It’s been an interesting run, but it’s over. I’m over it. I’m done.

Thanks for your support. Thanks for your comments.

Take care,
David

We tried to make it work for four years, six if you count the last two during which time we fought, cried, yelled, did things to hurt each other…and ultimately talked about getting back together.

We couldn’t let each other go completely. For all the venom we spewed at each other. For all the hate we felt…we ultimately, after clearing out all the garbage and bullshit, loved each other. Whether we were going to truly attempt reconciliation is still a question. Can two people truly move on together after years of hatred and bitterness? Can forgiveness erase everything and provide a clean slate from which to begin again?

Those and many other questions will remain mysteries. For he took his life and with it all the answers.

I know why he did it. And yet I still don’t understand. I don’t suppose I ever will. I attempted suicide twice in my life and I’m glad I didn’t succeed. When I think of all the living I’ve done since then. When I think of everything I’ve seen. I’m happy that, in this endeavour, I failed miserably. But like his doctor told me, when someone really has it in mind to do something like this, they will no matter what.

Now, all I can do is make sure the sons he left behind get through this, myself also.

Now, all I can do is keep it together for now and make sure his last wishes are honored.

I’m at work as I write this and it is taking a lot not to lose it. And honestly part of me doesn’t want to. At least not in a teary way. Part of me wants to bring him back for the express purpose of kicking his ass. He didn’t leave only me behind. He left two young men who looked to him for support. They looked to him for a listening ear and the youngest especially communicated with him, reached out to him and understood him in ways no one else ever could.

He had a skill for doing that. He was able to understand people and get them in ways that others, no matter how hard they tried, couldn’t and he made it look easy. I only wish he understood himself as well.

He always had some sort of inner turmoil brewing. Even when he was happy, he seemed sad or angry. After his mother died a few years ago he was never the same. I feared he would do something rash then. When he didn’t I tried to breathe a sigh of relief but I remained nervous that something would push him over the edge. His car accident and the diagnosis that he would have recurring fibroid tumors on his spine seemed to push him that much closer. His having to have a third surgery to remove them seemed to be the final straw.

This is affecting me in ways I didn’t think possible and in ways I can’t quite process…not yet anyway. I’m going to miss him, I know that much. I hurt, I know that much too.

My boys are hurting right now. And that has to be my focus for the next few days at least.

The weight loss project will continue. But I’m taking the next week off. I will be back and life, of course, will move on. The reality of living in a world without one of the true loves of my life. The reality of living in a world without one of the best friends I’ll ever have and greatest supporters of all my goals and endeavours. That will take some getting used to. But I will. We all will.

Just not yet.

That’s the caloric content of my 16 oz. Café con leche without which I cannot function. Do you hear me? I CAN’T FUNCTION WITHOUT THIS! Not before Noon anyway.

I am not a morning person. Never have been and I doubt, at the age of 43, that I will ever be. No it’s not a matter of partying every night, or most times at any night, it’s not that I view getting up early as an adult thing for which I need to grow up. I just hate mornings.

I handle my business as best I can. I’ve had primary positon in raising three extraordinary young men. And I acknowledge and try to live up to paying my way. I’m a grown up. Or at least I’m trying my very best to be one. To that end I get up and go to a job I can’t stand and work and I get there by 8:30 in the morning.

And what helps me are the two or three Café con Leche’s that I drink. I’m trying to change my eating habits. I’m counting my calories and have set a modest goal of a twenty pound weight loss by Labor Day. This has been stressful because I’ve had to unlearn much of what I’ve learned. I’ve clung to my Café con Leche’s religiously. I’m not a religious man, as anyone who knows me can confirm, but I AM A CAFÉ CON LECHE ACCOLYTE!

And it’s killing me (okay, no, not literally) to the tune of 680-1020 calories a day! In just what I’m drinking. Believe me when your suggested daily caloric intake is 1700-2000 I’m screwed before I even take a bite of food. And all before noon!

