Category Archives: book

Love vs attachment

I have been doing a lot of thinking over the past month or so.  As any of you have read my other blog posts have noticed, I recently lost a great woman and a relationship with so much potential.  I am an introspective person, sometimes not in the moment, but I always perform a DEEP after action report when things blow up in my face.

In this delve internal I have been bouncing against a flexible wall.  It hasn’t been something I have really been able to grapple with.  The texture and give made analysis difficult, which made me work more diligently at figuring out what I was encountering.  My struggles just seemed to make this particular item even more nebulous.

I think I have figured out my perplexity.  In my mind, I was running into the dichotomy of LOVE vs attachment.  That little part of my brain that is crafty when my upper brain is trying to rationalize things was throwing out a caution flag.  That part of my brain isn’t rational, rather it is an emotional player.  Sometimes it is tragically wrong, but when I listen to it, a good internal conversation always evolves.  It helps me to get perspective.

What that part of my hind brain has been showing me is that I may be attached to my most recent girlfriend more than I was in love.  That came as a shock to me.  It struck me and derailed all my thought patterns for an entire day.  I had to sift through “attachment”.  I had to step back and investigate.

I should explain attachment.

Attachment differs from love in subtle but extremely important ways.  Attachment is a needful compulsion.  This is where you need the connection to the other person.  The connection is more important than the feelings or desires of the other party.  Jealousy and rage are often the by product of the slightest errors with an attached person.  Loss of the relationship is terrifying in this case as there is no independence or desire for such.

In contrast, love is a freely given association of two people who CHOOSE to share deeply.  They are happy and encourage the independent fulfillment of each other’s desires and dreams.  They absolve one another of the small errors in life and find them as opportunities for deeper communication.

Love tends to endure, as it is an open expression of willing sharing between equals.  Love is forgiving and reinforces the good, it acts to build and strengthen.

Attachment stems from a situation of lack.  It is guarded and jealous, perceives all others as potential threats and reinforces the negatives which continually degrades and weakens the relationship.  It begins and by its very nature must end in self reinforcing pain.

I have been in both situations.  I know that sometimes one party is attached and the other party loves.  This is probably the worst scenario as a cycle of vampirism runs its course with both lefts sucked dry.

One can never be certain of the situation on the other side, the motivations of the other party.  But, I have grappled with this notion from my hind brain and I know that I was working from a position of love and I think she was too, but several things including fear got in the way.  The great thing about love — it never dies.  Never.  With breath there is life.  With life there is hope.  With hope there is love.  When there is love, all things are possible.  ALL THINGS.




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Filed under awesome, book, personal

…why I get so furious when I allow my mind to wander through the door of malfeasance.

Two Doctors in Miami had the right approach.  Aizik Wolf and Beatriz Amendola.  Both of them saw our ability to fight cancer as being good but still pretty barbaric.  They both very actively spent money and time to stay on the forefront of their chosen areas as well as staying abreast on advances in other disciplines.  Their theory was, do whatever it takes to keep the patient alive and as healthy as possible SO THAT they can benefit from the new REVOLUTIONARY things that come every 5-8 years.

The above is a REVOLUTIONARY thing if it pans out.  Even if it only shows a third of its promise, that buys time for the next great unraveling.

Then their are self centered bastards who refuse to refer outside their own little petty fiefdom.  Those who hide behind “standard of care” so bringing a successful lawsuit is tough, even when you KNOW they did not act in the best interest of the patient.  When you KNOW they acted in the best interest of their AMG Mercedes payment.

Chemotherapy, one of the few drugs where the prescribing doctor profits on the drug prescribed, directly.  Something lie 40% of the cost of chemo is prescribing doctor profit.  HMMM.

I will stop here before my rant really gets going.  But know that I know.  Know that many other people are starting to know.  Know that God and Satan know.  One is shamed, the other is stoking coals for your soul.


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June 20, 2017 · 12:33


One definition or at least aspect-

Love:      a unilateral decision to put the welfare of someone else in front of / above your own

Best when served bilaterally, but each must make the unilateral decision.


