I’m a tough taskmaster. Especially on myself. I recognize my foibles, and as soon as I do make a mistake I attempt to make amends to those whom I have wronged.
I’m certain not perfect at it.
Progress, not perfection, I’m told.
I just cannot wrap my head around those who not only would attempt to control us, but then take no responsibility for their actions. I don’t understand what must go through the heads of despots and dictators.
Imagine if Stalin or Pol Pot or Hitler (or Woodrow Wilson or FDR) had used their force for good instead of evil?!
Then I see THIS (from Brock Townsend):
Patricia Smith, whose son, Sean, was killed in the September 11, 2012 terrorist attacks in Benghazi, Libya said that Democratic presidential candidate former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton “ought to be wearing stripes” and “My son is dead because of her” on Monday’s “Varney & Co.” on the Fox Business Network.
Smith said, “My feeling is that she went on TV afterwards, telling everybody that I was the liar, that there’s someone here that is lying, and it wasn’t her, and that I was liar. I want her to apologize to me for calling me a liar on TV, because this is clearly not true. And I want to know why my son was left to die breathing in diesel smoke, which is the most horrible way to die, and she didn’t do anything to stop it. She could have.”
How much of a sociopath does one have to be to be responsible for the murder or incarceration of millions, to then go home, have a nice evening meal and retire for the evening?
And if they were responsible for the deaths of only four?
And then, to personally attack the veracity of a victim’s mother, instead of being contrite and apologizing.
What is WRONG with these people?
That bastard CANCER!
I’ve a number of friends on and off the Internet who have had it.
Some have survived; some not-so-much. 😦
I’ve had it twice.
Earlier this year, my dear friend Bob Hall was taken by it. Brigid’s brother by the same variety as Bob over a year ago.
We found out last week that Tom Lindsay of Fill Yer Hands is battling it.
My roomie’s ex (who remains a friend of hers and father to their daughter) has had a tumor in his sinuses removed, and a bladder tumor.
We found out yesterday another bladder tumor has appeared, and he is scheduled for yet another surgery!
In keeping with the bizarre tradition around here, many of my friends happen to be named Bob or Dave. His name is David.
Please keep a good thought for him, and pray, if that’s what you do.
He’s a good guy. and another gunnie.
Today is the 21st anniversary of the passing of our daughter Molly.
We had been in an automobile accident the previous day, and I spent weeks in intensive care, the hospital and rehabilitation.
Molly spent one day. She was twelve.
I’m doing pretty well, considering. On disability – due to lymphoma. I’ve a roof over my head and a beater car and a supportive family and friends, some of whom I’ve met through these pages in the last five years.
Which brings me to the point I often make.
GO AND HUG THOSE YOU LOVE AND TELL THEM SO! Because you may not get another chance!
She was a terrific kid, and was going to be a terrific adult. But never got the chance.
She was becoming a shooter (who knew? :-)) and was definitely a Daddy’s girl.
She will always be Daddy’s Girl.
I Love You and Miss You!
We lost MARK BELL.
My co-worker, shooting student, sounding board, reminder of things good, bon vivant, and loyal friend.
We had just attended Kevin Baker’s blogshoot the previous Sunday, and had spoken on the telephone, yesterday (four years ago – I cannot believe it’s been four years!).
Then his beloved wife Cathy called me tomorrow (four years ago) to tell me he had dropped dead from a heart attack suddenly yesterday.
Having almost lost Walter recently, this may be a little maudlin.
I don’t care.
PLEASE, tell the ones you love that you love them, and hug them, if at all possible.
Because you never know.
The passing recently of David Bowie definitely got my attention, even though I wasn’t a big fan – in any of his incarnations. (Sorry)
But yesterday, finding out that a founder of The Eagles had passed. Well, Universe, this is over-the-top!
As we age, we seem to see more of this – people who are part of our youth, our lives, passing into eternity.
Personal family and friends aside, these bookmarks in the story of our lives remind of us specifics in our past, and of the eventual future for all of us.
R.I.P. Good Sir!
