Terra Incognita


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Disclosure: My dad was not in any way involved in my abuse. However, after tackling the csa, I see how my childhood perhaps set me up for what happened at summer camp. My dad traveled a lot for business. Consequently, he was a great provider of material things, but fell short in emotional availability. What I jotted down here on New Year's Eve was a stream of conscious thought about my life.


What is the measure of a man? You are loving though you are hard to love. Our relationship as father and son is one of criticism and compassion. Are my efforts good enough? Are you disappointed? Did I make the grade?

You overcame.
You mined the ore and found the gold.
Will I find it before I grow old?

Are my feet too leaden to move with haste?
Are the ghosts I run from quicker than the ones you chase?

Who will cross the finish line first?
Who will die of thirst?

As you are to the father before you, I am your immortality.
What is done is done.
What Will be Will be.

Alea iacta est



That was beautiful Will.
My father was similar to yours ... gave me everything I needed ... but not what I wanted.
In the years since he died I have struggled to make my way and along the rocky path I have found him everywhere ...
in me.
Now I understand.