I have another thought on love.

True, real love does not die.  In the aspect I am talking about today, I do not refer to the death of the partner, rather… I am referring to the “falling out out love” syndrome.

The only way love can “die” even in that scenario, is if both people give up their unilateral decision.  I know this to be true from experience.  Dawn married someone else.  She worked consciously to kill off her love for me.  Loving me while married to someone else is not proper (among other things).

I had no such desire and had no such reason to do so.  I did not give up my love of her.  When her life crumbled around her, she needed help.  My unilateral decision had wavered, but it still stood.  That was the bridge that allowed communication.

A few weeks after we began talking again, I was driving her to an appointment and we had the radio on as background noise.

This song came on.


She lost it.  So did I.  That was the true beginning or our walk back into the bright light of LOVE.

Don’t let your love get to this place.  But, if it does.  If there is breath, there is hope.  If there is hope, there is love.  If there is love, the entire world can be moved.  My world moved that day.  My hope is it will move again that way.

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Filed under book, Dawn, personal, Uncategorized

I will never love…


…again, like that.  I wrote a while back how the love Dawn and I shared was a perfect (for us) love.  It was and is.  There lies both the key and the problem.

Dawn and I bashed our heads against the lock of love.

At first we actively avoided any chance of love.  To that point, our lives had shown us, we were not those who found love.  So as semi-sensible adults we decided to enjoy our time together and not make it all complicated with such things.  We had fun.  We enjoyed each other’s company while we were together and when she disappeared, no great loss.  I had my other relationship and so did she.

We found a refuge from the crazy of our primary relationships, with each other.  When our partners didn’t want us, we found each other.  It was very strange, but we were two likeminded people who desperately needed shelter from the storms of our other situation.  Our relationship was fairly casual but also very close.  We became friends almost immediately.  That friendship would become the glue that bound us.  We did not know it at the time, but that friendship was the first step in building a key.

I am not ashamed to admit that after the third or fourth round of dating, I knew I was falling for Dawn in a way that was NOT casual at all.  By this time I knew I was in danger of telling her it was more than casual for me.  Then she surprised me with her younger daughter coming down visit.  Then she really surprised me when she said she wanted to introduce me as her boyfriend.  She told me that with a bit of fear written on her face.  I scooped her up in my arms and told her she was a genius.  She looked at me with a bewildered expression.  I let her go and said, you can tell her that all you want.  From my side it is true.  I have been trying to figure out how to tell you… I am falling for you… and you go and do this.  A look of uncertainty spread across her face, so I grabbed her hand and told her.  It won’t be any kind of lie.  I was trying to figure out how to ask you to be my girlfriend, but you beat me to it.  Kiss me and make it real.

She shook her head as that crooked smile graced her lips.  She kissed me then said, you are a very strange man.

I smiled back and told her she was a strange woman, but my kind of strange woman.  Then I pulled out a card from my back pocket.  It’s kind of anti-climactic now, but…

She read it and teared up.  I thought I had been to bold or something.  She saw the tinge of fear in my eyes and grabbed me in a big hug.  She whispered in my ear.  “I don’t deserve you.”

For once I kept my mouth shut, probably because I didn’t want her to hear my voice crack.  Then with the perfect timing of a teenager, Tucker knocked on the bedroom door.

Another piece of the key.

We had many other seminal events that we did not recognize in the moment.  Each was a piece of the key being built.

As odd as this will sound, by February of 2009 we had all the pieces of the key.  We both knew we loved each other.  We both knew that Tucker was very happy to have me in their lives.  All three of us knew we were a family in all but name.  There was one very large problem.

That problem can be looked at from many different angles.  We had built all the pieces of the key, but neither of us really knew how to put the key together.  She knew she wanted to keep me in her life.  She had taken me to visit her family.   I knew she was the most awesome person I had ever met and I wanted her to be a part of my life.  We were just too broken to know how to do it.  So it slipped from our hands.