So this is all going through my head and without any further adieu I have to give a shout out to some of my FaceBook buds, Jill, James and Joey. They read the status wherein I posted my initial freakout and they came loaded with all sorts of suggestions for what I could do to reduce the calories. They were amazing.

But of course all I could do was dwell on what an ass I’ve been for drinking in so many damn calories and instead of really reading what they were sending me I just shut down and said I’m going for Diet Coke. Instead of listening to the voice of moderation and balance that my friends were trying to provide I went to another extreme.

Okay, so have I mentioned already that I can be a magnificently stubborn Jackass?

I got to thinking about this whole weight loss thing. So many times I’ve lost weight but have gained it all, and more, back. So many times have I tried to eat healthier and gone right back to all of the fat, cheese and other goodies that got me to where I am today. Or should I say got me to where I was last week.

As with everything else in this life it’s about balance. I’m not saying anything any other Doctor, Dietitian, Weight Loss Guru or anyone else has said time and time again before. But now that I’m trying to apply that balance I can see not just how hard it is but how easy it is to avoid. This all of course explains much about my life and that isn’t lost on me. Now, however, it’s about moving forward. To hell with what happened. I’ve been able to do something that some never do; I’ve been able to reflect on the past and really try and learn from it.

So I’ll try the lowfat, nonfat alternatives to my Café con Leche. I’ll make a more concerted effort to make the necessary adjustments in order to maintain the journey on which I’ve embarked. I’m not always going to be successful. I’m not always going to like it. But I am going to forgive myself more quickly when I fail. I am going to work on that which I don’t like and if I can’t change it I can learn to accept it.

I’ve modified my workout schedule. The pain level has so far ranged from not bad to only somewhat bad but I have begun noticing some positive changes. The weight loss hasn’t taken off as quickly as I’d like. I’ve only lost three pounds. But it’s a step in the right direction and in addition to learning patience, because instant gratification isn’t always the way to go (wow, am I really saying this?), I’m focusing on the finish line, which for this goal is Labor Day.

Three down, seventeen more to go.

Okay so this, up to now, is how I’m doing.

But how am I, what am I, eating?

Let’s find out, shall we?

“I have no problem with your body. You know that, right mate?” My ex asked me. He asked me this the morning after our youngest son’s graduation for which there was an insanely fun party afterward.

I made my World Famous Beef/Chorizo Burgers and grilled some Ribeyes. I celebrated not only the graduations of my boys but the eighteenth birthday of my youngest and the fact that it was full steam ahead for everyone in my family. There were kegs of Heineken brought in and various large bottles of Scotch and Rum. Yes not to worry, 90% of the alcohol came out after the underage younglings left to celebrate with their friends.

The ex always looked good to me. Even when he looked like absolute dogshit. He’s slender, fit and with eyes that I have to constanly resist the urge to get lost in. But after a few samplings of all the aforementioned alcohol he looked like a freaking Greek God. Yes, my resistance was shot to hell.

The morning/early afternoon after I woke up and saw the scale in the guest bathroom. I was hungover and felt as if someone had replaced all the joints in my body with rusted metal. So why did I step on that scale? Of course all of my longtime friends and readers know why but in the (hopefully) off chance that there are new readers here, first, welcome! I hope you like it here.

Oh the answer…BECAUSE I’M A FUCKING GLUTTON FOR PUNISHMENT.

Back to the ex. “Dave, do you hear me? I’ve never had a problem with your body. Don’t sweat this.”

“I’m glad you don’t!” I said. “It just so happens I have. I can’t believe I let it get here again. I knew I had gained and I’d been working on it. Just not enough, I guess.”

“This isn’t about whether or not you like it, mate” I continued. “It’s about me. I can’t keep on like this.”

“With all the events we’re doing up here you’re not going to try and go healthy and lite now, are you?” He asked.

“I should but I know myself all too well.” We left it there and continued with the weekend and we all had a great time.

I got home and really gave this some thought and being the ultimate anal retentive pain in the ass I am all of the things my doctor told me came back. “I can’t tell you when or if the pain you experience will ever go, David. It’s MS not the flu. Odds are you’re going to be in pain on some level, better or worse, for the rest of your life. I can also tell you that, hard as it may be to do, you’ll be much better off if you start losing weight.”

