Sperm donor…

When I was 37 I went through…wait…when I was 37 plus a few years after, I went through a very difficult divorce. When it started, our children were 11 and 4. I cannot describe how hard it was for me to be the one booted out of the house. I landed about a half mile from the house, with an eccentric roommate. He locked his bedroom door at 9:59 each night. But at least he welcomed me in, for a month.

That said, as the divorce crap carried on, my once dear wife liked to refer to me as the “Sperm Donor” (and still does) and in her mind that was all that I was. Her father, also divorced from her Mother, said he was labelled the same. Together we figured there was this mindset of, “Get the guy, get the kid’s, get rid of the guy”. That seemed to be the way their side of the family did things. Sadly, my daughter has being playing out the same old script with her two kids recently.

But point is, ONE — Biology…Zoology actually…RULES…meaning most women are programmed to reproduce. Ok, ok, I’m ok with that. BUT, due to the way culture has changed over the millennia, it’s made it much easier to toss out the, “Sperm Donor”, once they are done, sperming, or whatever it’s called.

So, this COMPLETELY explains why it’s now so easy for the gal’s to toss the guys into the rubbish heap, rape them for child support and alimony and whatever else they can get. HOWEVER, as seemingly advantageous as it has been for these gals, the children and the men tossed out have suffered IMMEASURABLY. The gals have NO IDEA (or care apparently) how much our contemporary culture has caused us guys to suffer…being separated from OUR (not just YOUR) children. We are NOT just the “Sperm Donor’s”!!! WE are the FATHERS. And tragically, our contemporary culture is still making it difficult for us to reclaim that role, as the Fathers of our children. Many men have killed themselves because of this, of their inability to be the Father to their children, and that is a cultural tragedy and travesty.

My children were 11 and 4 (now 38 and 30) when their Mother and I split up. I wasn’t able to spend one Christmas, or birthday, with my children until they grew up and moved out of their mother’s house! Their Mother refused to share those times with me and here in Canada during that time I was unable to change that. I suffered deeply. More than deeply, I lived a life of desolation and desperation for so many years….

My point being…sometimes in life things just can’t go the way that we wish. We accept it as it is, or not. Most of time I have chosen NOT, but have had to grab a beer, or two, or three to help me along that path. Thank God for that, at least.

May YOUR fate go better than mine!

This I see…

Today I saw into my past. Today I saw that it doesn’t last. Well, we do, but the memory doesn’t. It’s up to us to make it present. It is our choice you see, it really is up to you and me, to make of it what we will or won’t.

Today I saw into that past. I’m glad that it didn’t last. Well, I know that our memories wax and wane and can follow us willy-nilly upon the plane. But it is our choice you will see, it really is up to you and me, to make it what we will or what we don’t, and most won’t.

Today I saw into today. I’m glad for it, it’s here to stay. Well, I know it’s short and about to end, but that won’t stop me from hitting send, on that text to my closest friend, my love and dearest confidant, the one no one will know until the end. I’m good with that and so are they, and that’s all I have to say about stuff that’s personal, that tucks down deep into this arsenal, that lives this life that’s separate as the flowers be, that shows and gives us all their goodness and beauty.

This I see. Amen, this I see.

The end…

This space…life, as it grows dim, do I dare to let him in?

He has haunted me from my youth, since I awakened.

I was 8, a day which gives me fright. But I then saw there that life was IT.

This IT I’ve called it ever since. A blessing, one would or should suppose, but not for me all these years as I’ve posed.

Posed for what? To reach an age that today is defined from yesterday. I’m old.

We will, I hope, live much longer, but that doesn’t mean I’ll grow any stronger.

Rather, the clock defines us still. Will not, will wither, will it be it as it may.

Not to dismay, it is our plunder, our way upon this earth asunder.

As for me, I will stand up tall and take my fate, as much we all.

Slay me now or slay me yet, I take my odds on life’s sure bet, that we will know when to end the show and be as yet, another remembered.