Shithead stepped in and charmed her into marrying him.  That was the absolute worst 8-9 months of my life.  The ironic thing, it was also a very bad time for Dawn as well.  She knew she was making a mistake when she agreed to marry him.  She had a little voice screaming RUN during the ceremony.  Then the firestorm came.  Cancer.  In the moment, that was the worst 6 weeks of her life.  She endured two breast surgeries, a husband going from actively ignoring her to demonstrating his desire to kill her by putting her head through an interior wall, being driven from her home penniless with Tucker as a witness to all but the physical attack.

Looking back on that time, she needed the fire to burn her down to the core.  With everything else burned away she saw a freshly forged key in the ashes.  She did not recognize the significance of the key, but she did see an opportunity where she thought she had none.

She tentatively pushed the key towards the lock.  She was too scared to push it in, so she tapped on the lock.  To my surprise, I found out I was holding the lock.  I was just as shocked to find the lock as she had been to find the key.  I tentatively gripped the lock and steadied it for her.  She couldn’t get her hand steady enough to line up the key.  She tried again.  This time the key went in, but she couldn’t muster the strength to turn the key.  I turned the lock instead.

The key was roughly forged and the lock was dirty and neglected, but the key fit and it worked.  The latch sprang open and wonders poured out.  Things we had never imagined sparkled all around us.  Before we knew it, the lock was clasped together but it no longer kept us from the garden of love.  Now it linked the chain between our two hearts and we both knew how fragile and neglected both the lock and the key had been.  We both knew how lucky we were that they worked.  Without a word, we both set about correcting the deferred maintenance.  As we worked, the lock grew stouter, the key  grew stronger and so did the links of the chain.

Before we knew it the chains were gone and so was the lock.  But, that was a good thing.  They had been transformed into a pair of rings binding two hearts for eternity.

That is why I say it is both the key and the problem.  The lock and the key have disappeared.  There is no longer a key to unbind me.  Even if there was, I would not use it.  My heart and my soul are bound to Dawn.  Dawn’s heart and soul are bound to me.

She is such a giving soul.  In the last week we shared.  She pulled me aside and demanded that I do something for her.  She demanded that I wait an appropriate time before starting to date.  She told me, “no dating for at least two weeks…and no bringing some bitch to live in our house for at least two months”.  Looking at my blank stare, she smiled and kissed me, “You are too awesome of a man to not share love again after I am gone.  Go and make some woman ALMOST as happy as you’ve made me.”

I may yet do that, but I can tell you at this point.  I am done.  I have made an effort.  I have “dated”.  But my head isn’t in the game.  My soul and my heart protest.  Even my brain asks why.  Maybe someday, I will trip into something casual that turns into something awesome.  Maybe lightning will strike twice.  I won’t be holding my breath or searching anymore.

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Filed under book, Cancer, Dawn, personal, Uncategorized

Not a hero

In the past, I have had people call me “hero” regarding my actions with Dawn.  They claim the things I did are mythical, unimaginable, breath taking…

I want to officially throw the bullshit flag.

I am not saying I do not appreciate praise.  I am simply stating it is undeserved.

Courage is not doing something without fear.  It is doing something despite fear.

Heroism is a similar thing.  I did not do what I did despite my fear.  I did what I did for a number of reasons, some of which I still don’t understand.  The only fear in that moment was somehow Dawn would slip away.

In order for you to understand, I need to give you some history of our relationship.  We met in April / May of 2007.  We hit it off immediately, but we were both in other fragmented relationships.  Those other relationships were the primaries and our relationship with each other was secondary.  Over time, my primary relationship ended.  The relationship between Dawn and I became increasingly close with each cycle, but she invariably broke up with me when the other guy wanted her back.  For the record we never dated when either of us was involved with our “other” relationship.

In December of 2008 thru early February of 2009, we made huge strides in our closeness.  The word love was often spoken between us.  Probably most importantly, she invited me to meet her family in Maryland.  Many of you know that my agreeing to enter Maryland is a HUGE tell to the depth of my feelings.  She assured me it wasn’t a trip to introduce me to her family, just a trip and she would enjoy my company.  About midway through, even she realized the depth of her bullshit.  I was being introduced to the family as a prospective husband.  In retrospect that became obvious, but I jump ahead.