Okay I’m starting to get this now. What can I tell you? Once again, my longtime readers know I’m not as quick on the uptake as the rest of the human population. If you’re a first time reader, once again…WELCOME!

But yeah, being behind the curve is pretty much my natural state of being.

Two hundred and forty five FUCKING POUNDS! I’ve been bigger than this though. That doesn’t make this any better but about fifteen or sixteen years ago I was twelve pounds heavier than I am right now. So what happened? Name it, laziness, poor health, good smoke, etc. There have been good times and bad times and at times I worked on it and at others I said “Who gives a fuck?”

Turns out I should have….Turns out I DO!

“So basically you’re paying for a gym membership, and using that gym membership, to stay at to maintain your weight.” My oldest, Miguel, said to me when we talked about this over the phone.

“I guess. I thought it was getting better. I’ve been really trying to put in a more concerted effort at the gym.” I said.

“But your new path of soon to be Chef has expanded the waistline some. Though I will say you look better than you did when you were here for your birthday. So maybe you’re being harder on yourself than you should be, Dad.”

“Or I was just so bad that only until I kicked it into higher gear did I start losing again. Either way, I have to think about this and do something.”

“From what you’re telling me, Dad, it sounds like you either need to get back to eating better and keep up the level you’re doing at the gym. Or keep eating the way you have and kick it up another notch and spend 4 hours a day at the gym. “

“Not only do I NOT have the time for that, I don’t have the energy either. Sometimes I’m fighting through a lot of pain to just get to the damn gym.”

“Then why don’t you rethink that part and see about lower impact ways to exercise?”

“Son, I might have to do that sooner than I’d like but now’s not that time. And before you say it yes it’s partially a matter of pride. I’m not giving that up along with some of the other things I’ve had to give up recently. It’s not happening yet, you get me?”

I sounded desperate and I was. I was trying to hold on to what little activity I have left. I’m not as active as I used to be and it’s not about being afraid so much any more as it is about having to deal with money issues and health issues. Going to the gym gives me something to do when I’ve nothing else to do. I’ve met people and it resides in one of my favorite parts of town. I wasn’t giving that up.

“How’s the food blog going? I knew you were going to take some time off but it’s been a while now. What’s up with that?”

“Laziness, plain and simple. For a while it really was because I was dealing with the boys’ graduations and was burning up my cellphone minutes at all hours of the night and day. But these past few days it’s been nothing but laziness.”

“I liked it most when you challenged yourself to cook healthier a couple of months ago. How about challenging yourself again? Post healthier dishes. You say you’re not familiar with many things out there but you are and you’ve done a lot of studying up on things. Don’t discount the knowledge you already have combined with the fearlessness you’re showing in the kitchen.”

We finished up our conversation and I gave it much thought. One of the biggest (pun/no pun take your pick) insecurities I have is my weight. Am I alone in this? No. But I’ve never really addressed it. It has been my security blanket. It has given me reason to maintain the “everybody hates me” attitude because who likes the fat guy, really?

My ex doesn’t have a problem with it and that’s great. If I were marrying him again I’m sure I’d find some validation there. But I’m not and it’s not just about aesthetics now. It’s about my health.

So, in true balls to the wall fashion, if I’m going to do this I’m going to do it all the way. I’m talking about getting over my insecurity and fear of both my body and talking about it. But I’m not just going to talk about it. I’m going to do something about it also.

The Journey Has Just Begun…Part 3

Come join me…

Okay, so now what? Some say it’ll happen anyway. That the man might have been wrong on the day but that god will do the deed and on that terrible day all those doubters and haters will pay the ultimate price while those faithful will receive their reward.

I guess by their standards it sucks to be me.

I don’t know if any of that is true. I belonged to a religion that basically teaches that some will go to heaven while others will live here on earth. Maybe that’s true. Maybe all of it is bullshit, god will wipe out every man, woman, child and animal and start all over again. I don’t know.

