Everyday I hold on to this invisible thing we as humans call hope. I wake, I look at your photos. Some of them with the family we had together some of them with just you and I. Please know I think of you every day and every night. There hasn’t been a days since your mother told me she didn’t want to be my wife or to have me in our family anymore that I haven’t worried about you and your sister. There hasn’t been day since those words were uttered that I haven’t cried and hoped you’d find me. I don’t understand why we can’t have a life together. Sadly lots of families experience divorce and they still keep close. Why did our family not deserve that chance. So many people have judge me unfairly during times where I was not capable of making good choices. I was either way beyond knowing what to do or so pumped full of chemotherapy and radiation treatments for cancer that I couldn’t think or properly care for myself. Unfortunately I didn’t have people to take care of me. I couldn’t take care of myself. The combination of the Parkinson’s, the shock of the divorce and then the cancer was to much for me as man , a human being, a father, brother and friend to bare alone. The judgement passed on me by my peers was harsh and unforgiving. Since those days I’ve removed myself from the equation. I live a simple life now. The mountain has been good to me. I garden, raise a few animals and go about my day like this is all what was supposed to happen, though I know it wasn’t. There are days it feels like I woke up in a different life. Like the timeline I was on ruptured and I woke in another. One where I wasn’t happy and healthy.
One where my life had been torn apart from inside out. I don’t know why we don’t speak or share life. Hope, hope is what I have to hold onto. My body and mind are failing more and more quickly, I hope in your life you realize that I never stopped loving you, missing you or needing you in my life. I was literally kept away from you by the wealth of the family and their ability to out do anything and everything I could do. On that I hope you are well and thriving in whatever your life has in-store for you. I love dearly Andersen Prewitt.
I sit blindly in the dark waiting for you to come. I’ve seen your face face before, yes more than once . Years ago when you lifted me out of the culverts waters and spoke my true name. Then in year we crashed the car and I woke to your voice telling me to stay and everything was going to be okay. Then once again you came to me in the night when my body and mind were full cancer and chemicals. Now I sit blindly in the dark and wait for you to take me home. I’m tired and lonely, faced with argument and alcohol. Substance ms I left behind years ago creep back into my life and cloud the truths of what I’ve been through. This time I’m ready for you. My children don’t care to know my face and can’t remember my heart , dedication and love. I’ve no real home , certainly no real purpose in life anymore. So here I sit blindly waiting in dark for the light to take me home. This body can barely carry its own and the friends of the passed have turned to shadows of today. A family torn to pieces , a life wasted and soon to be forgotten like some many before me. I’ve grown tired and more lonely in my mind and body than ever before. I yearn to be in the UK with rolling hills and forever green. Wherever home is , that’s where I long to be, home a place I’ve not been in years . I hope you’ve found yours.B-2021
It’s been a while since I’ve had anything of substance to share that wasn’t tainted with my anger, deep deep grief and unyeilding sense of loss I’ve carried with me the days and months that my life truly fell apart. Divorce, death, cancer, chronic pain, abuse at the hands of trusted family and friends. Sadly it seems this is what my world became during my battle with cancer and during the time I should have been recovering from, honestly what probably should have killed me. I was fighting for my life and sanity. Now I sit 3 years safe in the mountain home hiding from everything and everyone. It’s almost my 51st birthday and I’ve I’ve barely bought new clothes or furnishings of any kind since M tossed out my stuff and since Paula tried to blackmail me and my family by tossing me to desert and stealing what was left of a life I’d never back and who knows if I’ll ever truly recover from the life that’s been given me.
When I was younger I learned very very early that the world was an evil place. In doing so I looked for the good in everyone, this to fault by holding onto false hopes that a person would ever change the way I saw the goodness in them. I learned that just knowing where an issue comes from or that it is an issue at all is entirely different that possessing the ability to know how to fix it. In a few short days assuming I live to see my birthday I’ll be 51. I’m thankful for the people I have in my life, though I will always carry the grief of a broken father. I don’t where my son is, I don’t know why he and I don’t speak or why we stopped speaking. I just hope he knows how much I love him and miss him. I hope he can forgive me for my part in the loss of his family constuct. I hope someday he and many others understand that so did I…. Much love and happy almost birthday to me.
Special prayers to those who passed before me, Dad, Grandma Ruth, Grandma Pat, Josh and probably more in the month of May than I care to remember. Be well out there in the land of pandemic and mayhem. Be brave, be bold and thrive in the life you have. You never know when everything can change. B-2021