spiritual epiphany (lowercase intentional)

Pass the Vasoline

Izzy called from Mommys happyland, Asked me to call her a cab again tonight. There are no cabs out here.....Can you say isolated? It breaks my heart when she has to call me from there and cry herself to sleep. I was able to calm her down a bit but damn it I shouldn't have to. It only illustrates how fucked up things are sometimes. Hang in there Izzy, Daddys right here and I am your superhero and the morning will come, Just sleep little one and we will be right back together tommorrow for as long as you want.
=========================================
Yeah, And to top it all off I locked my stupid ass out of the house and the happy couple from the Fairy Gardens of greshlehem wouldn't answer the fucking phone........No spare key, Small town cops, 55 fuckin' dollars to get back in my house. I give up!!! Im gonna put a spare key right up where I have my gun hidden.

Easter Sunday

Today was an emotional rollercoaster, Easter Sunday. Izzy and I went to Easter service at the Methodist Church half a block away from our new house. I am sure some of you whom know me are saying "You, In Church'? Well first off, Its a liberal church with a female clergy....Second, Here I am a stranger in a strange land and was for all intents and purposes left stranded with my four year old daughter in a town of 10 thousand people with a months rent paid and 100 dollars in the bank( Exactly where the other 6 thousand and 9 hundred I deposited last month went is a mystery that only Mommy knows and she ain't talkin') .

It was not so much a turn to Jesus cause times are dark (Think Jailhouse Christian) but a very thought out move to integrate myself AND my daughter into a community that might easily count me as a pariah. I could easily enough deal with that but I have my child to consider first and for her to be judged by a new community by her fathers possible reputation is too much for me to bear. I am going to fit in damn it and frankly, Izzy needs playmates and any indoctrination issue are swiftly sorted out by pariah daddy within the privacy of our love filled home. Church only made me ask tough questions when I was a child and I think I am more qualified to answer those questions from Izzy than my parents were to answer mine at the same age. My parents sent me off to church alone at 5 and 6 years old three blocks away so they could fuck on sunday morning, That is when they were grunting at each other enough to communicate that base desire.

Izzy was good throughout most of the service considering that due to the easter service the childrens sunday school was cancelled. The service was "nice" and brief enough that a child could have just enough time to avoid a meltdown. There were two hymns that I particularly enjoyed, One even jostled a memory loose from childhood and took me back to attending church with my Grandparents whom ultimately were yoked with raising me. I can't imagine two more loving people ever crossing my path in this lifetime, I loved them both so deeply and profoundly. Of course I enjoyed it more when my "Grampa" Frosty took my to a small town some miles away and bought me a chocolate coke (At a real soda fountain) and would give me one dollar to spend on comic books. He would always end up swinging an extra quarter for an annual, Comics were 12 cents then.

We then returned home after church. The dog had shit on the floor and I was really not up for that. Izzy asked if there was an easter basket somewere. I felt so failed as a parent, I couldn't afford to get her anything resembling an easter basket this year. She had mild disappointment on her face and very quickly rebounded but I was left with a horrible gnawing guilt. This is when I checked MYSPACE to see if Mr. W from Screwball had sent his number as I just needed some one to talk too that was a familuar voice. Thats when I saw a bulletin that sent me over the edge from one of the MYSPACE friends that I always love hearing from. A virtual friend that I actually would like to hang with for a weekend. I am sure that we would have alot to talk about but I am more certain that we would also manage to get into some trouble too....The good kind of course. I will just repost the entire communication and preface this with yet another apology to SOB ( Axis of Evil Asshats).I also invite you to click on the links to help the various causes as they are active.

American kids eat chocolate bunnies while Somalians starve.


----------------- Bulletin Message -----------------
From: AXIS OF EVIL ASSHATS
Date: Apr 16, 2006 8:09 AM

This is NOT a hoax. It's already been checked out by several urban legend/internet hoax sites and found to be legit.
All you do is click a button and somewhere in the world some hungry person gets a meal to eat, at no cost to you. There are other programs for women's health, literacy programs for kids, animal shelters, the rainforest and child health. Corporate sponsors who gain advertising in the process because you see their logos, pay for the food and everything else. All you do is go to the site and click. However, you're only allowed one click per day, so spread the word around. It all takes less then a minute.


click these buttons:



















The "Somolian kids without chocolate" heading twisted a guilty knife in my back.....
I replied.........