There are those who have told me that because I love a man I’ll be one of the first to be destroyed. Hell, even my dear departed mother told me that I’m as good as dead. Maybe that’s the truth. Or maybe I’ll live until I’m a hundred and ten and die in the arms of the man I love surrounded by my loved ones. I don’t know.

I don’t know if I’ll live or die. I don’t know if tomorrow will come. I don’t know if my health will hold out. I don’t know if I’ll have a job past this week. Provided of course that this week will exist.

Here’s what I do know. I know that my boys are graduating High School in a few short days. And that as long as this world lives, as long as there’s breath in my body, they will live, survive and more than that they will thrive.

I know that there is an unparalleled amount of love in my heart. Love for my friends, my family and that special someone, whoever he is, should I be so lucky to find him. Oh yeah and I know he’ll be pretty damn lucky too…because I’m well worth it.

I know that one year ago on Memorial Day Weekend I was preparing to go into the hospital and begin subjecting myself to a treatment that lasted a few days. A treatment to dissolve lesions on my brain. It was hell. I flatlined. I hurt. It was the worst feeling and no amount of words can adequately express that. What happened remains with me and sometimes the thought of it scares me beyond belief. But I know that, for now at least, life goes on.

But I also know that I made it through all that shit. I know I’m lesion free. I know that sitting around wondering if the world will end or my legs will give out on me or any of that other crap is stupid.

I don’t know much. But I know that I have to live in the here and now. And I hope you all are too. Life, whether by divine intervention or natural causes, is just too damn short.

But then I was beaten and molested at the age of ten. When I tried telling my mother I was beaten again by her and called a liar. And this scene would repeat itself for far longer than I care to admit. But most of you, friends and readers, know the history.

After that I tried to move on with my life. I had kids, I found the love of my life right under my nose and for a while things were great. Until my youngest daughter died from pneumonia. And then a few years later my oldest in a most brutal manner, two bullets from a drugged out piece of trash who wanted to fire his gun out of a car window.

I bring this up because everything I was taught, all the non violence pearls of wisdom, went out the window when I woke up after being thrown down a flight of stairs. And any last vestiges of that teaching that might have remained died with my oldest daughter.

There are monsters in this world. There are people who exist behind a thin façade of righteous indignation but behind closed doors they do nothing but hate and control others through intimidation and fear. And when those options are exhausted, when they finish breaking your spirit, they turn to inflicting physical pain.

There are monsters in this world. And many of them do everything they do in the name of god. Someone very dear to me said once that religion is the biggest killer in the world. And while that may or may not be debatable one thing is not, many people kill and are killed in the name of whatever deity they worship.

There are monsters in this world. And one of them was the architect of one of the greatest attacks this country has ever endured. He manipulated people to do his bidding, he twisted them into doing what he wanted and maybe he even did believe that he was doing it all in the name of his god. But he still killed thousands of people and among those who died were five people I knew. One of who was a first responder who died while saving a mother and her child.

He was one of the best people I knew. He never wanted nor sought praise for his heroic acts and he performed some amazing feats in his time. In fact when I first met him and then also when we went on our first date he smelled of smoke. He had just saved a grandfather and his granddaughter from a burning car.

And the architect of the World Trade Center/Pentagon attacks killed him as surely as if he had put a bullet between his eyes.

There are monsters in this world. And while we as a society want to revel in being better than other countries and societies, while we would like to think of ourselves as morally superior, are we really? People are playing god with other people’s lives daily. People look away while others get screwed over both figuratively and literally.

And while many, even most, of them aren’t physically killing people or flying airplanes through buildings, are they really morally superior if they screw someone out of their livelihood or put them out on the street or hurt them in ways that leave scars on their souls and psyches that can never be healed?

The architect of the aforementioned attack was taken out with two bullets to his eye. And now there are many who say an eye for an eye (no pun intended) is not the way to go. That violence begets violence. They now say this was nothing but cold blooded murder and revenge. They say this wasn’t justice and though some of those who are saying this number among some of my closest friends I have to wonder what the hell are they thinking.

