayers; always.
CODEX: Strength; serious accusation
Wednesday 27 July, spent the day downtown; and actually talked to Sandy M. I was surprised that she was this open, because we really haven't spent much time together at all. Like me, she WAS on Social Security Disability. I was so confused because she is a FULL-TIME employee. So obviously, the question begged to be asked. How are you on SSDI and working full-time. What she had to do---was give up her SSDI. This was some time ago, already that she had to do this. In having this continued conversation with Sandy, the other thing that was upsetting to me a bit, was that the rules had changed. When she was P/T @ the ECBOE, and getting SSDI, the two-for-one-deal, was in effect. Sadly, it now is not. At least not on a volunteer basis. It is only available as a 'lottery' pick. And this sucks, because I went all the way to Senator Charles E. Schumer to see if the SSA could be 'tweaked' so that I would be a 'lottery' participant. Even he couldn't shake anything loose from the vine, on my behalf. In effect, in this two-for-one-deal, was is allowed to happen is that for every two dollars one makes over the cut-off, one dollar is returned back to SSA. You can still work, and keep your SSDI; you just return half of the overage, back to SSA. What this would mean for me, is that I can continue to keep my head above water, and still hold on to my group health insurance plan which would include Donna, and Erica as long as she remains a full-time student.
But---I don't have this two-for-one-deal available, so now I may, at 60 years old, and a cripple, approach the ECBOE to see if a F/T position is available. In effect, this will put my SSDI in suspended animation, but I will have a health insurance plan. If I ask for reduced hours to get below the cut-off, I will no longer be an RPT(regular part-time) classification, so I will have to waive participation in the health insurance program. It is so maddening. I paid into this all my life, and at 60 years old, and acutely walking impaired, I am still having to fight to attain and hold onto anything.
But Hey!!! My health insurance plan now has myself a mouth-full of teeth---to die for!! When I went in to get my teeth cleaned in May, Dr Hannon comes in subsequently, to discuss my X-rays. He mentions that the insurance will cover it, so~~~'we' are going to take care of the two chipped molars in the upper left. Seriously!?!? Are you kidding??? These are two chipped molars that I have had chipped from football, when I was a teenager, for God's sake. They haven't bothered me for all these years. Now that I'm in the zenith of my life, and am more concerned about my walking impairedness, I am going to have a vanity-fair mouthful of teeth. So Thursday 28 July, I go to Dr Hannon's office, and get this done.
Later that same Thursday, I paid another visit to Dr Bennett's DeGraff Wellness Center location to demonstrate how well I have integrated the reciprocating walker into my everyday activity. She was very very impressed with how quickly I desired to assimilate the whole process into my lifestyle. She paid particular attention to the detail of how I, and Ellen of HOME DEPOT, 'created' the hooking apparatus on the back of my basket to carry the walker around for me, on the backside of my scooter. She told me to continue using the reciprocating walker until the one I ordered from Sheridan Surgical, comes in. And she was also impressed that I have the trial-day with the baclofen-pump implant, already set up as well. That, of course, is Thursday 18 August, 2011.
There is just so many concerns on this plate right now; Room for Dessert?!?!?
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise
NB: The one whom one would've always implicitly thought to be trusted; to be supportive~~~to be standing by another's side would instead, in a confrontational tone---remark: You have your upper-body-strength; otherwise, I'd be stronger than you. This certainly had me taken aback. I thank God that by-and-large, I can get myself beyond the petty innuendos, and still see myself as "The Little Engine That Could."
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Reciprocating Walker??
Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show...(the opening lines of David Copperfield as written by Charles Dickens;inspired by MTM). Or at least this ACCOUNT will, perhaps, have a reflection on whether I'm going to be the hero in my own life.
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me~~~My Immortal; Evanescense
On Friday, 15 July, 2011 I have this doctor's appointment at the U B Neurological Clinic. It is affiliated with The Dent Neurological Clinic in Amherst, NY. I am to see a neurological surgeon to discuss the implantation of a pump. Almost immediately, I am overwhelmed. I am sure it is because my layman's mind is just that; a simple one. In part, this is because besides Dr. Robert Plunkett in the meeting, there was also a physical therapist as well; Dr. Susan Bennett. Before Dr. Plunkett gets far into the technical explanation of the surgery, he asks that I allow Dr Bennett to go-to-town on me. She is asking me to do all these different types of lower-limb positions. She invariably, has to aid in having me assuming some of these positions because I just don't have the ability to do so on my own. As I am doing these, she is calling-off, for Plunkett to note, different score; tension-point numbers.
Once this is concluded, both Doctors now want to actually see me walk. Both are very absorbed by the acute degree of spasticity, how turned-in my feet are at the ankle as I struggle to get the one gait to drag itself ahead of the other, while I laboriously try to keep myself upright with the aid of two canes. Bennett does not like what she is seeing. Yes!! I know!! Which part!?!? She tells me..."you won't be using those canes, when you will be 'trialing' this pump, all day, at The Buffalo General Hospital." She adds..."we are going to trial this all day, to see your reaction to the baclofen dosages." "You will need to have something steady and trusting to keep you upright, in case the dosage does impact you to where you are feeling groggy or drowsy."
She then asks..."have you ever heard of a Reciprocating Walker???" By now I am thinking~~~"Lou, you are in---so over your head." And additionally---"what in God's name is a reciprocating walker???" Is this going to be my next 'steady' piece of equipment?? How much is this going to cost??? Don't worry Jesus---I still Love You!! Gggrrr!!
Plunkett and Bennett ask me to sit back down on the gurney. They can tell, by now, I am an information-overload wasteland. Bennett jumps in to try to get me focused again. What she wants me to do is to arrange for an appointment at her DeGraff Wellness Center. There, she will show me this reciprocating walker, and 'walk' me through its various aspects, including actually having me use one so that I can feel comfortable with it. This is, of course, because this will be the apparatus that I am going to be using during my trial day with the baclofen 'pump' at the Buffalo General Hospital.
Among other things, I have to find out how one obtains these. Preliminary investigations indicate that these are not cheap. It is not like going to the local Ivy Lea Pharmacy and buying a $69.00 cane. Does the Wellness Center rent these; rent to buy?? Do health insurance plans provide some relief?? Does the Wellness Center sell these at a discount?? Is what I am doing part of a "UNIVERSITY" study?? Is there some cost relief, or in-kind gestures afforded me, because of this??
Time-will-tell on this one. An appointment is arranged for Thursday 21 July, 2011 @ 15:15PM, through Michelle, for the DeGraff Wellness Center. There, I will be working first-hand with Dr. Susan Bennett. To make sure that as many people as possible are involved with this learning curve, I have made it a point to make sure that Donna will accompany me on this meeting. The struggle that is a part & parcel of my existence, is often perceived differently from the ivory tower, than from seeing it first-hand, at the ground-level.
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me~~~My Immortal; Evanescense
On Friday, 15 July, 2011 I have this doctor's appointment at the U B Neurological Clinic. It is affiliated with The Dent Neurological Clinic in Amherst, NY. I am to see a neurological surgeon to discuss the implantation of a pump. Almost immediately, I am overwhelmed. I am sure it is because my layman's mind is just that; a simple one. In part, this is because besides Dr. Robert Plunkett in the meeting, there was also a physical therapist as well; Dr. Susan Bennett. Before Dr. Plunkett gets far into the technical explanation of the surgery, he asks that I allow Dr Bennett to go-to-town on me. She is asking me to do all these different types of lower-limb positions. She invariably, has to aid in having me assuming some of these positions because I just don't have the ability to do so on my own. As I am doing these, she is calling-off, for Plunkett to note, different score; tension-point numbers.
