What’s the point of all this?
I was starting to wonder myself so after giving it some thought here’s what I’ve come up with.
To clear a guilty conscience? Could be!
In a few short months I shall have completed 80 years on this planet and how much more time for me is left is in the lap of the Gods, Zeus the Thunderer and Pallas Athene are keeping an eye on me hopefully, I haven’t got much faith in that bloke from Jerusalem and his dear ol’ dad, so I’ll stick to the other two; they’ve been around a lot longer!
For many, many, too many years I have been estranged from a daughter and a son, and sadly it doesn’t seem likely to ever change.
A little over a year ago my daughter Sarah told me that she had heard from her half sister Claire (half sister not step) and that Claire had told her that her mother had died some time earlier.
After Sarah told me this I decided to try and heal the breach, and cleanse the wounds, caused by the total neglect of both Claire and her brother David by both their parents. In the case of David it will probably be an impossible task, I last heard from him some 15 or more years ago when he was in London, England. Since then nothing; and nobody knows where he is. If his mother knew then she took it to the grave with her.
For a while Claire and I communicated by text and email, she lives almost as far away from Sydney as possible in the town of Albany in Western Australia more than 4200 kilometres away. She has three grown children which she raised by herself. Her husband (that I had the dubious pleasure of meeting just once) who seemed to be an avid ‘holy roller’ , having left her with three young children when the eldest was around 5 or 6 and the yougest barely one I believe.
Seems Claire copped a double whammy; an errant father and husband. Is it any wonder she is bitter when to top it off she had a mother who she came to I think it fair to say, despise.
Our contact ceased due to the one constant in our relationship, her mother; Joan.
Apparently for somewhere in the region of the last 30 years of her life Joan made Claires life hell and with that time line and the wisdom garnered over a period of 50 years of thinking why, I believe I know and can understand why, and in truth the fault actually was and is mine. Claire was not interested in anything I had or wanted to say on the matter, all mention of her mother was an anathema to her and all correspondence ended!
When will it end?
Sometime in the not to distant future I shall die, could be next week, next month, next year or ten years, I have no idea but one thing’s for sure it’s getting closer by the day so I better hurry along a bit.
When I’m dead, everything I’m writing about will die with me, it will never have happened because I will be dead, all memories gone, forever lost; and that is why I feel I must record the events on the off chance that somebody, perhaps one of my children or grandchildren will one day want to know why.
So why the title for these posts, they all play a part, there hasn’t been much yet about religion or my mother mostly me which inclines towards conceit however this is not so, I shall keep plodding along, there is much to relate which is all trying to come out. Everything will be factual, there will be no lies, sometimes I may be unsure of dates but the facts will be irrevocable and indeed at times irreverent.