There is no amount of justice that can cover what this malevolent son of a bitch did. There is no “civil” punishment imaginable that this man could have been given that could have been accepted as expiation for his crimes.

How else could this have ended, with his incarceration? That’s unrealistic. He would have gone out in a gunfight, period. And even if he was captured alive what then, trial? We the taxpayers would foot the bill for his prison and court time, excuse me but that’s absolute bullshit.

What else, a military tribunal? Would they not sentence him to death? Guess what, we’re all spared that particular circus because it’s done.

There is no amount of justice that can adequately speak to this. But there are definitely monsters in this world.

And sometimes they need to simply be taken out. I won’t celebrate his passing. It won’t bring anyone that was killed back to life. But I won’t over think this either. Nor will I lose sleep over it.

He deserved what he got, period.

I’ve missed you, “Random Thoughts”.

If it weren’t for you I don’t think I’d have come as far as I have. I don’t think I’d have opened myself up once again to the universe as I recently have. I don’t think I’d be eager to go out there and try new things, meet new people, experience life and entertain the idea of a new love.

In just the past few years I have discovered, or rediscovered, a passion I thought I’d never ever experience. I’ve looked at myself in the mirror and shattered that mirror because I didn’t like the reflection staring back at me. I’ve set about the task of putting that mirror back together so that the new reflection is not only something I like…but something of which I can be proud.

My boys are graduating High School. They, and I, start classes in the fall. Cooking and food have become my obsessions. Through them I’ve learned, or have been reminded, that I’m far stronger and braver than I’ve allowed myself to be. I’ve learned that it’s okay to step out of the comfort zone and I’ve learned that, if permitted, comfort zone = solitary confinement. Or put another way still…prison.

My ex and I have become friends once more. No, it won’t and can’t go beyond that. But when you stop to consider that just barely over six months ago he and I despised each other, that’s major progress.

And my health. Well it appears that MS is behaving itself for now. Unfortunately it decided to give me a bit of a kick and some of the restored eyesight is permanently gone. But that’s okay. I allowed myself about two hours to get angry and depressed and then I looked into the mirror I’ve been reconstructing and said “You still have well over three quarters of your sight. Best not waste it!”

The food blog, “All Things Food & Fun” is gaining a following. I’ve received some emails from people asking me some food questions. They’re asking me, can you believe that? And as of this writing, six people have told me they’ve either tried, or have made it a goal to try, recreating some of the dishes I’ve written about.

In short, life’s pretty damn good. And I owe much of that to you, Random Thoughts. And yes, my family, dear friends and loyal readers as well.

David.

I think it’s about both. For without knowing where you’re headed, even if only just an idea that changes until you settle on something that works for you, how can the journey be anything but chaotic and full of more angst than anyone deserves?

Don’t misunderstand me, I understand the intent of those words. Those who focus too tightly on a goal, whatever it is, can lose sight of many awesome sights, sounds and people….and ultimately themselves. But without an idea of what you want, who you want to be, what you want to do, how can you even contemplate embarking on anything other than a trip which is nothing more than you wandering aimlessly through your life?

If you’re lucky you’ll come across a choice group of people that will do what they can to encourage you to set your sights on a goal. But more often than not you’ll find a greater majority of people who won’t give a damn about what you’re doing or where you’re going as long as you can give them what they need. As long as you can tend to their selfish desires they’ll say anything to you, seemingly do anything for you, until the day when you either have nothing else to give or wake up and tell them where to go.

Needless to say I’m speaking about what my life has been. But that’s the point here, that’s what it was. Where I’m going is far, far more interesting.

Last week many of my friends gathered together for my birthday. It was one of the best birthday celebrations I’ve had in a very long time. Why? Because I no longer felt filled with dread at seeing my friends. Once again, don’t misunderstand me, I love each and every one of the phenomenal people in my life. Whether in ways great or small they’ve each touched my life and taught me something. But they’ve also intimidated me.

