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Whatever 🙂
Look!!! I made Google pay good money to save some of itself.
“Something for <name>” doesn’t refer to looking for a gift. I refers to looking for an image to put here.
But any image could possibly have meaning.
That one did not.
Man, I really thought I had archived those images, safely, but they died. Going to need a key in the margin — #1 is Kristi Winett, the woman who birthed, mothered, protected, and brainwashed my babies into being just biological offspring. They're good lookin' but weenies.
They're good looking weenie dog types, but not quite as assertive.
I was kidding. Besides, I have no idea what types of grownup-ish people my babies have become. They also have no idea what type of grownup-ish near-senior citizen I have, either. I don't know what Kristi said, I can only imagine. My internal model of how things go around there is frozen — I can WOPR it all out, but those are just guesses. Similarly, I wish my babies (and Kristi) would consider that their image of is also frozen back then.
I spent enough time around #1's parents to be able to form a (possibly incorrect) notion of what goes on under your mother's hair. At one time she had resolved never to speak with her father again, not to answer the phone, no returned letters, cards, just nothing. That's the way it was, anyway.
How can anything change if there's no opportunity to interact at all? Nothing difficult needs to be discussed, no agenda need be drawn, I'd just like to ask you the weird things parents ask, like — what classes are taking this year? What's the food like in Belize? Got a boy and/or girlfriend? Had any close calls driving? What's your favorite color?
I can't imagine your feelings about any of this. Even though my parents divorced, I didn't witness much conflict at all. I sort of remember my dad or mom slamming the bedroom door one day after they got home from work. I remember when they told us they were splitting up. I remember hearing how it would be even better (it wasn't) and we'd like going to dad's every other weekend and seeing him during the week (it was difficult). But, my dad and mom never seemed to treat each other badly, in fact they seemed to still be friends and speak well of the other to us.
Your mother and I had really good reasons to be upset. Then when the court system was slammed down, the world froze for 3 years in my world — it was like I was in prison, except much more difficult. I survived, and was so naive that I thought once the period was over, that it would be like getting out of jail. Then another year in court went by before another 3 year whammy was set. After the 7 years of shutout was done, I tried to make contact through your mother, but still haven't heard anything. From time to time I send messages, nothing. It did let my feelings get hurt the last few rounds of gift giving. I didn't understand, and don't, why a gift would make someone feel uncomfortable except if you're receiving it from a gangster, or some weird return was expected. Seemed like accepting a gift and throwing it away would have been easier, but taking the moment to make a statement about comfort — it's thought provoking.
I can't imagine how you felt and feel, and I pray that you never feel the loss of your children like I do. It's my fault — for sure. No matter what anybody else perpetrated, I did enough to mess this all up. I (puke) own that, and I don't need anyone else to say a word or own anything or make nice.
I suspect when we do eventually talk, we're going to wish we'd started sooner.
Guess what? Chicken butt.
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