Being confronted with something that you've "known" to be true can be devastating. While simply "knowing" it can provide grief and pain, the truth of it, when fully understood can wreck you. I have "known" some things for some time now, but those things were brought from my fevered imagination of "knowing" to the full light of day recently. And I regret ever having "known" - then or now.

On to a different, yet equally morbid, topic: nightmares. I have never been one to have many nightmares. In fact, I can still remember 2 of my worst. The first I define as a nightmare simply because it was boring. It was as a child and I had just watched a TV show that involved Chinese labor in railroads and mines. The whole nightmare consisted of row upon row of workers going back and forth with picks and loads of dirt. I can remember wishing I could get out of the dream. The second - which I have had on more than one occasion - involved my dorm in college. I was in my room when the radio changed channels on its own. As I walked over I began to be pulled down through the floor and into Hell. I have rarely felt so frightened.

Recently, I have had several dreams that I would consider nightmare and have woken from them scared, demoralized and depressed. They involved my wife.

The first was generally about her making me look like a bad parent in order to get the kids in court. I cannot stress enough that this was a dream - she HAS NOT made any effort to make me look bad in any context in regard to the kids. The second dream involved her trying to convince me that an affair was over while secretly going on with it behind my back. To the best of my knowledge, this too is just a dream and not a reality. Nightmares. Demoralizing and depressing and a reflection of my stress and worries. I hope to leave these in the realm of dreams and I will work to keep myself from dragging my fears into the waking world.

In honor of 43 years, here is a website I found: http://www.43things.com/

I just realized that life is a fan of Blondie. How else to explain life constantly singing:

One way or another I'm gonna find ya
I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha...

Research seems to show that having someone to look up to, a role model, can help build resilience. Resilience helps us weather storms and trauma in our lives and seems to be an important factor in survival. I am lucky, I have two.

Neither one was famous, but each touched the lives of many. The nation and world at large may forget who they were, may never have truly known them, but I won't. One I knew a brief time, the other for much of my life. They were my dads.

We often forget how important dads can be. I do not want to offend anyone, but I think today we minimize and belittle the male role in the family. In our rush to be supportive of single mothers, we have left behind the fathers and dads. I know, we have Father's Day, but it is a tiny reflection of Mother's Day - almost an afterthought. I do not want to diminish mothers, Mother's Day or females here; I believe we should celebrate our sisters, wives, mothers and daughters with all the fervor and adoration we can muster. It's just that I think we need to do the same for our fathers and dads. And yes, I make a distinction between fathers and dads: The father is the biologic guy, the male genetic half and the dad is the guy that raised you. I would hope that these two would more and more be the same guy, but I digress.

For me, my dad and father were two different people. My biologic parents were divorced when I was quite young and I do not remember him. My dad, I remember. He was not perfect, he was not some 1950's image of fatherhood. He was, though, right for me. Maybe someday I can be more specific, but the man he was is something that I have aspired to. I do not think I am there, and will never know if I make it. I can only guess at what he would say of my life and its direction. I have not lived up to some standards, but I think I have surpassed in others. It is my understanding of some of his core beliefs, that has held much of me together and forced me to push forward. Even when I am gripped by the morose feelings that inspired my last post about being a failure.

My second role model and inspiration was my father-in-law. It seems that I knew him for such a short time before he passed away. I feel intimately connected to him, though. I feel as if I was truly his son, and I thank him for making me feel that way. He was different from my dad, but in my mind the two were complimentary. Where one lagged, the other excelled. It is really hard to express in words exactly what I mean; it is difficult to distill how these two men complimented each other.

It amazes me how these two men can sum up for me the essence of fatherhood. The rich vision of responsibility and joy that is fatherhood seems complete in these two. They are my heroes and I miss them.

It is not uncommon in some Christian circles to talk of the enemy coming against you. By this it is meant that hardships and difficulties in ones life represent an attack of the enemy; an attempt to pull us away from the grace of God. I do not discount this idea and believe that it does happen. Standing here, looking in the mirror, I have come to see that I have reached this point in my life, not because of an attack of the enemy, but because of me. My one unerring gift seems to be to make bad choices. In making those choices, I become a failure. In becoming a failure, I have become who I am today.

I have failed as a husband. I have failed as a father. I have failed financially. I have failed in business. I am a failure at work. I have failed socially. I have failed on an interpersonal level. I have failed spiritually.

I am not asking for pity or comment. I am not asking for recognition. I am not asking for people to tell me about what they perceive as my successes. I am not fishing for compliments. I am looking in the mirror. And I do not like what I see.

I have tried to change, and have failed. I have tried to correct my path, and have failed.

I do not know where to turn or to hide. I am a pariah in love, relationships, socially, and to an extent at work. I have no home, just a dwelling. There is no place for me; I do not fit in.
I will go on, because I have to go on. I will continue the charade and hope I produce as little damage as possible to the people that I touch. I can only hope that tomorrow I will feel differently.

Coincidence is a marvelous thing. It is one of those things that make you second guess the world and the way it runs. It strengthens the perception that other forces are at work around you. I had one of those coincidences today. I was thinking about parts of my life, past and present and then I read the following from a book I am reading:

"With women the best part is the discovery. There's nothing like the first time, nothing. You don't know what life is until you undress a woman for the first time. A button at a time, like peeling a hot sweet potato on a winter's night" - The Shadow of the Wind, Carlos Ruiz Zafon, p91

Now, I am not going to say what I was thinking, but this statement made me smile. It is a small, but simple truth. And it is the small and simple truths that I miss in my life. Perhaps that was what I was thinking about...