Since my daughter and I moved to Clintonville fucking WI from Chicago last week and The babies Mom split(The same day) with the only person I know here (Whom fell in "LOVE" with Mommy while returning the moving truck together). You can be assured my kid didn't get a fuckin' easter basket this year, The 100. dollars Mommy left us with didn't quite leave the budget able to obsorb the cost of an easter basket this year. That was pretty fucking tough to look my 4 year old in the eyes and tell her that the easter bunny isn't gonna make it this year.

Last month I had deposited 7000. dollars (A Disability check) into moms bank account and now the magic number is less than 100 dollars. I hope her junkie ass is happy esp. after telling my former friend that I had blacked her eye and sundry other horseshit. His problem now......Our house here is too small for all the love. Rest assured there are no chocolate bunnies here.

Shane

I quickly sent a second message:

apologies

Sorry.....Too much information and I just had a real sore spot.

Shane

The reply I got was exactly the Easter miracle I needed :

RE: apologies

I appreciate being the recipient of someone's venting, especially that of someone who I respect.

I'm really glad to know you and Izzy have each other.
=====================================================
the random act of kindness was so well timed that I held up once again.

The rest of the day was a little rough. I was sorting a box of papers, The kind of droll business papers that we humans collect, Tax forms, rent receipts ect. ect..In the middle of all these papers were a small handfull of nude photos I shot the day Mommy went to the hospital to have Izzy. We were so much in love then and things had not yet begun to fall apart.The memories painfully flooded back, lying in bed with this incredibly beautiful woman whom was with my child, gently laying my head on her swollen stomach to talk and sing to the soon to be born Izzy.Her beautiful milk swollen breasts and the gentle lovemaking that we had found as a new facet to our rich lives.

I will never forget coming home on Sept. 11 and having the despairing thought that the world my daughter would inhabit was to be so frightningly diffrent than the one I had known. It was as the expression goes "Like being gobsmacked". I am getting really used to that feeling. A call from Mommy's sister, whom had no idea what had transpired, was an ordeal and just fighting despair was the tall order of the day. Aunt J. even mentioned that her and her sister were eating in a diner in Chicago the last time that the sisters saw each other and Mommy confided that she wasn't in love with me then (THIS WAS 2 1/2 YEARS AGO). I have to say that really hurt alot.

Izzy was tired early but wanted to watch the Gary Jules video a few dozen more times(Thanks again SOB). She made me promise to get Donnie Darko for her to watch as she was intriged by Frank the Bunny (Well she loves Childs Play's Chucky too). I carried her to bed as per her request and we were going through the Daddy,scratch my back ritual and Jip the floor shitting puppy came up demanding attention. He's really a great puppy that I fear we have to get rid off due to economics but at any rate Jip is one of the dogs that likes to "talk". He sometimes tries to form words and other times he just moves his mouth in an excited way as if to communicate. Izzy always asks me what he's saying just to see what outragous shit I will make up. She might only be four (5 in October) but she is no idiot, She knows how to unbridle my most colorful and outlandish tales, which for her money, are some of the funniest things she has ever heard.

She asked me what jip was saying and I told her that he was trying to convince me that the dog turds he left on the carpoet were chocolate bunny eggs. This must have gone on for five minutes or so and we both laughed till we had tears. Jip had fun too and after Izzy went to sleep I snuck out and talked to Jan and Viva both on the phone and was left with a feeling that I am a blessed man with the friends that I have, Real world and virtual. Thank you all and Izzy and I send some of the love that spills out from our house to you all.

Steve W (Whom knows troubled times himself and is thankful he isn't me), Ilko (Whom made the austute observation that I displayed all the classic symptoms of the "Battered Woman Syndrome", Chauncy (Thanks for making the arrangements that your making,Its the right thing too do), Dave one aka. Chicago Dave for being there with perhaps the most intimate knowledge of how things fall apart, Auntie Viva for being crazy and loving as always and also Mike Miller for taking time when he has such a full plate himself, SOB for the timing and kind words and Last but not least Jan and Allan without whom the place where I stand now, Alive and nearly clearheaded, would have been nearly impossible.

Happy Easter afterall.

thoughts scattered across my desk from the last week.....

tattered words and notes from the last week.


The afternoon dawdles in an anxiety
to rival my own.
The afternoon waits for the darkness and
I wait for the elusive light.

The afternoon flows on a shivering breeze as she whispers the seasons change.
I feel my own season change. Like the colorful leaves in the annual death cycle
of the tree, I too show signs.
The color fades from my hair to reveal the whiteness, The color of age.
I stand in the breeze and let it wash over me in a place that I don't know.


The afternoon subltly hints at rebirth and spring
and I am deluded in my own damp earth toned Autumn.