Once this is concluded, both Doctors now want to actually see me walk. Both are very absorbed by the acute degree of spasticity, how turned-in my feet are at the ankle as I struggle to get the one gait to drag itself ahead of the other, while I laboriously try to keep myself upright with the aid of two canes. Bennett does not like what she is seeing. Yes!! I know!! Which part!?!? She tells me..."you won't be using those canes, when you will be 'trialing' this pump, all day, at The Buffalo General Hospital." She adds..."we are going to trial this all day, to see your reaction to the baclofen dosages." "You will need to have something steady and trusting to keep you upright, in case the dosage does impact you to where you are feeling groggy or drowsy."
She then asks..."have you ever heard of a Reciprocating Walker???" By now I am thinking~~~"Lou, you are in---so over your head." And additionally---"what in God's name is a reciprocating walker???" Is this going to be my next 'steady' piece of equipment?? How much is this going to cost??? Don't worry Jesus---I still Love You!! Gggrrr!!
Plunkett and Bennett ask me to sit back down on the gurney. They can tell, by now, I am an information-overload wasteland. Bennett jumps in to try to get me focused again. What she wants me to do is to arrange for an appointment at her DeGraff Wellness Center. There, she will show me this reciprocating walker, and 'walk' me through its various aspects, including actually having me use one so that I can feel comfortable with it. This is, of course, because this will be the apparatus that I am going to be using during my trial day with the baclofen 'pump' at the Buffalo General Hospital.
Among other things, I have to find out how one obtains these. Preliminary investigations indicate that these are not cheap. It is not like going to the local Ivy Lea Pharmacy and buying a $69.00 cane. Does the Wellness Center rent these; rent to buy?? Do health insurance plans provide some relief?? Does the Wellness Center sell these at a discount?? Is what I am doing part of a "UNIVERSITY" study?? Is there some cost relief, or in-kind gestures afforded me, because of this??
Time-will-tell on this one. An appointment is arranged for Thursday 21 July, 2011 @ 15:15PM, through Michelle, for the DeGraff Wellness Center. There, I will be working first-hand with Dr. Susan Bennett. To make sure that as many people as possible are involved with this learning curve, I have made it a point to make sure that Donna will accompany me on this meeting. The struggle that is a part & parcel of my existence, is often perceived differently from the ivory tower, than from seeing it first-hand, at the ground-level.
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise
Saturday, July 9, 2011
A Man Scorned...
Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show...(the opening lines of David Copperfield as written by Charles Dickens;inspired by MTM). Or at least this ACCOUNT will, perhaps, have a reflection on whether I'm going to be the hero in my own life.
...A man who came to my valley
A man I hardly knew
A man who came to my garden
Grew to love me
A girl I saw in a valley
A girl I hardly knew
A girl at work in her garden
Grew to love me
From the gate
He called out so kindly
"Lass, wouldst thou 'low me
Rest here, I've ridden quite far"
"Share my tea"
She bade me so gently
Oatcakes and cream
Sweet plums in a jar...Secret Garden Lyrics » A Girl In The Valley
She toils through the incessant unforgiving heat of the overhead sun. As the time laboriously crawls its way into the late afternoon, the madame of the house is still on hands and knees with the gardening and weeding that her sense of urgency has her still undertaking. It is well into summer and she wants to get the landscape of the household fine-tooth-combed.
The madame is wearing a thin gauze pullover garment for comfort. It is cotton and is stitched in a manner that allows the subtle hint of her body's silhouette and accents to be suggested. The elastic bands cinch her at the waist. And again at the top, where the garment gives her bronzed neck and shoulders to the glow of the sun.
With the garment allowing the ease of movement, the labor of the tasks that the madame is undertaking, the unforgiving sun, and the humid standing-still air, has the garment clinging to her bosom, because of the sweat that is profusely beading from her every pore.
The elastic band stitched in the gauze garment around her waist cinches the garment so that her form takes on that of the hourglass. The view offers a primal appeal that can easily have the eye resting on this subject for a very elongated 'moment'. What is left of the pullover drapes down just beyond the hindquarters and thighs. What is revealed are the bronzed shapely limbs; legs that have a glistening, glowing tinge layered over them from the sweat that is emanating from her because the sun is still high over the sky in which it is resting. The madame is kneeling prone giving her the stability on the one hand, and the mobility on the other, that is needed as she prods along with the tasks she is so immersed in.
Being otherwise barefoot, the madame's dark brunette hair is tautly drawn back so that there exists a very generous bun resting on the back of her head allowing her to easily wipe away, with the palm of her hand, the droplets of sweat that continuously bead onto her forehead.
As the man of the house comes from his activities and errands in the downtown area, he becomes keenly aware of all of the work and effort that has transpired on his property to have the landscape, and the appointments become so alive, so vibrant, and with such an eye for a balanced symmetry. And being an earthbound part of humanity, he sees as well, how spent, and yet how sensual his madame appears persevering through the day working so closely with mother-nature. Above and beyond everything else, the madame wanted to see, by the end results, that mother-nature would bestow on madame, the seal-of-approval.
The man of the house wanted to offer his seal of approval, as well.
In the driveway of their property, he presented to her, her favorite; a freshly prepared pink Rose.
As the man of the house was presenting this rose of recognition, he added; "this is to thank you for all of the work that is very evident."
With a very removed, and reserved facial expression; with no responsive warmth or glow attached to the expression at all---as my expectation anticipated, she gave a low hesitating 'thank you', turned, and Walked Away.
The Scorn; its continuation...
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise
...A man who came to my valley
A man I hardly knew
A man who came to my garden
Grew to love me
A girl I saw in a valley
A girl I hardly knew
A girl at work in her garden
Grew to love me
From the gate
He called out so kindly
"Lass, wouldst thou 'low me
Rest here, I've ridden quite far"
"Share my tea"
She bade me so gently
Oatcakes and cream
Sweet plums in a jar...Secret Garden Lyrics » A Girl In The Valley
She toils through the incessant unforgiving heat of the overhead sun. As the time laboriously crawls its way into the late afternoon, the madame of the house is still on hands and knees with the gardening and weeding that her sense of urgency has her still undertaking. It is well into summer and she wants to get the landscape of the household fine-tooth-combed.
The madame is wearing a thin gauze pullover garment for comfort. It is cotton and is stitched in a manner that allows the subtle hint of her body's silhouette and accents to be suggested. The elastic bands cinch her at the waist. And again at the top, where the garment gives her bronzed neck and shoulders to the glow of the sun.
With the garment allowing the ease of movement, the labor of the tasks that the madame is undertaking, the unforgiving sun, and the humid standing-still air, has the garment clinging to her bosom, because of the sweat that is profusely beading from her every pore.
The elastic band stitched in the gauze garment around her waist cinches the garment so that her form takes on that of the hourglass. The view offers a primal appeal that can easily have the eye resting on this subject for a very elongated 'moment'. What is left of the pullover drapes down just beyond the hindquarters and thighs. What is revealed are the bronzed shapely limbs; legs that have a glistening, glowing tinge layered over them from the sweat that is emanating from her because the sun is still high over the sky in which it is resting. The madame is kneeling prone giving her the stability on the one hand, and the mobility on the other, that is needed as she prods along with the tasks she is so immersed in.
Being otherwise barefoot, the madame's dark brunette hair is tautly drawn back so that there exists a very generous bun resting on the back of her head allowing her to easily wipe away, with the palm of her hand, the droplets of sweat that continuously bead onto her forehead.
As the man of the house comes from his activities and errands in the downtown area, he becomes keenly aware of all of the work and effort that has transpired on his property to have the landscape, and the appointments become so alive, so vibrant, and with such an eye for a balanced symmetry. And being an earthbound part of humanity, he sees as well, how spent, and yet how sensual his madame appears persevering through the day working so closely with mother-nature. Above and beyond everything else, the madame wanted to see, by the end results, that mother-nature would bestow on madame, the seal-of-approval.
