Letters to my son: page 734

I wish I knew what to say. I wish knew where you were or what happened. I had cancer , you came to see me , I didn’t die, I tried so hard to live so that we could have a life together. I know it wasn’t the life we wanted to have or that we had as a family. I’m sorry for that change in our lives, but please understand that all the choices were not mine. Many of those choices were made for me or my reactions to things around me. I never meant for one second to lose you in all of this. Slowly as the chemo-brain fog and radiation treatments fade. In between the moments where Parkinson’s disease doesn’t have me running every which way. I see things clearly and yet I don’t understand why you are not here with me from time to time . Why did you have to disappear and where did you go. What happened between us that would take you so far away. I can’t imagine myself ever doing anything that would make you leave like this. I tried to give our family everything I didn’t have growing up and in many ways I did. We wanted for nothing. Little did I know the thing I didn’t give you was myself. Even though I gave you everything of myself , after 50,60,70 hrs of work a week providing for the family. There was barely waking time to be a family. Though my mind is filled only with joyful memories I can only assume that your are not. For if your childhood wasn’t the gift I thought it was I’m truly sorry. I did everything, gave everything I had and in the end when I got sick , it felt like everyone left . Left me to die , let me have this burden of Parkinson’s alone with no family to find shelter upon. No home to come home to. Then came the cancer and soon to follow a line of humans who would have rather taken everything from me rather than see me well. Tisha and Paula. Shame on you. So here I am yet again writing to you, writing to the world cruel as it is. Where are you? What happened to you? To us. I am here , I alive, not entirely lost to my diagnosis, painting and writing, growing green things and food to eat. Living a lift inspired by living well. I’m not rich anymore, I don’t have anything to call my own. No Physical reminder of my past. All that stolen from me in Arizona. Everything is worked for all my life of gone. Every gift, memory of my life ripped from me. Now I am truly and only a representative of myself. No fancy clothes or nice things, no house of my own nor future to offer. But I am and have always been a kind and gentle soul. Generous and kind to a fault. Naive to the true evils of man and womankind alike. I miss you my son and I miss my step daughter as well though it’s odd to say it that way as I never raised you as a step anything. So here I reach out knowing not what else to do. Here I leave a story written from me to you. In hopes before I’m gone , before PD takes my fully my ability to even recognize your face I hope with every heartbeat and every breath that I’ll have the chance to know you again. Wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, please know that you are loved and cherished, missed dearly with every fiber of my being. I love you boo and wish I knew what to say or what to do to make you come back to me. Sincerely your Dad, your father. Benjamin M Prewitt.

Art, for the soul,heart and mind.

Greetings and salutations. I hope the day has found you well. Here is a look a the Salem Hospital show. 

Thanks again for stopping by today. The show will be up through February 🎉. If you have the chance stop on by. Much love always. Benjamin-2018 

“Be brave be bold and thrive in the life you have.”

Morning muse

There you are so far away now yet still my soul feels your heart beating. I feel the tears rolling down your cheeks. The silent sobs in the shower.

All so farway yet pounding in my heart, mind and soul. Why did leave so swiftly in the night? Such butterfly kisses wound deeply now. Each breath burns and chokes as your tears fall through time from your heart to mine. Forevermore to scar my heart.

Morning muse.

Benjamin-2017

The morning mile~ and some paint.

To be honest I’m not sure if it was a mile or not. This morning I woke around 2a pst to gentle breeze and a summer rain. Greeted by the the late night crowed coffee in hand I wished them well and took a walk to find the stillness in my life that I’ve seem to have lost.
What I did find was the world or parts of it were still and peaceful for me. I brought some back to share with you.

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Closed

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Wall

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Angel Wing

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Up

There was also some painting that was done today. Still wet as I type, still waiting for me to return.

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This piece has a secret, she’ll be two when she’s done.

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It must have been a dream
This piece will change a great deal but will look similar when completed.
Both are very early in development.
Thanks for stopping in today as always it’s lovely to have you with me.
And please remember to always Be Brave, Be Bold and Thrive in the life you have, you never know when things will change….

Benjamin
“A life in progress”
2014

Words on Pain and Parkinson’s

Sometimes I feel me slipping away..
Beneath the pills and pain.
Silently watching the shakes and quakes.
Silently screaming as the words fail time and time
again to come from my mind to my mouth.
The worst nightmare one can imagine.
To slowly slip away in both body and mind.
To watch helplessly as one fades….fades away…..
Like a cannibal chef slowly carving off slices,..one…piece at a time…
Taken away by the sandman.
Rotten bastard that he is…
So much memories hovering just above,….Just out if reach.
It’s comical to watch a life fade away in a burning bright cosmic flash of brilliance dimmed by time, fear and pain.
More pills create more movement
More movement creates
More pain… More pain creates more pills
and the circle is complete.

B~xx
2014
3:35a pst

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**even in Latin it says I’m fucked.

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