I wasn’t born for another eleven years when this happened, but as a student of history and an American it gets to me. Much as the JFK assassination, The Marine Barracks, Khobar Towers, The U.S.S Cole and The Twin Towers attacks did during my life.
Meeting that Navy veteran who had served on the Arizona on Veteran’s Day this year did as well.
Please take a moment of silence today.
For those not paying attention to the calendar…
And prayers and good thoughts for the victims, first responders and survivors.
And woe be to those who committed and continue to commit such heinous acts!
Life doesn’t always go as we plan or desire. We certainly cannot control others in their personal plans or desires.
Especially, in matters of the heart.
Sometimes, we must let them go…
When love is good, it’s very, very good.
And when it goes away, it sucks.
Our daughter Molly, at her 12th Birthday Party
Twenty six days before the accident
I’m so much better a man for having known her.
I LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU!
(Truly, I cannot believe it’s been Twenty Years!)
There are things that are good to remember; things bad to remember; and things important to remember.
The crummy part of all this is sometimes my brain is not too good at discerning which is which, or what goes with what.
My character (being flawed and neurotic as it is) has a tendency to default to the bad.
A shrink, I’m certain, would say it’s all about low self esteem, negative messages from childhood, etc. The reasons don’t matter.
Twenty years ago, today was the accident in which our daughter Molly was killed.
I was driving – this makes me ultimately responsible, as I was The Dad. The Protector. The fact the other driver ran the red light while speeding is of no consequence.
I carry a sidearm. I’ve done so for 41 years. Long before I even met Molly’s mother, I chose to do whatever I could to protect myself and my family and friends. It’s a roll I haven’t taken lightly.
And I took my assignment as Protector even more seriously when I became a father. It’s what father’s are supposed to do!
We were making a left turn from 44th Street, East onto Thomas Road. A little after 1 PM. Going to Monkey Wards after an earlier visit to Famous Footwear @ 20th St. and Camelback. Saturday’s with 12 year old daughters meant shopping! The signal didn’t have a left turn arrow back then. It was just like in the movies – in the midst of completing the turn, I sensed something was wrong. Based on the estimated speed of the other car, we were pushed across the intersection in about one-tenth of a second.
And many lives changed forever.
I’ve no memory regarding what happened next. Nothing to recall on the witness stand months later. I was told I regained consciousness enough to give my estranged wife’s phone number to the ambulance guy, when I was asked if there was anyone he could call.
I had early drugged hospital memories of being on board a ship(!) Not enough consciousness to ask why I was on a ship. Turned out, with one (now re-inflated) collapsed lung and the other half filled with fluid, County Hospital had me on a pneumatic bed which kept hissing and rolling, to keep fluids from settling in my damaged lungs. Ribs pushed into a lung. Broken collar bone. Broken arm. Tube up the nose, and IV morphine/ativan drip.
My sister, wife and friends were there, being supportive and keeping loving watch as much as they could. Not wanting to answer the obvious question: Where was Molly?
In my few awake moments, I remember asking about the funeral, desperately wanting to be well enough to attend.
My wife was told Sunday morning there had not been any brain activity, and had the courage to disconnect life support. Had our roles been reversed, I don’t think I would have had the bravery. I am forever grateful to her for this. A number of folks benefited from her decision.
The funeral was that following Tuesday. I was largely unconscious in ICU at County for another two weeks.
Ultimately, after being moved to Good Sam, being given Tylenol in lieu of the morphine/ativan drip (!) and weeks in the regular hospital and rehab, I was able to walk and breathe again.
I was deeply depressed and pretty much just counting the days.
Until I could pay my respects.
That came weeks later.
I’ll say it again, as long as I take breath – Tell your family and friends you love them, right now!
Because you may never get another chance.
AND be an organ donor.
I try to remember the good times. The IMPORTANT ONES. It’s what has kept me alive for the past twenty years.
My thanks to all of you, family and friends, for holding me up, until I could stand on my own.
(Commentary has been turned off – I know how you all feel. Thanks, again.)