The man of the house wanted to offer his seal of approval, as well.
In the driveway of their property, he presented to her, her favorite; a freshly prepared pink Rose.
As the man of the house was presenting this rose of recognition, he added; "this is to thank you for all of the work that is very evident."
With a very removed, and reserved facial expression; with no responsive warmth or glow attached to the expression at all---as my expectation anticipated, she gave a low hesitating 'thank you', turned, and Walked Away.
The Scorn; its continuation...
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise
Friday, July 1, 2011
The Gale Has Swept In...
Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show...(the opening lines of David Copperfield as written by Charles Dickens;inspired by MTM). Or at least this ACCOUNT will, perhaps, have a reflection on whether I'm going to be the hero in my own life.
...It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death! The closing paragraph of the; Give Me Liberty, Or Give Me Death---speech, by Patrick Henry
Because the Arizona summers were getting increasing difficult, Barry Goodwin & his wife Kathy have bought a summer condo in East Amherst, NY. The significance; you ask?? Well---Barry went to Cathedral Grade School, and then Bishop Fallon High School; class of 1969. With Barry having come back to Buffalo NY, this was decided to be an excellent reason to put another 'fellowship' together. Sue McKnight had suggested the DOCKSIDE ON THE CANAL---and it proved to be an excellent choice. We met @ 7:00PM on Tuesday 28 June, 2011. What was particularly impressive was that some new faces decided to join this rendezvous. Besides the regulars of Jim & Barbara Barrett and son Shamus, Blaine Wegrzynowski, Norb Warnes, Sue McKnight, and very belatedly Joe Barrile, that made the journey, we had a couple of newcomers who joined in, on the fun---Tommy Gannon, and Jimmy Eagan. The weather was great, the food was delicious, and the conversations were lively and spontaneous. I was not aware of it---at the time---but something very murky, had dropped into the mix, on the home-front of Tuesday; at 20:44PM---to be exact. The festivities adjourned at about 22:00PM. I left with a good feeling about the evening, the service by Justaline, and that I had, in effect, found another good location for subsequent rendezvous. And from a personal standpoint, I am eager to find out about Wednesdays, having to do with AMTRAK schedules, and the TRESTLE BRIDGE overpass on the Erie Canal part of Ellicott Creek. As a train-enthusiast, I was thrilled to see on Tuesday, twice during our stay, the AMTRAK passenger train passing by, in the N/B direction. One of them was the Empire State Express, and one of them had to be, The Maple Leaf Ltd!!
Wednesday 29 June, 2011---at least as I am progressing through the ECBOE activity, is pretty much going to plan. Once I get home, and settle-in, something very very unsettling, comes into focus. Like myself, when Andrew gets home from work, and he got in just a bit in front of me, he goes through a little bit of a routine. Included in the routine is catching up on some messages left on the phone voice-message system---that included messages from Tuesday. I, of course, was @ DOCKSIDE ON THE CANAL, on Tuesday---till late, and Donna & Andrew went to The Merge Restaurant for their supper, and got back late,as well.
The second message---the one that came in @ 20:44PM Tuesday---was bone-rattling, heart-racing, scary, and numbing. It was a message left by the family black-sheep; the one bad-apple---Margaret. The second youngest of eight, she is ten years my junior. To make a very very long story short, her life has been wasted on drugs and alcohol. In her younger years, she gave birth to two children. The first one was a boy named Paul. Because Margaret had failed as a mother with Paul, he was adopted by a family in Grand Isle, NY. The family Paul was adapted into, moved away from Grand Isle, and through FACEBOOK, recently reconnected with with his other sibling. Paul now resides in North Carolina. Margaret had a second child; a daughter, named Erica Christine. Margaret's attempt at mothering this child---failed miserably as well. We; Lou & Donna Marconi, stepped in and ADOPTED Erica. It was an especially long and arduous process because the State of New York's orientation toward adoptions is ALWAYS with deference to the biological mother. Because of this deference, it took us over ten years, to finally make the adoption official. In Judge Mattina's courtroom chambers, on 29 August, 2002---it became official. Over the years, Margaret would surface for an inquiring phone-call---and then, disappear again(which was fine by all of us; Erica included).
As I was listening to this recording, I just---went numb. The voice intonations are very very threatening. As each phrase is remarked, the intonations are punctuated with a more macabre, sinister, and bewitching threat-level, so that when she imposes her final word into her statement, I'll be honest with you---I can't say I have EVER HEARD THAT WORD SAID---THAT VOLATILE, before.
The TEXT of the message:
You Bunch of Assholes---
You Dirty Rotten Son of a Bitches---
I'm gonna Kill You---
And I'm gonna Ruin Your Property---
For What You Did To My Girl---
YOU SICK FUCKS.
What did I do?? What could I do?? Of course, the first thing I did was tell Andrew--NOT TO DELETE the message. With the message being so threatening and incriminating, it would be my intention to report this to the Kenmore Police Department, and determine what my options would be.
In due course of time, because we just kind of are this way; on a wing and a prayer, rather than having plans already set in place---Andrew wants to get an idea of whom all should he include in supper plans. Toward that end, he calls his mother to see if she is eating with us, or has already 'grabbed' something. She will do that sometimes when she is at one of her all-day cleaning jobs. While I wished he hadn't done this over the phone, he shared with his mother that we got a very nasty message from Margaret. Through the course of the conversation, she concurs---don't delete; we want to tell the police. Donna eventually gets home in due course of time. She had bought some groceries for salad and apparently caught-up with my sister Rose by cell-phone, on these hair-raising developments.
When she comes in to talk to me, having now just listened to the recording herself, she asks---did you call the police?? I replied--No. I quickly added why I did not. I detected a look on her face that suggested; well, why not. I explained that I was waiting for you to get home so we could 'close-ranks' and show a united-front. This dynamic that had just unfolded is a curious one because, based on this line of questioning by Donna, the status-quo of the interior of the house would have been suitable, at this time, to bring the police into. But then again, maybe not.
We decide to have supper first, and then afterwards, have the Kenmore Police department brought to the house. By now it is 20:30PM, when supper is finished. Donna now decides she wants to 'straightened-out' the house. Apparently it was alright earlier, but now, on second-thought, it needed to be squared-away.
At 21:00PM, officer D. Rule arrives. Like Joe Friday of DRAGNET, he wants to hear the recording immediately. As it is finishing, I even noticed his eyebrows drop a tab, as the last word of the message is expressed, with such vile emphasis. After this, Donna & I ask for him to listen to another message that, so ironically, is left on the machine---right after Margaret's. It is a message from Erica---and it is so alive, bubbly, and effervescent!! The officer, here as well, seemed to have a look on his face that concurred with our perspective: Margaret has it---ALL WRONG.
As he pulls out his report form to write it all down, he gives me, as the complainant, my options. Family Court---or Criminal Court. With this being a deadly threat, I choose Criminal Court; the charge, aggravated harassment.
While all of this is unfolding, as a united-front, Donna & I are sitting across from each other, at the kitchen table. Andrew is in the living-room, keeping Tootsie from being a distraction. At no time, does Donna decide to choose a chair alongside me, or at least reach across the table to take my hand---a physical gesture that says we are together in this. Remember earlier, I had reflected that Donna had given me the seal-of-approval to have the police come by, and that I would singularly handle the matter.
After the report is completed, and is turned over to me, he exits. In doing so, Donna accompanies him. And this is where I received another sad, in-effect, commentary to our reality.
I mean---My God, these were bone-jarring threats. At least from where I was positioned in all of this, I could have certainly used some gesture, some expression of humanity. And it certainly did not have to be intense or overbearing. I would have appreciated some supportive conversation, a hand being held, an arm around one another's shoulders. Something---anything, that might have said---We Will Get Through This Together.