They are all intelligent, educated, goal oriented people. They’re entrepreneurs, professionals, college graduates or soon to be college graduates and have the ability to draw people to them. I always felt like their groupie rather than their friend. I want to stress that one more time, I ALWAYS FELT THAT WAY. They never, ever made me feel in any way inferior or unworthy.

If you’ve read the post immediately before this one. You’ll have read that my 18 year old son sat me down for a long and painfully truthful conversation. It took a lot for him to say what he did and it took a lot for me to listen. He was absolutely spot on in what he told me. And over the past few weeks since that last post I’ve started taking stock of who I am.

The surprising part about doing that was discovering that I’m actually in pretty damned good shape. I know who I am and make no excuses for it. I realize I can be abrasive and while sometimes it isn’t intentional many times it is and I’m okay with that. I’m a loyal father and friend. And I will no longer allow myself to feel lesser than anyone.

Food has become an all consuming passion. Yeah, I know, big freakin surprise. But I know what I want to do with that passion. A while back I had a dream wherein I saw myself as the Chef/Owner of a small twenty or thirty seat restaurant. The people were all enjoying themselves and enjoying the food I cooked for them. It wasn’t flashy or full of a thousand items on the menu. It was small, intimate, comfortable and more importantly…it was mine.

I still see myself doing this. I write down all my recipes, only some of which make it onto my food blog (gotta save some for later, ya know?). While I haven’t been able to get back to school (more on that in the next couple of months) I’ve read up on restaurant management, on food safety and I’ve amazed myself on how many techniques I’ve learned over the past year and a half.

In short I’m working towards a new and exciting goal. And I’m meeting new people along the way and learning some pretty fascinating things about myself too. So it’s about both the journey and the destination for me. I can’t have one without the other.

Back to the birthday. It was amazing. And not just because they were all gathered to help me kick off what was a fantastic birthday week, but because I was able to breathe, to relax and just be with some of my nearest and dearest without second guessing myself…or hating myself.

A couple of days after that I went up to New York and spent some time with my family. My aforementioned 18 year old and I took a long walk through Manhattan. Though he had been there several times he wanted to see my New York. The parts of the town that I love and are a part of me. During that time he looked at me and said “Welcome back”

“I’m sorry?” I said.

“You are right now the man I knew you to always be. I saw it when you got off the plane.”

“I have you to thank for much of it, son.” I said.

“Of the two fathers I have you’re the one I rely on most. You’re the one who has taught me most. What I did was nothing less than selfish. I’m about to start college and I can’t do it if you’re not on top of your game.”

“Do me a favor then, son? If you ever feel the need to be that selfish and bold and brave again, do it! And as for college, you’re going to be just fine. You’re going to do remarkable things.”

“We all are, Dad. I think we all are.“

Friends and readers, don’t waste another moment wondering about the maybes and what ifs. If you’ve already done this, keep it going! Live, love and make every day a new and fantastic memory!

Thank you for letting me share some of the most turbulent, exciting and terrifying parts of my life with you. Thank you for the encouragement you’ve given me and know that I take your support with me wherever I go.

Now I have to get back out there. We all have lives to live and extraordinary things to do. I’ll be back here posting regularly soon. But not just yet….

If you’ve followed my postings on this or my other blog, Heart, Soul & Spirit, you’ll know that in recent years my life has been one hell of a roller coaster ride and not all in a good way. Everything went to hell for a very long time. I was hurt very deeply by a couple of people who I considered among my nearest and dearest friends. I lost a job that meant a lot to me due in large part to my stupidity and because of my misplaced loyalty to those aforementioned “friends” and my health dealt me a blow that I’m only now coming to terms with.

After going about as low as I’ve ever been, and in fact hitting rock bottom, I began to start picking myself up. And while it would probably sound extraordinary to say I did it all on my own I can’t say that. For there are a couple of people whose unyielding love and faith in me gave me the much needed boost and oft times needed kick in the tail that spurred me on to realize and understand that life is still very much worth living.

