What you send into cyberspace stays there forever, so it's been said. Long after I'm gone, my words will survive somewhere in the clouds. For me, it's easier to find my voice in the written word than in the spoken word. Most of the time...
When you're a kid, adults don't tell you everything. They wait until you're older to explain some things. They do this with good intentions, to protect kids from the hard realities of the adult world for as long as possible. Kids are naturally curious. They ask questions, legitimate questions. Such as: "Why don't I have a Dad?"
Why didn't Mittens come back from the hospital?
Answer: You do have a dad; everyone has one. OK, then why don't we see him?
As for when is Mittens coming home from the hospital; this is where it gets complicated. Mittens isn't coming back from the hospital; she is too sick. Is this child old enough to understand death, prison? Or artificial insemination? Those questions can only be answered by the heart.
Someday my favorite number one granddaughter might land on this blog, long after its writer has moved on to the cloud planet wherein Morrison and Jimi and Janis and John dwell.
Granddaughter raises legitimate questions, one of which is about her dad's dad, and I have old photos of him to show her. In my heart I feel she is still too young to be told about drug problems and jail time and forced relocation due to crazy rising rents and long distance separations.
Number of times I've moved since our son was born, not including stays in motels while searching for apartments: nine.
The answer I give my granddaughter now is this: Sometimes people who love each other become separated from each other because of situations in life they can't change, and because of the actions of other people.
That is the truth; the big picture minus a lot of complex details that will only generate more confusion and potentially, stress.
There are people who open mail addressed to other people and don't give it to the person it was sent to. It's a federal crime to steal mail, and it damn well should be, but when it's a family member stealing your mail, how do you fight back? If you don't get your mail, how do you know it was stolen? It's the perfect crime.
No amount of "missing" or misfiled paperwork or false verbiage or innuendo can erase the truth. In the end, I do believe the truth will always come out. Truth, like love is eternal.
When you're a kid, adults don't tell you everything. They wait until you're older to explain some things. They do this with good intentions, to protect kids from the hard realities of the adult world for as long as possible. Kids are naturally curious. They ask questions, legitimate questions. Such as: "Why don't I have a Dad?"
Why didn't Mittens come back from the hospital?
Answer: You do have a dad; everyone has one. OK, then why don't we see him?
As for when is Mittens coming home from the hospital; this is where it gets complicated. Mittens isn't coming back from the hospital; she is too sick. Is this child old enough to understand death, prison? Or artificial insemination? Those questions can only be answered by the heart.
Someday my favorite number one granddaughter might land on this blog, long after its writer has moved on to the cloud planet wherein Morrison and Jimi and Janis and John dwell.
Granddaughter raises legitimate questions, one of which is about her dad's dad, and I have old photos of him to show her. In my heart I feel she is still too young to be told about drug problems and jail time and forced relocation due to crazy rising rents and long distance separations.
Number of times I've moved since our son was born, not including stays in motels while searching for apartments: nine.
The answer I give my granddaughter now is this: Sometimes people who love each other become separated from each other because of situations in life they can't change, and because of the actions of other people.
That is the truth; the big picture minus a lot of complex details that will only generate more confusion and potentially, stress.
There are people who open mail addressed to other people and don't give it to the person it was sent to. It's a federal crime to steal mail, and it damn well should be, but when it's a family member stealing your mail, how do you fight back? If you don't get your mail, how do you know it was stolen? It's the perfect crime.
No amount of "missing" or misfiled paperwork or false verbiage or innuendo can erase the truth. In the end, I do believe the truth will always come out. Truth, like love is eternal.
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