Having come up the side-door stairs, Donna opens the refrigerator door and pours herself a glass or wine. She then turned her back to me and proceeds to the living room for the desk-top computer and a couple of hours of You-Tube exploration.
The turning of her back, and the walking away from me, had me, with my weighted thoughts at the kitchen-table~~~now alone & abandoned.
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise
...It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death! The closing paragraph of the; Give Me Liberty, Or Give Me Death---speech, by Patrick Henry
Because the Arizona summers were getting increasing difficult, Barry Goodwin & his wife Kathy have bought a summer condo in East Amherst, NY. The significance; you ask?? Well---Barry went to Cathedral Grade School, and then Bishop Fallon High School; class of 1969. With Barry having come back to Buffalo NY, this was decided to be an excellent reason to put another 'fellowship' together. Sue McKnight had suggested the DOCKSIDE ON THE CANAL---and it proved to be an excellent choice. We met @ 7:00PM on Tuesday 28 June, 2011. What was particularly impressive was that some new faces decided to join this rendezvous. Besides the regulars of Jim & Barbara Barrett and son Shamus, Blaine Wegrzynowski, Norb Warnes, Sue McKnight, and very belatedly Joe Barrile, that made the journey, we had a couple of newcomers who joined in, on the fun---Tommy Gannon, and Jimmy Eagan. The weather was great, the food was delicious, and the conversations were lively and spontaneous. I was not aware of it---at the time---but something very murky, had dropped into the mix, on the home-front of Tuesday; at 20:44PM---to be exact. The festivities adjourned at about 22:00PM. I left with a good feeling about the evening, the service by Justaline, and that I had, in effect, found another good location for subsequent rendezvous. And from a personal standpoint, I am eager to find out about Wednesdays, having to do with AMTRAK schedules, and the TRESTLE BRIDGE overpass on the Erie Canal part of Ellicott Creek. As a train-enthusiast, I was thrilled to see on Tuesday, twice during our stay, the AMTRAK passenger train passing by, in the N/B direction. One of them was the Empire State Express, and one of them had to be, The Maple Leaf Ltd!!
Wednesday 29 June, 2011---at least as I am progressing through the ECBOE activity, is pretty much going to plan. Once I get home, and settle-in, something very very unsettling, comes into focus. Like myself, when Andrew gets home from work, and he got in just a bit in front of me, he goes through a little bit of a routine. Included in the routine is catching up on some messages left on the phone voice-message system---that included messages from Tuesday. I, of course, was @ DOCKSIDE ON THE CANAL, on Tuesday---till late, and Donna & Andrew went to The Merge Restaurant for their supper, and got back late,as well.
The second message---the one that came in @ 20:44PM Tuesday---was bone-rattling, heart-racing, scary, and numbing. It was a message left by the family black-sheep; the one bad-apple---Margaret. The second youngest of eight, she is ten years my junior. To make a very very long story short, her life has been wasted on drugs and alcohol. In her younger years, she gave birth to two children. The first one was a boy named Paul. Because Margaret had failed as a mother with Paul, he was adopted by a family in Grand Isle, NY. The family Paul was adapted into, moved away from Grand Isle, and through FACEBOOK, recently reconnected with with his other sibling. Paul now resides in North Carolina. Margaret had a second child; a daughter, named Erica Christine. Margaret's attempt at mothering this child---failed miserably as well. We; Lou & Donna Marconi, stepped in and ADOPTED Erica. It was an especially long and arduous process because the State of New York's orientation toward adoptions is ALWAYS with deference to the biological mother. Because of this deference, it took us over ten years, to finally make the adoption official. In Judge Mattina's courtroom chambers, on 29 August, 2002---it became official. Over the years, Margaret would surface for an inquiring phone-call---and then, disappear again(which was fine by all of us; Erica included).
As I was listening to this recording, I just---went numb. The voice intonations are very very threatening. As each phrase is remarked, the intonations are punctuated with a more macabre, sinister, and bewitching threat-level, so that when she imposes her final word into her statement, I'll be honest with you---I can't say I have EVER HEARD THAT WORD SAID---THAT VOLATILE, before.
The TEXT of the message:
You Bunch of Assholes---
You Dirty Rotten Son of a Bitches---
I'm gonna Kill You---
And I'm gonna Ruin Your Property---
For What You Did To My Girl---
YOU SICK FUCKS.
What did I do?? What could I do?? Of course, the first thing I did was tell Andrew--NOT TO DELETE the message. With the message being so threatening and incriminating, it would be my intention to report this to the Kenmore Police Department, and determine what my options would be.
In due course of time, because we just kind of are this way; on a wing and a prayer, rather than having plans already set in place---Andrew wants to get an idea of whom all should he include in supper plans. Toward that end, he calls his mother to see if she is eating with us, or has already 'grabbed' something. She will do that sometimes when she is at one of her all-day cleaning jobs. While I wished he hadn't done this over the phone, he shared with his mother that we got a very nasty message from Margaret. Through the course of the conversation, she concurs---don't delete; we want to tell the police. Donna eventually gets home in due course of time. She had bought some groceries for salad and apparently caught-up with my sister Rose by cell-phone, on these hair-raising developments.
When she comes in to talk to me, having now just listened to the recording herself, she asks---did you call the police?? I replied--No. I quickly added why I did not. I detected a look on her face that suggested; well, why not. I explained that I was waiting for you to get home so we could 'close-ranks' and show a united-front. This dynamic that had just unfolded is a curious one because, based on this line of questioning by Donna, the status-quo of the interior of the house would have been suitable, at this time, to bring the police into. But then again, maybe not.
We decide to have supper first, and then afterwards, have the Kenmore Police department brought to the house. By now it is 20:30PM, when supper is finished. Donna now decides she wants to 'straightened-out' the house. Apparently it was alright earlier, but now, on second-thought, it needed to be squared-away.
At 21:00PM, officer D. Rule arrives. Like Joe Friday of DRAGNET, he wants to hear the recording immediately. As it is finishing, I even noticed his eyebrows drop a tab, as the last word of the message is expressed, with such vile emphasis. After this, Donna & I ask for him to listen to another message that, so ironically, is left on the machine---right after Margaret's. It is a message from Erica---and it is so alive, bubbly, and effervescent!! The officer, here as well, seemed to have a look on his face that concurred with our perspective: Margaret has it---ALL WRONG.
As he pulls out his report form to write it all down, he gives me, as the complainant, my options. Family Court---or Criminal Court. With this being a deadly threat, I choose Criminal Court; the charge, aggravated harassment.
While all of this is unfolding, as a united-front, Donna & I are sitting across from each other, at the kitchen table. Andrew is in the living-room, keeping Tootsie from being a distraction. At no time, does Donna decide to choose a chair alongside me, or at least reach across the table to take my hand---a physical gesture that says we are together in this. Remember earlier, I had reflected that Donna had given me the seal-of-approval to have the police come by, and that I would singularly handle the matter.
After the report is completed, and is turned over to me, he exits. In doing so, Donna accompanies him. And this is where I received another sad, in-effect, commentary to our reality.
I mean---My God, these were bone-jarring threats. At least from where I was positioned in all of this, I could have certainly used some gesture, some expression of humanity. And it certainly did not have to be intense or overbearing. I would have appreciated some supportive conversation, a hand being held, an arm around one another's shoulders. Something---anything, that might have said---We Will Get Through This Together.
Having come up the side-door stairs, Donna opens the refrigerator door and pours herself a glass or wine. She then turned her back to me and proceeds to the living room for the desk-top computer and a couple of hours of You-Tube exploration.
The turning of her back, and the walking away from me, had me, with my weighted thoughts at the kitchen-table~~~now alone & abandoned.
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise
Saturday, June 25, 2011
A Birthday...
Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show...(the opening lines of David Copperfield as written by Charles Dickens;inspired by MTM). Or at least this ACCOUNT will, perhaps, have a reflection on whether I'm going to be the hero in my own life.
...Winter brought with her the rains, oceans of mud filled the roads
Gluing the tracks of their tanks to the ground while the sky filled with snow
And all that I ever was able to see
The fire in the air glowing red silhouetting the snow on the breeze
In the footsteps of Napoleon the shadow figures stagger through the winter
Falling back before the gates of Moscow,
Standing in the wings like an avenger~~~Al Stewart; ROAD TO MOSCOW(this is posted in this week's web log because this week marks the anniversaries of two follies attempting to make HOLY MOTHER RUSSIA part of somebody else's imperial ambitions)
This is going to be one of those chapters in this journal where I want to say so much, but I can't because it will be upsetting to some people; cutting to the core about how some people, and some statuses, are perceived.
Why the Sex Disappeared In Our Marriage~~~Sharyn Wolf, LCSW---Author of "Love Shrinks: A Memoir Of A Marriage Counselor's Divorce"
Let me explain the sex life I had with my ex-husband. During the official 8 years of our marriage, my husband and I had sex three times. Two of the times I remember. The third--well, I'm just guessing there had to be three.
It's hard to talk about this. I don't want to hurt my ex-husband or to shame him or myself. But this failure at physical intimacy does seem shameful, inexplicable and humiliating.
There is a universal code in sexless marriages, and the code is "don't tell." But it can be tiring to keep such a secret. Moreover, to my great surprise, when I admitted this idiosyncrasy of my own marriage in the Huffington Post back in March, I received numerous letters from other people who were in the same boat in one way or another. There were countless couples who also were not having any sex. Many of the couples were still married.
In the very beginning, my ex and I were like any other couple. We had sex all the time. Our lovemaking was happy and we were satisfied with how it was going.
Then my ex went off to Japan for business, and I started snooping through his things. I realize this was a terrible thing for me to do. No one snoops to find the theater ticket he was going to surprise you with. We all snoop to find something that will break our hearts. And that's exactly the something I found. I found a letter that revealed that he had cheated on me on a previous Japan visit, and I found a phone bill with 1-900 calls on it.
This led to a phase of no sex.
Many couples have a phase of no sex.
Our phase lasted thirteen years. This consisted of several more years of our dating and nearly our entire marriage.
We should have gone to therapy right there and then.
We should have gotten the help we needed.
I cannot tell you why we did not.
In the beginning, he protested. He wanted our sex life back. But soon, he stopped and peacefully entered into a non-sexual existence.
We loved each other, but I could not get past what had happened. I did not want sex with him, but I did not want to leave him either. He wanted sex with me, but he didn't want to lose the relationship and was willing to pay this price. The fact that he was willing to pay it for so long suggests to me that he has some issues of his own around this topic
The reason I took this tough position was that I had been sexually molested as a child and when my husband cheated on me, I emotionally began to see him as a predator--someone who would hurt me. I could not get this awful picture out of my head. I started acting like a three-year-old, a child to whom nothing terrible had happened yet. My husband joined me there, and, instead of sex, we had a houseful of stuffed animals that made us happy.
At one point, though, I became interested and approached him. At this time, he was not interested at all and did not want to talk about it. So we both had periods of feeling sexual and periods of wanting nothing to do with sex.
But I do believe healing is possible. Despite our insurmountable obstacles, there was this one time we almost reconnected. It was ages ago, before I became a psychotherapist. I was still a jazz singer. I had a gig in another town and he came with me. For the first time in years, we found the way to each other. I did not push him away. I allowed myself to feel that, for the first time, he was enjoying me--not just that I was a female, but he was actually making love to the essence of me. It was the first time I had an orgasm with him and I must have told him I loved him a thousand times.
Then we came home to our ugly apartment with the filthy dishes, overwhelming dust and all those terrible memories. I pushed him away again. He said, "You know why you are doing this--because we got too close."
I just could not come back to him in any grown-up way.
Today I understand. In the hotel room, there had been no cheating, no 1-900 calls, no childhood molestation--a place of safety for us.
The hotel room was enchanted. The spell only worked when we were there.
Every couple who doesn't have sex has reasons far beyond the simple one that they just stopped or weren't turned on by each other anymore. I would wish that people would understand the complexities in us all and find out more before they judge.
A N D
Dear Abby: My husband, “Ed,” and I have been together for six years, married for two. This is the second marriage for both of us. We have children from our first marriages. Ed works offshore. He’s gone 21 days and here 21 days. The three weeks he’s gone, I work, take care of the house and the kids, do the yard work, etc. When he comes home, I want him to myself the first weekend—I don’t want to share him with his friends. I’d like to do fun things with him sometimes, just the two of us.
Ed says I have to understand his friends are important. He says I’m selfish and jealous. He doesn’t show affection very well either (except behind closed doors), and I am a very affectionate person. Am I asking too much from him? I am considering counseling, but I’m unsure whether Ed would go.
—Bored and Lonely in Mississippi
Dear Bored and Lonely: Counseling is an excellent idea, and if Ed won’t go, you should go without him. Asking your husband to spend two days of one-on- one time with you when he returns from three weeks away isn’t too much, and it’s not selfish. He needs to reorganize his priorities and put you higher on the list than his buddies.
Affection is supposed to be spontaneous, and you shouldn’t have to beg for it. What you describe going on behind closed doors sounds more like plain old sex and a whole lot less like affection. Unless your husband is willing to put more effort into your marriage, I can’t see you living until death do you part on a starvation diet—and you can tell both your husband and your counselor I said so.
Maybe I will be like Joe Friday of Dragnet---and just report the facts. Let the observer see it Shakespeare.
I'm confused. At 60, am I supposed to enjoy, affections and intimacies, or not??? Even as I have been reminded in no uncertain terms that the reason why the male drive dries up by this age is because women can no longer bear children and so the male reproductive function is designed to become dysfunctional. And while that may be the case, I cannot speak for other men, but I know my psyche, and my psyche still craves attention; affections, and even going out on the limb to possibly attempt intimate exchanges.
So here I am---in my Sixtieth year of life, and am in a relationship that is totally devoid of anything that constitutes humanity. There is no attention given, there is no exchanges of affection, there isn't any real qualitative conversation---to speak of. What does take place, does so between the distance of two-rooms, and sometimes---two floors. And this is a 37 year old relationship; one that is well -grounded in experiences and memories. Yet, I have been reminded often that these are things of the past and have no bearing or relevance on the here-and-now, and the future. The effort at avoiding interaction is constant. If it wasn't for Andrew, I would be @ McDonald's every day getting my supper.
I posted the two articles above because it has to do with relationships and how we torture each other denying the interaction essentials that are the flavoring ingredients, thereof. No sex; no affection, is just a very very tough pill to swallow at this point in my life. Abigail Van Buren hit the nail on head with; "Affection is supposed to be spontaneous, and you shouldn’t have to beg for it...Unless your [wife] is willing to put more effort into your marriage, I can’t see you living until death do you part on a starvation diet—and you can tell both your [wife] and [her] counselor I said so."
Affection-starvation-diet!!!
I cannot say that I have seen relationship-deterioration labeled, any better. I realize that I am not---without fault. Yes I have made my share of mistakes. But if we LIVE what we hear in the homilies preached at Mass every week; about faith, healing, forgiveness, and love, then I feel we should be able to get beyond the good, the bad, and the ugly---to build on the foundation, and thirty-seven years of building blocks, to where this marriage is considered second-to-none. Instead, it is just another one---Fading Away. I mean, she is not even wearing the wedding rings, or the reaffirmation ring at all, anymore.
Which brings me to Friday 24 June, 2011. A Great Day!!! Fridays do often represent the best of days---of the week, for me. Because it was my birthday, I was not going to be denied enjoying it.