At the end of the trip, I stopped in Georgia to hunt and she and Tucker went straight home.  The trip was awesome, but as we headed home I saw storm clouds.  We drove two vehicles and I knew she had sent Tucker to ride with me so she could text, privately.  I knew what that meant.  Sure enough, the next day I got no replies from my texts.  She had “disappeared” again.

In the middle of the first week in February, she reappeared.  She was a little bashful but very excited to see me.  In my normal subtle manner, I called her on it.  She fessed up and told me directly, he had finally snapped the last straw.  We talked about it and I took her at her word.  We spent three days together, 24/7.  That included a trip to visit her mother; which went swimmingly, much to Dawn’s surprise.  When we got back to my house, she asked me about marriage.  I have chronicled that elsewhere, so I won’t repeat the details here.  She left in the morning for work and I heard nothing.  It was like a black hole swallowed her up, again.

I thought I knew what that meant.  I did, sort of.  It meant she had somehow agreed to go back with the abuser.  What I didn’t know until mid-April was she had also agreed to MARRY HIM and had on Valentine’s Day.

Until that was confirmed, I was moderately hopeful she would come to her senses or he would throw her out again.  But marriage, that is another thing entirely.

The boy who was my son was removed from my life with an email that contained only two words “NO CONTACT”.   The woman that so recently asked me if I would consider her for marriage had married someone else 8 days later.  I was not a virgin to heart break.  My previous on and off relationship had been a drag through hot coals, but this.  I had no comparison.  I didn’t even have pain at first, just complete and utter shock.  I felt a little like Adam must have, when he awoke missing half his ribs.

Once the marriage was confirmed, the floor fell out of my life.  I kept up appearances as best I could.  I didn’t tell my family.  Most of my friends didn’t know.  They mostly just assumed Dawn and I were off again.  I just couldn’t bring myself to speak of it.  It was better to deny it to myself rather than face it and make it real.

Slowly, I got a slight handle on things and began to filter through our interactions.  Everything was examined; every disagreement, every missed opportunity.  I beat myself up pretty well.  Through it all I talked to God and I mourned.  Those talks were not overly friendly.  I mourned the death of our potential.  I mourned the abortion of our love.  I mourned the Death of Dawn as I knew he would either kill her outright or slowly drain her until she was an empty husk.  The steering wheel in my poor truck got pummeled frequently when a song came on that reminded me of her, us, our dreams…  The pain in my right hand helped dull the glass shards savaging my heart.

In my stronger moments I begged God for help.  I prayed he save her from the mistake and the monster she married.  I prayed that she might wake up and run.  No need for her to run to me, just that she be safe.  I begged God to protect her in my stead.  On really dark days, the prayer was that Tucker would not find his mother dead at the monster’s hand.  On weaker days, the prayer was that I be granted the opportunity and excuse to end the monster’s life even if that would insure Dawn’s enmity.  More than once I realized I was driving toward his house with ill intent.

Eventually, I met someone else.  We dated.  She was a wonderful woman, but she wasn’t Dawn.  She knew about Dawn and my issues.  She had her own issues with an ex-husband and we were good for each other.  We lived an hour apart and had our own lives, but we enjoyed each other’s company and both knew it wasn’t a forever thing.  Despite that, over the course of months we got close.  She helped me move away from the pit.  Spending time together gave us both some happiness and at least for me (in the moment) I didn’t miss my ribs, so acutely.

In retrospect, I hurt her.  When Dawn contacted me, I told her.  I saw the look on her face.  She knew before I did.  It took me the full week until Dawn and I actually talked on the phone to come to any kind of terms with it.  It took another two weeks for me to tell that her that our time was over.  She was rightly upset, but to her credit she told me she knew.  It was written all over my face.  She said, “I hope Dawn is as amazing as the look on your face tells me she is.  I hope she is worthy of that kind of love.”

