Tag Archives: memoir
The Coat Sez
It is a small label inside a second-hand London fog. Sez “waterproof” in a way that means tell the dam story. Which I tell in my head in one way or another
Protagonists too vivid to fictionalize and actual jackass antagonists who are surprisingly two dimensional for real people in a small
Awful story I don’t want to tell, but my lovely black raincoat says I must.
Just: a book review
No one in their right mind writes a book review of their own book so people don’t have to read it.
So here goes:
I wrote Just because books had helped me through some tough times.
It is not a work of literature. It is a cry for help. I wanted to add to the voices of men and women who had helped me–mostly celebrity survivors who had been courageous and told their stories. Oprah, and Ellen, Sugar Ray, Ashley Judd, and Todd Bridges…
What would have I done without them?
So this the story: we fostered and adopted children damaged by neglect and abuse.
Life with them was so hard. It became even harder when we found out my adopted son had molested some of my children and others.
We pushed for legal consequences.
We dealt with the damage.
I was surprised by how little protection the justice system gave us. The book was a cry for help and a warning.
What I would add to that as an epilogue of sorts is that there is another book too painful and personal to write about what I call the shunning syndrome.
If you are brave or foolish enough to speak openly about being victimized by sexual abuse, you lose almost everyone you love.
Tough book to write. Even tougher to live. Par for the course for humans–we let our wolves drive our flocks.
But beyond the lonely places, we are fine (thank you).
A Parable of Faith
My kids are practicing French, handwriting, and shooting the breeze. They are quoting Patrick Warburton, who could read tax law and be funny. They remind me of my father, who was a military helicopter pilot.
He used to take the back roads. He would head down some narrow country road with a mysterious look on his face. Where are you going? We would ask.
I know a short cut. He would tell us.
He had marked the roads as he flew over the countryside.
I think of this when I ask God, why?
He sees beyond the horizon, the big picture, the answers to all my why?s