To those people, first and foremost she who is my sister and best friend, the young men I’m honored to call son and yes, even he who has quite unexpectedly become my younger brother from another mother, all I can say is I owe you a debt I’ll never ever truly be able to repay. I thank you and from the bottom of my heart and with every fiber of my being…I love you all very much.

There are others, the Magnificent Angel who has touched my life in ways unimaginable. She who along with the aforementioned sister is one of my greatest fans, friends and sources of love and strength. These phenomenal people move me in ways that are best left unexplained for words are truly inadequate to describe them.

Back to that life altering moment, I was told by my son, Stephan, that “we need to have a conversation”. Use of the word “conversation” is code for “serious talk”. When one of my three young men invoke that word it means “drop everything, Dad because we need to talk NOW”.

“I’m worried about you, Dad” This isn’t surprising coming from him. Not that it doesn’t mean the world to me that he worries, I love him for that and many other things. It’s just that he worries about EVERYONE. He is the self appointed protector of the family. And let me tell you, we are all the better for it because you couldn’t ask for a better guardian. Take it from me, I’ve seen him in action and all I can say is I’m damn glad he’s on my side.

“Why?” I asked.

“I know you’re starting to do better. I know you’re working hard and you seem to be in a better mood. But you don’t look like you’re having fun. Are you having fun, Dad?”

“I am. Maybe not as much as I used to but in some new ways and besides, I need to concentrate on trying to get where I want to be. Son, I was doing nothing for too many years. I got to keep focused now.”

“But it looks like you’re only having doing things with the same people. Don’t you want to meet new people, Dad? Don’t you want to meet someone special again? Your lovelife can’t end with your ex husband.”

“You mean your father” I interrupted.

“Yeah, him.” He stopped and waited for the brief tension to end. He and his other father have some issues. They’re working them out, thankfully. But it’s still rough going. I can’t blame the kid though. Up until recently my ex was a true jackass.

“Steph, I’ve gone out a few times and I’ve met some guys. You have nothing to worry about.”

“You just seem like you’re hiding behind your writing and in the kitchen, Dad. You’re meeting guys for quick nights but you’re not doing anything else! You’re hiding, Dad! You can’t tell me you’re not and it’s hurting me because you’re the greatest man I’ve ever known! How can you teach me and my brothers to go out in the world and do great things when you’re only taking baby steps? You’re bigger and better than that! You’re my Dad! You’re the man who held us all together! You’re the one who’s writing and cooking and trying to turn your life around. Why ain’t you turning all the way around?” He blurted out in one breath as if to indicate that if he stopped he wouldn’t have said any of it.

I couldn’t get mad at him for yelling. I couldn’t get offended because he hurt my feelings. I could only think on what he had just said and acknowledge it for what it was; the truth. Yes, I have tried to turn my life around. But I’m now using what I’m doing as a way to shut the world out except on those occasions where I have to deal with it. And here was the Family Protector holding the mirror up to me and telling me to take a good, hard look at myself and what I’m doing…or rather not doing.

I had to honor him by telling him the truth. “I’m scared, Steph. I’m not going to lie. You know some things about my life but you don’t know much of it and while at one point I was a ruthless son of a bitch, that isn’t my nature. I’m way too trusting for the most part and I try to believe in the good in others and because of that I was hurt, far worse than you could imagine. But I know I have to try. So I’m working on that which I know needs work. You may think they’re baby steps, but it’s still important and needs doing. But the thought of being hurt, whether by friend or by lover, to the extent that I was is something that frightens me.”

“I never said it wasn’t important. But I’ve heard you turn down invitations to go out because you want to cook or write but then you don’t do either. I’ve heard you back down from doing things because you’re afraid of how your MS will react. It just looks like you’re letting your fear kick your ass and you should be kicking ITS bloody ass! You’re David Basora! You need to remember who you are. You’re my father and no loser! Do you remember what you told me years ago? You said ‘none of my sons are losers and that includes you’. Well ain’t none of my fathers are losers, even the other one, but especially you!”

