What we thought was normal was what we were taught

I am re-reading the above phrase, ” What we thought was normal” and maybe when my brother was younger he did but I think there were times when he knew it wasn’t and then simply didn’t know what to do or stop himself or my father or the  drinking and drugs and I believe that was the same for me.  In the 1960’s there were next to no options.

My earliest Memories.

Dancing the ” Twist” for party friends my parents had in England

The Swing.

Walking around the Garden with an umbrella.

a swinging light from above

and my father , brother and myself down stairs

in a basement.

my brother touching me  while my father shows him and talks to him.

stubbing my toe on my toy.

my brother putting me in a closet

while I cry and bang on the inside of the closet door.

giving  sugar cubes to horses.

sucking on a  sweet  orange with a sugar cube  stuffed in the middle.

sitting on my grandfathers knee

” jiggedy jigg”

Children of the Light.

 

 

 

Children of the Night

The Magic Word

   Closure

       Just some fleeting thoughts.

             1. I don’t see Closure as a Goal, as in to ” attain Closure”.  For, me it is a word that doesn’t fit into my vocabulary.

             2.  The Phrase that began to work for  me has been about learning to live  with  ones’ s Truth.  That , I believe, has been my invitation to  transformation.

Is Closure A Box ?

Jaycee Lee Dugard

    Hope is te things with feathers that perchese in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.” – Emily Dickinson … 

 

Many Thank yous to Ms. Jaycee Lee Dugard for her courage and fortitude in speaking in an interview with Diane Sawyer.  I watched some of her interview and  held her words in my heart.

I noticed that she used  the term ” Mind Manipulation”  in place of of the term ” Mind Control”  and how well  she described the physical and psycological grooming that takes  place .

I was placed downstairs in the basement with the door locked and left with newspaper placed on the cement floor  for the Bathroom.  I was forced to consume dog feces,  and at other points  not allowed  to use the bathroom with the door closed etc.

More than anything is how she held on to hope and held on to her coping mechanisms.  I would look for daylight coming from the window. Small things took on a life of their own as   Hope is truly a  thing with feathers.

Jaycee Lee Dugard’s   Just Ask  Yourself  To Care  Website

Pimps.

  New York City , Mid 1960’s ..Imagine this scenario..

A black boy  wearing  Purple  and big fancy fluffed coat

drives a  large  shiny Cadillac  while a white teenage

boy ( my brother)   sits in  the passenger seat . Together they

talk happily while passing the High rise

tenement  projects.  garbage and Dirt  litter the cold

street,  While I sit  in  Back seat , watching everything

like I am at the movies.

Patrick

   Looking back as an Adult I can see  many gray areas.  Offenders and

 Victims . War and Teenagers. The Vietnam War. As my Brothers need for  Drugs ran rabid.  He began looking for ways to make money for his habit.

He began by creating ” Dates” with me and his best Friends ,” Roger and Chris” and also Patrick.

Patrick arrived back from Vietnam with a Limp.

I don’t think that he  was any older than 18 or 19 at the time and my brother had promised that he could spend some ” time with me” for a fee.  I remember it as a world where : what was down was up and what was up was down.  Regular rules just didn’t apply. Maybe it was the same for Patrick in Vietnam.

My brother told me it would be a grown up date.  ” You wanna be like the older girls don’t you ? “

My Memory is of Patrick arriving to come and get me.  The image that lingers are the oversized Dice hanging from the drivers mirror and that his T-shirt was the purest , cleanest white I’d ever seen. . Looking into the car , thinking how tidy  it looked. He looked up and smiled at me , while I noticed the map on the other seat. I got into the car.

My next memory is Patrick laying beside me  and I had started to cry. He stroked my hair and called me ”  Mouse” . He suddenly stopped and gave me a robe to wear.  As i walked thru the beaded curtain wearing it Patrick was experienced a Flash back.  He started yelling about ” Gooks”, frightened and scared. Did he try to shoot them?   I don’t remember

Vietnam

any more .  That time; That Place where  we were all grown ups.

Where ever you Are .

Underneath the Wreakage, I found Pearls

 

One of my last Paintings: Titled” Underneath the Wreakage I found Pearls

Fathers Day 2011

 

                Daddy –

                              I remember spending time with you before you died, an old man with dementia. For a  person who hurt me so much you would have thought that I simply would not have showed up. But I did . It was not forgiveness but my way of acting on behalf of a core value of mine,  That I simply didn’t have it in me  to hurt you back or waste my  valuable time and life on revengeful things, that I was bigger than you .   I understand how precious  life is . So, with my Time  :   I felt it  were best placed into pursuing the  positive elements of  my life .

               Freedom is an inward journey.

              You were  truly a mystery man. A troubled Man.  A sick man .   A man with secrets that I will  remember for my own life time.

              This note is not to wish you a happy fathers day. Perhaps in the place where you are , you have been able to find some kind of peace.   I am still seeking mine.

                your daughter,

                 D.

 

 

 

A little Pink

-You’re so mean, when you talk, about yourself you were wrong.

Change the voices, in your head,  make them like you instead.-
 

                  Pink

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