In getting up, I was greeted, as she was hastily making her way out of the bedroom, with the obligatory---Happy Birthday. It was Spartan and sterile. There was no effort at all to come on my side of the bed first, to give an embracing, and engaging, affectionate happy-birthday-statement. She wanted to hustle out to get coffee for herself, and me---as she puts it. I take a shower and shave in slow-motion; she didn't HAVE TO hustle to do anything. She could have given me some quality-time and affection-infused attention. But then, I expected it to be this way; the affection starvation-diet, and the continued no-touch policy. I can see my gift-containers in the corner of the bedroom, but she has not brought them to me so I know that this is not going to be a bedroom-experience. Once I am dressed, I make my way downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. At this point she returns---with the coffee. It is in the breakfast-setting that the gifts are presented. The Card---which for Donna has always been an event-priority. More than the gift itself, the Card is supposed to be THE EVENT STATEMENT. Donna's Card, a milepost-card had a small personal note reflecting all the memories that my 60 years held. There was nothing mentioned of love, affection, or devotion. I have friends in Facebook whose comments, made more personal and meaningful remarks than those in the card Donna gave to me. Another example of the affection starvation-diet. After going through the gifts and the seal-of-approval remarks that would have demonstrated to any loving wife how the gestures, and the generosity of the gestures, were appreciated, I expected something a little better in return, than what I did get~~~a peck on the cheek. I mean---she didn't know me from Adam, but Roxanne initiated coming over to me, and my scooter, to slow-dance a 'number' performed by Cherry-Poppin Daddies, @ Central Terminal Deco Night. She held me close; and I did the same---as one would, in a slow-dance. And yes, I certainly appreciated her extending that form of affection to me. After this, Donna was off to work. When I was done with breakfast, I finished up with my computer, and an important phone-call from the Social Security office. After that, I wanted to enjoy some laughs so I went to the matinee performance of BAD TEACHER; starring Cameron Diaz. When that was finished I headed over to The Central Terminal for Deco Fest 2011: Live Music at The Central Terminal. This was an all-day event that had five groups performing. The theme was 'swing' but the performing sets, including the head-liners---the Cherry Poppin' Daddies, were a mix of Swing, Country, Bluegrass, and Rock-Blues. What was nice was that there was no dead-time. In between sets, swing-dance-instructors came onto the floor and provided swing-dance instructions to anybody---who wanted them!!
Here is the bitter part of this bittersweet day; Friday---my 60th Birthday. I expected this; that whatever I was going to do---and I did have a few things planned~~~I knew that this was going to be 'A Birthday', that I was going to be...Celebrating Alone.
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise
...Winter brought with her the rains, oceans of mud filled the roads
Gluing the tracks of their tanks to the ground while the sky filled with snow
And all that I ever was able to see
The fire in the air glowing red silhouetting the snow on the breeze
In the footsteps of Napoleon the shadow figures stagger through the winter
Falling back before the gates of Moscow,
Standing in the wings like an avenger~~~Al Stewart; ROAD TO MOSCOW(this is posted in this week's web log because this week marks the anniversaries of two follies attempting to make HOLY MOTHER RUSSIA part of somebody else's imperial ambitions)
This is going to be one of those chapters in this journal where I want to say so much, but I can't because it will be upsetting to some people; cutting to the core about how some people, and some statuses, are perceived.
Why the Sex Disappeared In Our Marriage~~~Sharyn Wolf, LCSW---Author of "Love Shrinks: A Memoir Of A Marriage Counselor's Divorce"
Let me explain the sex life I had with my ex-husband. During the official 8 years of our marriage, my husband and I had sex three times. Two of the times I remember. The third--well, I'm just guessing there had to be three.
It's hard to talk about this. I don't want to hurt my ex-husband or to shame him or myself. But this failure at physical intimacy does seem shameful, inexplicable and humiliating.
There is a universal code in sexless marriages, and the code is "don't tell." But it can be tiring to keep such a secret. Moreover, to my great surprise, when I admitted this idiosyncrasy of my own marriage in the Huffington Post back in March, I received numerous letters from other people who were in the same boat in one way or another. There were countless couples who also were not having any sex. Many of the couples were still married.
In the very beginning, my ex and I were like any other couple. We had sex all the time. Our lovemaking was happy and we were satisfied with how it was going.
Then my ex went off to Japan for business, and I started snooping through his things. I realize this was a terrible thing for me to do. No one snoops to find the theater ticket he was going to surprise you with. We all snoop to find something that will break our hearts. And that's exactly the something I found. I found a letter that revealed that he had cheated on me on a previous Japan visit, and I found a phone bill with 1-900 calls on it.
This led to a phase of no sex.
Many couples have a phase of no sex.
Our phase lasted thirteen years. This consisted of several more years of our dating and nearly our entire marriage.
We should have gone to therapy right there and then.
We should have gotten the help we needed.
I cannot tell you why we did not.
In the beginning, he protested. He wanted our sex life back. But soon, he stopped and peacefully entered into a non-sexual existence.
We loved each other, but I could not get past what had happened. I did not want sex with him, but I did not want to leave him either. He wanted sex with me, but he didn't want to lose the relationship and was willing to pay this price. The fact that he was willing to pay it for so long suggests to me that he has some issues of his own around this topic
The reason I took this tough position was that I had been sexually molested as a child and when my husband cheated on me, I emotionally began to see him as a predator--someone who would hurt me. I could not get this awful picture out of my head. I started acting like a three-year-old, a child to whom nothing terrible had happened yet. My husband joined me there, and, instead of sex, we had a houseful of stuffed animals that made us happy.
At one point, though, I became interested and approached him. At this time, he was not interested at all and did not want to talk about it. So we both had periods of feeling sexual and periods of wanting nothing to do with sex.
But I do believe healing is possible. Despite our insurmountable obstacles, there was this one time we almost reconnected. It was ages ago, before I became a psychotherapist. I was still a jazz singer. I had a gig in another town and he came with me. For the first time in years, we found the way to each other. I did not push him away. I allowed myself to feel that, for the first time, he was enjoying me--not just that I was a female, but he was actually making love to the essence of me. It was the first time I had an orgasm with him and I must have told him I loved him a thousand times.
Then we came home to our ugly apartment with the filthy dishes, overwhelming dust and all those terrible memories. I pushed him away again. He said, "You know why you are doing this--because we got too close."
I just could not come back to him in any grown-up way.
Today I understand. In the hotel room, there had been no cheating, no 1-900 calls, no childhood molestation--a place of safety for us.
The hotel room was enchanted. The spell only worked when we were there.
Every couple who doesn't have sex has reasons far beyond the simple one that they just stopped or weren't turned on by each other anymore. I would wish that people would understand the complexities in us all and find out more before they judge.
A N D
Dear Abby: My husband, “Ed,” and I have been together for six years, married for two. This is the second marriage for both of us. We have children from our first marriages. Ed works offshore. He’s gone 21 days and here 21 days. The three weeks he’s gone, I work, take care of the house and the kids, do the yard work, etc. When he comes home, I want him to myself the first weekend—I don’t want to share him with his friends. I’d like to do fun things with him sometimes, just the two of us.
Ed says I have to understand his friends are important. He says I’m selfish and jealous. He doesn’t show affection very well either (except behind closed doors), and I am a very affectionate person. Am I asking too much from him? I am considering counseling, but I’m unsure whether Ed would go.
—Bored and Lonely in Mississippi
Dear Bored and Lonely: Counseling is an excellent idea, and if Ed won’t go, you should go without him. Asking your husband to spend two days of one-on- one time with you when he returns from three weeks away isn’t too much, and it’s not selfish. He needs to reorganize his priorities and put you higher on the list than his buddies.