She stunned me with that.  It was a good smack across the face.  It opened my eyes, but I knew the path I had to travel.  I spent MONTHS begging God for another chance.  I spent months inspecting every part of what “went wrong”.  Every single night I slept alone, Dawn was missing from my bed.  My failures haunted my days and nights.  I spent months chasing crazy ideas from my head and no matter what I did, it always came back to Dawn.  Not just that, but how could I be the man I claim to be if I didn’t honor the answering of my prayers?  What kind of man would I be; if when given a second chance, I turned away?  How could I even think about turning away the woman I love; especially considering the abuse, the cancer diagnosis, the theft of all her money and our son.

The simple fact, I was a shattered man.  I knew Dawn was the key.  Dawn was more shattered than I and she needed help, specifically my help.  My honor would not allow me to turn her away.   I had prayed, begged, bargained for this very thing.  God did not choose to do it in a way that I envisioned, but he brought her back.  I needed her as much as she needed me.  Sure she was still married to the abuser.  Certainly, things were going to be very tough.  She had cancer with no insurance, no job and no money.  She had our son in tow and he was having huge issues, but weren’t we all.  God brought us BOTH low.  He did that so we could rebuild together.  I did not see that, but somehow I knew it fit.

People bring up how she married someone else and I put that aside.  They mention how I stepped to the plate, despite her betrayal.  Betrayal, Dawn did not betray me.  She made a poor choice and she paid for it with brutal interest.  Why would I spite myself and cause myself pain by turning her away?  They cast me in the role of hero for that?

Other people imagine what they would have done in my place.  They imagine themselves (or their spouse) turning them away and call me a hero for not doing so.

Heroic: doing something despite fear.

I did no such thing.  In an earlier era, men protected women.  They protected women, family and strangers alike.  A woman in need, I think there are several mentions of that in the Chivalric code.  It doesn’t qualify as member of your family or a favored aunt or a friend’s sister – a woman in need.  Dawn was a woman in need.  I did what my honor code demanded.

Or put another way.  I did what we should all do for those who are important to us.  I did nothing more than what was right.  My actions were the actions that all men should do for those they love.  The things I did were nothing special.  I saw a need; one that I had the ability to fix and I acted.  The fact that many facing a similar situation chose another lesser path does not make me a hero.  I know what it makes them, but it does not make me a hero.

In doing what I did, it initiated forgiveness.  We were able to forgive each other and perhaps more importantly forgive ourselves.   As much as I helped her, she helped me more.  That pivotal moment at the bottom is what allowed us to build a relationship on the bedrock of an equally shared and equally treasured love.

If you want to see heroes, I can point you to heroes.  Many of them wear a blue ribbon with stars in the front.  The ribbon often holds a small gold plaque inscribed with “Valor”.  That plaque has a five pointed star hanging from it.  Here is a list of some actual heroes.

You will notice my absence from that list.


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Kith and Kin

The second word people will recognize, the first one not so common.

Kin: relatives

Kith: friends and acquaintances

These are the abbreviated definitions from Webster and the like.  In most of modern society, these terms will fit well enough.  I happen to disagree with – have a much more expressive definition for the second one.  My definition is more in line with historical means for the word and for the meaning of the word in cognizant members of my modern community.

Let’s start with kin.  I have a mother and a father.  I have 11 (I think) living aunts and uncles and both sides of the family being Catholic, I have a metric shit ton (45 or so) of first cousins.  I think without going any further, I have you convinced that I have a HUGE swath of available kin.  People I am related to by blood.  These are people who I nominally know and for the most part get along with at family reunions, weddings and the like.  Mostly decent people, all families have that uncle, that cousin… but we do ok in that regard.

Kith, I stated I have a more archaic definition.  This definition is people who have no blood loyalty to you or you to them; but that you claim as kin.  In the days of yore, a knight would swear such allegiance to his lord, although often it was not reciprocal.  A family might swear such an allegiance to a child of friends who were killed.  Two warriors might become blood brothers as testament to their loyalty to one another.  If you look back at history, you can find innumerable examples of this type of thing.  If this is an honest commitment, this is often a much stronger bond.

