Sunday, June 19, 2011

Buffalo Gal


I suppose it's natural on this day to think about the Wild Woman of Borneo. Think about how I parented this child who has grown up to be such an unholy terror. Near as bad as anyone I've come across, and that is saying something. Given my line of work.

She's certainly blown the doors off of anything resembling a normal life. For herself, for all of us who love her.

Maybe there is a lesson in there. I don't know. I'm inclined to think that any lesson I try to derive from the whole experience is probably something that I impose on my own rather than something organic to the dynamic.

I love her, though.

Though she kill me.

And her mother.

And all who look her in the eye.


My wife just told me that although she wouldn't speak to me directly, the kid wished me a happy father's day from her jail cell, said she loved me and all.


Life goes on.





Blogger Elizabeth said...

Wow. It seems ridiculous to say happy father's day but I salute you as father. Double salute you --

4:37 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

i came by here earlier, thinking how i wanted to wish you a happy father's day, but i left without a word (like i usually do) because i didn't want to hurt you. but reading what you've written, i feel like i can say what i wanted to say.

you and your wife and the love between you are a lifeline and a beacon. if you were not the way you are, she would never have a light to find her way back, should she ever choose to try.

it's not an easy job and it's not fair and i know it's taken huge chunks out of your heart and soul. lesser folks couldn't do it and she's one of the luckiest girls on earth. you have my unending respect. i'm so very glad i know you guys.

i hope you can forgive me for speaking my mind on such a personal thing. it comes from the heart.

4:51 PM  
Blogger Ms. Moon said...

Oh hell. Biological creatures just have too many things going on to be able to take credit or blame, either one. That's what I think.
But I know this day must be hard for you.
So listen, I wish I'd had you for a dad.
Whatever that means.
I do.

6:41 PM  
Blogger michelle said...

and namaste to you

8:07 PM  
Blogger ButtonHole said...

What Kay said, totally.

1:06 PM  
Blogger T. said...

I have a sister in law who's been one hell-of-a-mess for many years. She's 52 now and struggles with the health effects of her drug and alcohol addiction, but has been mostly sober and drug-free for the past two years. The past three months, as she's been nursing her dying mother, she has suddenly turned into the caregiver instead of only being the taker of care. It's astonishing, nothing short of a miracle.

There is always the possibility of love/redemption/life, even when it all seems beyond hope.


6:27 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


Thanks. I know we all experience the burdens of parenthood, no matter what the particular burden is, and it's often enough to swamp you completely.

Somehow you keep going.

Anyway, thanks for the kind thoughts.



3:43 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Dottie bones-

Thank you. Sincerely.

I hope you know that you can't overstep here. You are family, far as i'm concerned.

Anyway, your words brought a measure of comfort in a hard time. Thank you.

I'm glad we're friends.



3:45 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Ms. Moon-

I wouldn't have made a very impressive father during your formative years, but thanks for the vote!



3:46 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


good to see you here, thanks for saying hi.

3:46 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Button hole-


3:47 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

T. Clear-

It seems impossible, what life throws at us, what is done to us and what we do to others. Impossible to endure, impossible to escape.

In the end compassion seems the greatest gift, one we often find easier to give to others than to ourselves, but we're all deserving of it, even the most damaged.

I'm glad for your company and I'm sending good thoughts your way.



3:49 PM  

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