This was my life altering event. He and I discussed more at length but, well, you get the general idea.

I woke up the next day and remembered something I heard once “the only way to break a bad habit is…well…to just break the bad habit”. So I decided right there to break the bad habit of being constantly negative or sarcastic. Don’t get me wrong, the sarcasm is still there but I’m learning when and how to use it. I like being happy. I like walking into the pit where I work with a smile on my face. I don’t do it for anyone at my job, it’s for me. The side benefit that they now never know what to expect from me and therefore they’re always on edge around me is just that….A REALLY COOL SIDE BENEFIT!

I’m happy that I’m taking the steps, baby and otherwise, that I am in changing my life. I’m happy for the people in my life. I’m happy, and extremely proud, that I’ve taught my sons to stand up and do things and if necessary speak the truth to people who need it, me included.

I’m happier still that as of this writing, I am completely brain lesion free and my legs have completely healed from being hit by a car back in December. I am proud of what I’ve done and what I want to do because it’s not just an abstract idea any longer. I can actually picture myself doing that which I so very much want to do and now that it’s real to me I can work even harder to make it a reality.

But I need more balance in my life. The only way I’m really going to expand my understanding of things, be it food, writing or people, is to get out there and live. My health is no longer an overriding factor. My sons are grown and are doing their own thing. And as for cooking, well, time management has taught me I can still do that and not waste a moment. In short, the only thing holding me back now…is me.

So, to that end, I will be taking the next few weeks off from writing “Random Thoughts” and I will be redesigning my food blog. I’m not ending this blog or any of my others. It’s just about time I get out there and live.

As Lucille Ball said in “Mame”…

“LIFE’S A BANQUET! AND MOST POOR SONS OF BITCHES ARE STARVING TO DEATH!”

Deepest Love
D.

While at one point that really pissed me off it doesn’t anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I wish they did. I wish they understood how important this is to me. Writing is, as I’ve stated before, lonely work. Writers don’t perform nor do we stage events where thousands attend. We don’t get that instant response and gratification. We don’t get our validation or recognition, unless already established, by hundreds or thousands flocking to see us.

We write mainly for ourselves and hope we get others to agree with us, or even disagree with us. But what we want is a discussion. We want what we say to matter. Many of us are attempting to add our voice to the vast human collective.

But for me, this doesn’t seem to be happening. I mean, I can’t even get the majority of my friends and family to acknowledge me so how can I expect to get the recognition of strangers, right? At least that’s how one editor just recently put it to me and I can’t say I disagree with that.

But here’s the thing, I go back to what I’ve quoted in times past. My mentor and friend told me that I should first write for myself then others. If what I write is not true to me, if it doesn’t reflect what’s in my heart and mind, then it’s worthless. My problem is that while I’m writing what’s in my heart and mind, it doesn’t seem worthy of acknowledgment save for a choice few. And while I’m grateful for that and i appreciate the comments that have been left, obviously my words are largely falling on deaf ears.

Much of what I’ve written here is about my personal growth, all of what I’ve written here in fact. And I intend for it to go on. I can’t and won’t stop for anyone or anything. Through this blog I’ve learned much, I’ve begun to understand who I truly am and more importantly I’ve learned that in order to grow, sometimes you have to let go.

To that end, it is my most profound hope and wish that my friends read my work, but I’ll not be sending it out to them any longer. If they’re really interested they have countless emails I’ve sent in which to find the link. If they’re not, that’s fine. I just don’t see why I should bother anymore if they don’t.

I will continue to write and post. I will continue to send it out to those who have lovingly and graciously taken time to subscribe or comment. I will also continue to find new venues and ways in which to build my readership. Because what I write may not be adventurous or exciting or even funny for the most part, but it is from the heart. And I have to believe that there’s a place for my work somewhere out there, even if my readership doesn’t include those I hold most dear to me.

There will be some who read this and think I’m throwing a tantrum or getting melodramatic. I can’t change that opinion but I assure you all this is anything but that. I’m neither angry nor pouting. I’ve just realized my growth relies solely on me, not them.