Affection is supposed to be spontaneous, and you shouldn’t have to beg for it. What you describe going on behind closed doors sounds more like plain old sex and a whole lot less like affection. Unless your husband is willing to put more effort into your marriage, I can’t see you living until death do you part on a starvation diet—and you can tell both your husband and your counselor I said so.
Maybe I will be like Joe Friday of Dragnet---and just report the facts. Let the observer see it Shakespeare.
I'm confused. At 60, am I supposed to enjoy, affections and intimacies, or not??? Even as I have been reminded in no uncertain terms that the reason why the male drive dries up by this age is because women can no longer bear children and so the male reproductive function is designed to become dysfunctional. And while that may be the case, I cannot speak for other men, but I know my psyche, and my psyche still craves attention; affections, and even going out on the limb to possibly attempt intimate exchanges.
So here I am---in my Sixtieth year of life, and am in a relationship that is totally devoid of anything that constitutes humanity. There is no attention given, there is no exchanges of affection, there isn't any real qualitative conversation---to speak of. What does take place, does so between the distance of two-rooms, and sometimes---two floors. And this is a 37 year old relationship; one that is well -grounded in experiences and memories. Yet, I have been reminded often that these are things of the past and have no bearing or relevance on the here-and-now, and the future. The effort at avoiding interaction is constant. If it wasn't for Andrew, I would be @ McDonald's every day getting my supper.
I posted the two articles above because it has to do with relationships and how we torture each other denying the interaction essentials that are the flavoring ingredients, thereof. No sex; no affection, is just a very very tough pill to swallow at this point in my life. Abigail Van Buren hit the nail on head with; "Affection is supposed to be spontaneous, and you shouldn’t have to beg for it...Unless your [wife] is willing to put more effort into your marriage, I can’t see you living until death do you part on a starvation diet—and you can tell both your [wife] and [her] counselor I said so."
Affection-starvation-diet!!!
I cannot say that I have seen relationship-deterioration labeled, any better. I realize that I am not---without fault. Yes I have made my share of mistakes. But if we LIVE what we hear in the homilies preached at Mass every week; about faith, healing, forgiveness, and love, then I feel we should be able to get beyond the good, the bad, and the ugly---to build on the foundation, and thirty-seven years of building blocks, to where this marriage is considered second-to-none. Instead, it is just another one---Fading Away. I mean, she is not even wearing the wedding rings, or the reaffirmation ring at all, anymore.
Which brings me to Friday 24 June, 2011. A Great Day!!! Fridays do often represent the best of days---of the week, for me. Because it was my birthday, I was not going to be denied enjoying it.
In getting up, I was greeted, as she was hastily making her way out of the bedroom, with the obligatory---Happy Birthday. It was Spartan and sterile. There was no effort at all to come on my side of the bed first, to give an embracing, and engaging, affectionate happy-birthday-statement. She wanted to hustle out to get coffee for herself, and me---as she puts it. I take a shower and shave in slow-motion; she didn't HAVE TO hustle to do anything. She could have given me some quality-time and affection-infused attention. But then, I expected it to be this way; the affection starvation-diet, and the continued no-touch policy. I can see my gift-containers in the corner of the bedroom, but she has not brought them to me so I know that this is not going to be a bedroom-experience. Once I am dressed, I make my way downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. At this point she returns---with the coffee. It is in the breakfast-setting that the gifts are presented. The Card---which for Donna has always been an event-priority. More than the gift itself, the Card is supposed to be THE EVENT STATEMENT. Donna's Card, a milepost-card had a small personal note reflecting all the memories that my 60 years held. There was nothing mentioned of love, affection, or devotion. I have friends in Facebook whose comments, made more personal and meaningful remarks than those in the card Donna gave to me. Another example of the affection starvation-diet. After going through the gifts and the seal-of-approval remarks that would have demonstrated to any loving wife how the gestures, and the generosity of the gestures, were appreciated, I expected something a little better in return, than what I did get~~~a peck on the cheek. I mean---she didn't know me from Adam, but Roxanne initiated coming over to me, and my scooter, to slow-dance a 'number' performed by Cherry-Poppin Daddies, @ Central Terminal Deco Night. She held me close; and I did the same---as one would, in a slow-dance. And yes, I certainly appreciated her extending that form of affection to me. After this, Donna was off to work. When I was done with breakfast, I finished up with my computer, and an important phone-call from the Social Security office. After that, I wanted to enjoy some laughs so I went to the matinee performance of BAD TEACHER; starring Cameron Diaz. When that was finished I headed over to The Central Terminal for Deco Fest 2011: Live Music at The Central Terminal. This was an all-day event that had five groups performing. The theme was 'swing' but the performing sets, including the head-liners---the Cherry Poppin' Daddies, were a mix of Swing, Country, Bluegrass, and Rock-Blues. What was nice was that there was no dead-time. In between sets, swing-dance-instructors came onto the floor and provided swing-dance instructions to anybody---who wanted them!!
Here is the bitter part of this bittersweet day; Friday---my 60th Birthday. I expected this; that whatever I was going to do---and I did have a few things planned~~~I knew that this was going to be 'A Birthday', that I was going to be...Celebrating Alone.
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise
Saturday, June 18, 2011
A Tribute to Fathers~~~and My Father
Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show...(the opening lines of David Copperfield as written by Charles Dickens;inspired by MTM). Or at least this ACCOUNT will, perhaps, have a reflection on whether I'm going to be the hero in my own life.
Back when I was a child, before life removed all the innocence My father would lift me high and dance with my mother and me and then
Spin me around ‘til I fell asleep
Then up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure I was loved
If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him
I’d play a song that would never, ever end
How I’d love, love, love
To dance with my father again
When I and my mother would disagree
To get my way, I would run from her to him
He’d make me laugh just to comfort me
Then finally make me do just what my mama said
Later that night when I was asleep
He left a dollar under my sheet
Never dreamed that he would be gone from me
If I could steal one final glance, one final step, one final dance with him
I’d play a song that would never, ever end
‘Cause I’d love, love, love
To dance with my father again
Sometimes I’d listen outside her door
And I’d hear how my mother cried for him
I pray for her even more than me
I pray for her even more than me
I know I’m praying for much too much
But could you send back the only man she loved
I know you don’t do it usually
But dear Lord she’s dying
To dance with my father again
Every night I fall asleep and this is all I ever dream~~~LUTHER VANDROSS: DANCE WITH MY FATHER AGAIN
Dad~~~I saw in You, a Man. Through your actions---I realized a DETERMINATION. It is in your actions and behavior, that I formulated my sense of character, around. You were always a Man of CHARACTER; You only knew Hard Work. You minded your own business; you never 'hung' around drinking, playing cards, or mixing with "elements."
Of course, being a bit older now, and having seen---and have been a 'part' of how some of this world works, mixing with some elements developing 'connections' and networking---can be a good thing. This is why we, as a family on West Delavan Ave., always found ourselves on the other-side of the tracks, so-to-speak, because Dad just didn't 'know' anybody. In realizing this, going into my adult years, I was certainly going to TRY to add that 'element' of connections~~~to my persona.
And Dad~~~You understood figuratively---and literally---DRIVE. As a wounded warrior---you wouldn't stop. You, and your IBT brothers, gerry-rigged the steering wheel of a MACK TRUCK to continue to work while the hand was in a cast, and put food on the table.
It is in your strength Dad, that I allow myself to cry. I love you, Dad. This is My Father's Day Tribute, to You~~~and to all of those whom still hold deeply in their hearts, the better memories of their Fathers.
Some thoughts already expressed through the social-networking-site FACEBOOK:
Rose Spears---Beautiful tribute ...
Gloria Marconi---Yes indeed. I talk dad up all the time. I remember hearing him every morning at 7AM shuffling down the stairs to get ready for work. Friday after work we went to the grocery store and did food shopping. He cooked on the weekends to give mom a break. He was a gentle man in his way. He was all about family and he was a hard worker never complaining.
