Sunday, July 22, 2012

knowing he cares

I found an old notebook journal as I was cleaning my room yesterday. It bears out some of the angst and hope expressed in my recent video. Here’s an entry from Sunday, June 16, 1991:

I’m sitting on the front porch now and there is a hauntingly beautiful sunset that has made the sky a kind of crimson/violet that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before and may never see again. This is how the days of a child’s life are. They are so beautiful. They are one moment in time never to be seen again. And yet they are also as numerous as sunsets and sunrises -- but are we watching ready to savor how unique these gifts of moments are?  Or are we too busy?

Yes, tonight I am supposed to be writing sales letters. Well they will have to wait until tomorrow. The wind is blowing. They other night it stormed. I thought of what Gibran said about storms and how you can feel the power of God in them.

Now neighbors are beginning to turn lights on and the intensity of that purple is slowly fading. I must have shivered a couple of dozen times today. It happened when the priests covered the sacrament table and just now when I thought of  Don. 

My feelings for Don are changing. They’re still very much in the forefront of my mind, and yet there’s a greater easiness there. There’s an intensity that’s brought on through depth and solidly knowing he cares, not so much by my admiring him--although I still do very much--it is now as if I can see him for the man he is, with many good traits, but not perfect. I’d like to talk with him tonight, but not enough to call after I know he’s had a long drive home from St. George.

I’m still trying to deal honestly with my wife. I’m trying to level with her about my frustration and confusion about her feelings for me. I can’t put aside my faith that things will work out. But I do long for a resumption of relations, and when I dwell on that loss it really leaves me feeling down and feeling pretty sorry for myself. But I must have faith. It is so much of what life is about. I can’t let all of the efforts so far just give way to defeat and cynicism.

The sky is still light but now that light is fading. Most of the light I’m writing by is from porch bulb. The kids are with their mom and grandparents. I am alone except for the dear cat. It has been a good weekend. Sure it was tough emotionally yesterday afternoon but it wasn’t a wasted day. I enjoyed mowing the lawn in beautiful weather. I have much to be grateful for.


  1. Your writing from 1991 is very subdued and sad. I hope things got better for you?

    I always look forward to your postings. I am glad you are writing.

    Love and respect, always. Duck

  2. Ah, perspective. You found it subdued and sad. I acknowledge that, but as far as journal entries from that time in my life, it was actually rather balanced and hopeful. I wasn't entirely focused on myself, which was often a problem then and one I still wrestle with. Common human condition, eh?

    I was at least somewhat aware of my surroundings. But you're right. The overall tone is not happy. Thanks for commenting, Duck, and helping me see more clearly things that I sometimes close my eyes to. I appreciate your love and respect and feel and send you double the same.