The Son He Doesn’t Have To Be

 

Have you ever been a step-parent? Have you ever been a stepchild? I grew up in a house where I had both of my biological parents there. Did you notice that I did not use the word ‘home’, that I simply said house? Just because I had both of my biological parents living within the same four walls as I did, this did not mean that it was automatically a ‘home’. I had a great Mom but my Dad was severely lacking in his human skills. I left home at 17 because of how much of a hell-hole he made of our family life. He died when I was 37 and it took me till I was about 40 before I could forgive him of his ways toward me. Only when I was able to say to myself that he really was an ‘a–hole’ and that he also was mentally ill before I was able to forgive him. I know that I asked my Mom a couple of times before she died if Dad really was my Dad, asking her if maybe Dad thought that I really wasn’t his as I was trying to find a way to come to grips with how horribly he treated me and if there really was a ‘why’ that made any sense. I thought that if maybe he thought that I really wasn’t his, that if he thought Mom had cheated on him that this might be the reason he was such an a– toward me but she told me no both times about the issue. There is an old term about ‘beating you like you’re a redheaded step child’ that might come into play with me but that wasn’t it, I am of his own blood. I brought this up because I was the only blonde child and the only left-handed child, so I thought, well maybe. I did not ever experience a step-parent situation even though I honestly felt having no Dad in our house would have been much better than having a hate filled drunken maniac dominating our household.

I grew up determined not to be anything like my Dad’s example of a human being though I did make many parenting mistakes of my own. I married a lady in Texas who had a son who was 11 at the time we met and married, he is now 46 and married with a child/son of his own and as far as I know he is a great Dad who loves his son very much. 17 years ago I remarried to a lady in Florida who had a son who was 6 at the time, his biological Dad had committed suicide when he was 4. This son was a bit difficult because he didn’t believe or understand that both of us really did love him. He was about 16 before he actually ‘got it’, once he did see that light he now for the past 7 years has become a great child to both of us, especially to me. He is now 23 and a year ago his Mom and I bought a house that has a full 3 bedroom 1 bath apartment with a ‘walkout’ basement. One of the big factors in buying this house was so that he could live there if he wanted to, and he did.

Ten years ago his Mom and I would never have thought he could come so far in his development as a person, as an adult.  I am sure that none of the three of us would have thought that after he turned 18 that he would want anything to do with us or quite frankly us to do with him. What changed him? I believe it was him coming to the understanding of the fact that he really was loved, by both of us. He is a grown man now, there is nothing that says he has to live in this basement apartment, he chooses to. A couple of years ago he told me something that really stuck in my heart, that meant a whole lot to me. He told me, “Dad, all the good that is in me is because of you”. When a child you have raised loves you even when they are adults and there is nothing that says they have to do so or to even pretend that they do, that is very gratifying to one’s Soul. About 20 or so odd years ago there was a Country Music song that came out called “the Dad he doesn’t have to be” about a man stepping into a marriage with a woman who had a son already and how this man performed his role as a Dad. I am blessed to have two sons who were not biological to me that still love me, even though they do not have any obligation to have to do so. This is why the title of this note to you “the son he doesn’t have to be.” I am a strong believer in blood family yet I have learned that blood alone does not guarantee they will love you. I have also learned that someone who is not blood to you can still absolutely be “family” and love you even more that those who are blood to you do.

My Name Is Nod: (About The Garden Of Eden)

OF THE SEVERAL HUNDRED POEMS THAT I HAVE WRITTEN THROUGH THE YEARS THIS IS MY OWN PERSONAL FAVORITE.

This is a poem that is designed to make you think, to get you to maybe get the book of Genesis out for another look-see. Maybe, if you are not good at world geography you might want to dig into some maps of the known world of about 5,000 years or so ago. I hope that you enjoy it, quite a bit of research went into making this poem be accurate. Nod is “The Land” that is just east of the Garden of Eden.