Leana Elam---I echo the sentiment. He was always there when we needed him most....Remember Glo, during those Sunday morning deliveries when the snow overpowered the cart and dad came through with the station wagon to get the papers on the customers front porch. He was a real trooper!!!!Love you dad.
Gloria Marconi---Yessiree!!!
Lou Marconi---This was like 1958; 1959---but I will never forget this. I don't even know if NY Workman's Comp was even available for him. He broke his hand husking freight at one of the driver-dock Trucking Companies that he was working at. He didn't sit on his ass, waiting forever for his hand to heal. He, and his cohorts, gerry-rigged the steering wheel so he could clutch, shift, and steer his Mack Truck that he was peddling freight in, all over the city.
Lou Marconi---That explains why the one finger of his left hand never healed properly.
Maria Mulder Herberger---Louie...He truly was a SUPERDAD...As a kid I was amazed at how he still went to work everyday. i can still see him making his way to the house...such strength and determination.. so much like yourself!
I feel the BELOW to an excellent reflection of a resourceful Father, regardless of what walk-of-life, he would work to blossom in, and how he would end up leaving HIS mark.
By Perry Nicholas
~~~AURA~~~
Everything smelled of paint thinner,
to some degree, around my father
and our house. A foreign perfume,
or a man’s spicy cologne.
It circulated down the driveway
from the beds of tired work trucks
to the can-full garage, through the yard,
never empty enough to play in.
There was a lone lilac bush
just on the other side of our fence,
begging me to breathe in her fragrance
every morning, but instead, I rose
before the others to inhale my father
as he loaded paint on the pickup
with one hand, pulled lovingly
on his non-filters with the other.
Cigarettes, paint fumes, and stale whiskey...
an intoxicating concoction of scents.
They followed him day and night,
and I respected his aura of thinner.
It hung everywhere in the air,
just as a father’s force lingers
forever heavy in a man’s life.
Strange how our jobs seep out
of us unnoticed, undetected
except to those who need us.
I wonder if I smell of lead pencils,
new paper, coffee, and chalk.
Ironic, huh Dad!?!? I ended up spending my adult-life~~~in the transportation industry. And ultimately, would end up carrying an IBT Union membership-card.
The apple~~~doesn't fall---FAR FROM THE TREE.
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise
NB: While our USMC son, Philip was going through boot camp at Parris Isle, it wasn't always---blood and guts. Every now and again---they actually conducted DISCUSSION GROUPS. The theme of this one discussion group that he was a part of was~~~whom did you find to be the most influential person in your life.
Philip's response~~~"My Father."(eyes now watering)
Back when I was a child, before life removed all the innocence My father would lift me high and dance with my mother and me and then
Spin me around ‘til I fell asleep
Then up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure I was loved
If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him
I’d play a song that would never, ever end
How I’d love, love, love
To dance with my father again
When I and my mother would disagree
To get my way, I would run from her to him
He’d make me laugh just to comfort me
Then finally make me do just what my mama said
Later that night when I was asleep
He left a dollar under my sheet
Never dreamed that he would be gone from me
If I could steal one final glance, one final step, one final dance with him
I’d play a song that would never, ever end
‘Cause I’d love, love, love
To dance with my father again
Sometimes I’d listen outside her door
And I’d hear how my mother cried for him
I pray for her even more than me
I pray for her even more than me
I know I’m praying for much too much
But could you send back the only man she loved
I know you don’t do it usually
But dear Lord she’s dying
To dance with my father again
Every night I fall asleep and this is all I ever dream~~~LUTHER VANDROSS: DANCE WITH MY FATHER AGAIN
Dad~~~I saw in You, a Man. Through your actions---I realized a DETERMINATION. It is in your actions and behavior, that I formulated my sense of character, around. You were always a Man of CHARACTER; You only knew Hard Work. You minded your own business; you never 'hung' around drinking, playing cards, or mixing with "elements."
Of course, being a bit older now, and having seen---and have been a 'part' of how some of this world works, mixing with some elements developing 'connections' and networking---can be a good thing. This is why we, as a family on West Delavan Ave., always found ourselves on the other-side of the tracks, so-to-speak, because Dad just didn't 'know' anybody. In realizing this, going into my adult years, I was certainly going to TRY to add that 'element' of connections~~~to my persona.
And Dad~~~You understood figuratively---and literally---DRIVE. As a wounded warrior---you wouldn't stop. You, and your IBT brothers, gerry-rigged the steering wheel of a MACK TRUCK to continue to work while the hand was in a cast, and put food on the table.
It is in your strength Dad, that I allow myself to cry. I love you, Dad. This is My Father's Day Tribute, to You~~~and to all of those whom still hold deeply in their hearts, the better memories of their Fathers.
Some thoughts already expressed through the social-networking-site FACEBOOK:
Rose Spears---Beautiful tribute ...
Gloria Marconi---Yes indeed. I talk dad up all the time. I remember hearing him every morning at 7AM shuffling down the stairs to get ready for work. Friday after work we went to the grocery store and did food shopping. He cooked on the weekends to give mom a break. He was a gentle man in his way. He was all about family and he was a hard worker never complaining.
Leana Elam---I echo the sentiment. He was always there when we needed him most....Remember Glo, during those Sunday morning deliveries when the snow overpowered the cart and dad came through with the station wagon to get the papers on the customers front porch. He was a real trooper!!!!Love you dad.
Gloria Marconi---Yessiree!!!
Lou Marconi---This was like 1958; 1959---but I will never forget this. I don't even know if NY Workman's Comp was even available for him. He broke his hand husking freight at one of the driver-dock Trucking Companies that he was working at. He didn't sit on his ass, waiting forever for his hand to heal. He, and his cohorts, gerry-rigged the steering wheel so he could clutch, shift, and steer his Mack Truck that he was peddling freight in, all over the city.
Lou Marconi---That explains why the one finger of his left hand never healed properly.
Maria Mulder Herberger---Louie...He truly was a SUPERDAD...As a kid I was amazed at how he still went to work everyday. i can still see him making his way to the house...such strength and determination.. so much like yourself!
I feel the BELOW to an excellent reflection of a resourceful Father, regardless of what walk-of-life, he would work to blossom in, and how he would end up leaving HIS mark.
By Perry Nicholas
~~~AURA~~~
Everything smelled of paint thinner,
to some degree, around my father
and our house. A foreign perfume,
or a man’s spicy cologne.
It circulated down the driveway
from the beds of tired work trucks
to the can-full garage, through the yard,
never empty enough to play in.
There was a lone lilac bush
just on the other side of our fence,
begging me to breathe in her fragrance
every morning, but instead, I rose
before the others to inhale my father
as he loaded paint on the pickup
with one hand, pulled lovingly
on his non-filters with the other.
Cigarettes, paint fumes, and stale whiskey...
an intoxicating concoction of scents.
They followed him day and night,
and I respected his aura of thinner.
It hung everywhere in the air,
just as a father’s force lingers
forever heavy in a man’s life.
Strange how our jobs seep out
of us unnoticed, undetected
except to those who need us.
I wonder if I smell of lead pencils,
new paper, coffee, and chalk.
Ironic, huh Dad!?!? I ended up spending my adult-life~~~in the transportation industry. And ultimately, would end up carrying an IBT Union membership-card.
The apple~~~doesn't fall---FAR FROM THE TREE.
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise
NB: While our USMC son, Philip was going through boot camp at Parris Isle, it wasn't always---blood and guts. Every now and again---they actually conducted DISCUSSION GROUPS. The theme of this one discussion group that he was a part of was~~~whom did you find to be the most influential person in your life.
Philip's response~~~"My Father."(eyes now watering)
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