I have collected yet another scar to
save in a jar.
I put it in the kitchen window
to trap the sunbeams that force thier way in.
There is no denying the light.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everything was troubled for so long that I had almost forgotton what was good....
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


sat. early march
Izzy:
Q "Should Daddy let Mommy come home if she changes her mind about living with Dave?"
A" No Daddy, Mommy has made too many mistakes and she doesn't listen to you. I want to live with you".

"What Dave did is bad, He was supposed to be your friend.You, Me and Mommy were supposed to be a family, Not Dave and Mommy".
---------------------------------------------------------
Turn the other cheek?
How about if I just turn my back.
----------------------------------------------

How many times can I wreck this train
back it up and do it again..
----------------------------------------------------------

starting over and picking up the pieces
broken china
and
broken hearts
spill from the empty packing boxes
on the dirty kitchern floor.
friend,
lover and
self clash in a mired merry-go-round.
which kiss was the kiss of judas?
which one whispered lies ?
and which one hurt?
the entire past converged to the crux of the
here and now.
molten brass formed the ring
as the sculptor toiled for stolen love
delicate fingers grasp the ring in searing pain
that coursed through the veins of all three.
the self was wounded
though not mortally
for he had the true prize.
the pure love of a child.
the sculptor was left to nurse his conscious and ponder his loss
as he was caressed by the delicate burning fingers
that grasped the molton brass ring
searing him with its insatiable void.

This is the reason I live....

Daddy?
What Izzy...
Were both Superheroes, Did you know that?
If I need help then you help me and if you need help I help you....Thats responsibility.
God I love you Izzy.
I love you too Daddy.

While going through some random files I found this on the hard drive. This piece was written just before Christmas two years ago and I thought I would post this. As of late I have been replaying the bitterness of the past repeatedly in my mind. This is really a reminder to myself that the past has really had its precious moments (Which I have known and been thankful for all along). I think what was malignant has removed itself and now in all of its bittersweet light the past is restructuring itself into a perspective that builds the foundation of my life. With that said here are the scraps of life spent in the name of love and in my movie IZZY is the star.

Unrest in pretend-land and the mystery of God and Poop.

The house is quiet as no one else is up yet, The coffee is still brewing and I have no idea how I feel yet, Which is not usually a good sign. Yesterday was a good day,Watching Izzy on Christmas morning open all of her presents was a joy.The magic of being three years old bathed the room. I wish the magic of three could last longer but I have vowed to enjoy every moment I possibly can and many moments have become locked away in a precious place within. I think a couple of insightful stories follow here.

While doing last minute shopping, Foolish as we were, The night before Christmas eve, Izzy was strapped into her car seat and thinking about a nap.
I overheard her talking to her imaginary friends (Normally these friends are Jip and Lip) and I listened closely as I often do. Katie and I both heard her say,"I am gonna pretend kick your ass". I'm not sure what was going on in pretend-land but it was nothing short of hysterical to overhear.

While I am on the subject of Izzy stories I think this one may not translate as well but I feel like commiting to record anyway is the poop conversation of a couple of days ago. After waking up Izzy had a diaperful so as always we set out to immeadiatly get more clean and comfortable. I suppose the back story here to put this in perspective is in a nutshell, When Mommy finds something difficult to explain she relies on the stock "God" explanation which can be handy for explaining where babies come from and a myriad of other tough issues to broach. What is amusing about this is really most people would find a Goth mom amusing enough but one whom talks of "God" something/anything that is somewhat surreal.

At any rate I will do my best to convey the conversation between Izzy and In an accurate light.

"Daddy, Why is my butt cold after I poop"?
"Well Honey I suppose thats because all of the hot air escapes when you poop". She thought about that for a brief second (She is ratherquick to detect my bullshit answers).
"Noooooo" she replied,"Your teasin'.
"Well baby I really don't know why your butt is cold after you poop."
Thinking that would be that, I finished up the task and walked off to the trash to dispose of the diaper. Izzy looks up at me in the kitchen and with all seriousness said "Daddy"?
"Yes baby"
"I guess thats just the way "God" made poop".

The look on her face was beautiful, That childs way of feeling they have reasoned out a mystery (Of which life is full of at three) and the look of dead on seriousness. I didn't want to laugh in front of her although the idea struck me as incredibly funny. In a sense though I suppose that can be such an allegory for so many things....To quote someone much smarter than I, "Thats just the way "God " made poop".

Why yes, There are TWO sides to every story.

There is also Truth and Fiction
and
Delusion and Reality.