Do you know me

Listen, does not the wind whisper

Do not the mountains echo my name

How is it you do not know me

Did not the man Moses lay out the path to my door

For two of your human generations

The Valley of The Garden of God

Was my western door

My Sister, Lake Urmia was fast a sleep

Within her no bounty ever found

As the West Gate of God’s Garden she guarded

Now she is but salty ground

Did not my mountains rumble

And spew forth fire and rocks

How is it you can not find me

Can you not hear the ticking of the clock

Many of your years ago now

One man came forth unto me

Spewed forth from the Garden of God

He came unto me, with a mark upon his head

So all my inhabitants would know

That whosoever dared touch him

Would also soon be dead

The Garden has now so long been gone

It’s land like mine is scorched

The Face of God once again I seek

But when He does once again return

Will He echo my words to you

Child, how is it you do not know me

In My Time

O Lord, the things I have seen in my days I have been given

O Lord, the things by your grace to me You have shown

South-West Virginia and Your beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains

Iron Ridge culture, hard working poor white trash, 1950’s.

“I’m going to start remembering now”

These, the first words I ever remember

Spoken aloud, words from within my own soul

Inner words, everyone has a soul, I know They speak to all

Placed all the rooms in our little home, which I still remember

Outside, counted all the concrete blocks front to back

Two years old, friends how do we do and know such things?

Born with math skills, but look at Mozart what at three he could play.

Summertime, setting on the front porch, my two siblings by my side

Walk across the dirt road to the wood gate

Sunny day, watching the cattle on the other side

Mom gave us each a nickel for us a Coke to buy, a great treat at the time

Walked to the Shell just below the house that sheltered us five.

O how hard it was on Mom, to always be so poor

Minimum wage factories, workers just chafe on the rich mans floor

I guess it’s easier on the pre -school children, the classes they don’t know

School starts, you see other children, realities you had not seen before.

Mid 1960’s, poor flight to to west, a better life your hoping for

You trade the Blue Ridge for the Great Sioux’s Black Hills

O Lord, on at trip like this, the things a child’s eyes ingest

Moon light shines, illuminates the beauty of the big rigs

August Rattle Snakes playing in the sand, 114 in the shade

30 days later, chest high snow in September, O what a land.

One year later, hoping for better, for a good job toward Windy we ran

When you are so poor, you spend your whole life trying to escape it

But even young, I knew that pain, always present in my Mamma’s eyes

Life is always hard with an alcohol disease riddled parent

Knowing that you are hated and he beats you with glee

Even harder on the child when they know other adults know and see

They never ever come to your aid, they always just let it be.

Life’s early hardships, good or bad, they help create the person inside

About forth or fifth grade I walked into your door Lord

My life long rock, my life many times You have saved

Poor white boy, learning of life in the mid-west, with a Hill Billy mind

With some knowledge of Dakota’s  beautiful Black Hills

These life’s lessons, good and bad, always living behind my eyes.

Now I am aged with gray beard and store bought eyes

Now the projector in my mind plays me many memories

Occasionally I see some of the good I have done in my life

Though I do try to castrate these pictures from my mind

A lofty heart leads to evil, I wish to give ego no quarters to hide.

In my life I have mastered the art of many evils

O how I wish I could say that this thing was a lie

But when you have seen and have known pure evil

Pay some attention to the news, evil all around us resides

Demons have no fear of man, they will lie, looking you in the eyes

They will tell you they are Angels, for your best interest they care inside

Do not be deceived, mainly in the worlds capitals they hide.

In my time Lord You have shown me many things

Through Your Spirit You have given me some site

In life it is so easy to become a manic-depressive

You have so plainly shown me our planets plight and demise

Our leaders and the media so filled with venom to Your light

Evil so blinded and hungry for more power, money, and pride.

I know that by the time the trumpet sounds

I will once again be just dust upon the ground

Though I cringe for all our children, and theirs

The battle of the Nations against their Creator

For left behind loved ones, Armageddon lies ahead.

As the Lord and His Angels return to fight from the clouds overhead

The Demons pre-judged, to Hell they will now be thrown

Leaving the poor defrauded people to fight God and His Angels alone

They are now like grapes in the press, confused, disillusioned, and dead.

Lord I thank You that this event I will not have to see, “In My Time”.