Think about it.  A bond of blood takes no energy.  You have this bond DESPITE what you may desire.  An oath taken is a sacred bond, it is a bond that must be maintained and worked.  It is also a bond that you have personally committed to and the resulting loss of honor is much larger if you break it.  As I mentioned, those in my modern preparedness / conservative community should get this.  We are people who often are derided by kin for our unwillingness to play the party line of mediocrity and bending to the easy path.  We often are forced to band together with people who become our kith, just to have the opportunity to protect our kin.

I know many of you are asking, where is he going with this?  I can tell you, Dawn had a grasp of kith simply from her life and experiences growing up in several mixed households.  She has a true blood sister, a technical half-brother, a no blood relation brother and for a few year had a sister the same way.  They were all her siblings.  No half, no step, just siblings.  In her adult life, she had a child of no blood relation.  This little girl was her child in every way except genetics.

I did not have this exposure and I questioned Dawn on the dynamics.  She showed me by example more than she explained it to me.  I am fairly dense at times, but I learned this lesson and I learned it well.  Dawn was the first person who I recognized as kith.  She was my awakening moment.  Before that, I was not worthy of being anyone’s kith or they mine.  Now, I can tell you, I have 4 kids who are in no way at all related to me, who are my kith.  I also have 4 kids that are related to me by marriage, that are my kith.  These are my children whether they like it or not.  Most of them know and happily accept.

Outside of that, there are people in my life who are equally my kith.  My best friend of over 35 years, he is my brother.  He knows the code we live by.  I have some other friends, local to me now.  They also know the code.  They are my kith and I am theirs.

Without being overly dramatic, people YOU and only YOU are in charge of who enters your life.  You are in charge of who stays in your life.  You are in charge of what type of friend you are to those who would have you as kith.  You choose your kith and they choose you.

I will ask a few questions here.  Do you know the original meaning of a voluntary blood bonding?  Do you know the reason one NEVER broke a blood oath?

Becoming a blood brother was the symbolic statement of sharing the same blood.  He who strikes you, now causes me to bleed as well.  He who is your enemy is now my enemy.  We may not prevail, but we will fight and if need be, we will die together.  If I am somehow spared death and you are not, I will not stop until you are avenged.

Perhaps this helps you to know why the word kith has been adjusted and has dropped out of common parlance.  Perhaps this helps you to understand why in antiquity, anyone who broke a blood oath was killed by the witnesses to the oath.  The forsaken were avenged by society.  They had to be or society crumbled.  Perhaps you will now also understand why I do not accept accolades for my actions with Dawn. It was not just the right thing to do.  It was the ONLY thing to do.

She was, is and always will be Kith.

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That knight in shining armor.

armorAfter Dawn and I got back together and she started to believe that I wasn’t going to run away.  Run away, like so many others throughout her life; she started calling me her “Knight in shining armor”.  I would always tell her; no, I am your knight in tattered armor.

She would always insist that to her, my armor SHINED with the glory of the morning sun.

One day when we had that little verbal joust, I told her the armor is truly tattered.  But, it does glow with the glory of a blazing red Dawn.  She looked at me, under standing that I had emphasized the double entendre with her name, the morning and her red hair.  She did not catch the deeper meaning.

I smiled and told her, it is your scrupulous maintenance of my tattered armor each night, that allows me to protect again, when that gorgeous ball of red rises each morning.

She looked at me again with a slow realization on her face.

Her eyes welled up.  She dashed into my arms and cried.  She finally, truly understood we were a team.  We each had a role.  My role was to beat back dragons.  My role was to keep her safe and protected; give her the room she needed to heal and grow.  Her role was to be the diplomat / scholar and to mend my armor; physical, mental and spiritual.  She knew in that moment, we were one.  She knew in that moment, that I might not be able to save her, but I would fight until her last breath or mine.

She cried and so did I.  My armor never shined as much as it did that day and every day after.

It turned out to be until her last breath.  But I still fight.  So perhaps, it will be to my last breath too.

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March 11, 2017 · 18:51