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We have gray skies and chilly temperatures, but it ain't nothing compared to what's going on north of here. I dread it for the people who are having to deal with one large snow storm after another. What a drag, man. How we missed the brunt of it this time. It is business as usual for this section of the country, and why I've never been attracted to living in the northern climes.
It may be possible that if I moved north I might get used to it by learning how to dress warm and realizing there is more to living up there than dealing with cold weather. I've watched the football games televised from Green Bay, Wisconsin and seen the crazy fans up there cheering on the game bare chested. Maybe there are secrets I don't understand about coping with the cold temperatures.
The most interesting thing that's happened to me over the last day or so is that I may qualify for a free cell phone with 250 minutes a month because I'm so poor. I had to jump through a few hoops to figure out how to get an application in. I just now mailed it, so maybe in a couple of weeks I'll hear back. I did telephone their free number and talked to some guy who told me that there shouldn't be any problem with me getting one.
The second package I mailed my ex-daughter was rather a trial. There was stuff that her mother left behind when she took our children and went to California with them. Photographs and pictures the kids drew when they were small children. Now both of them have their own small children. Since I've been left alone to die however I will, I didn't want anybody to have to guess what belonged to whom.
There was one calendar book in which my ex-wife kept a diary of her feelings when she was pregnant with our first child that I kept out of sheer nostalgia. Sending it away was emotionally raw for me.
At the same time I organized the stuff left over from my first marriage. I don't know where to mail those pictures. All of these things happened a long time ago, but they were my life and the only emotional ventures I have allowed. I was not a good husband or lover, and a lousy father. I put off looking at these mementoes for over thirty years. Now they're gone to live in Washington state where they rightfully belong.
My daughter seem to fear I was preparing to murder myself and that's why I sent her the first package. I don't know why, she reads too much I reckon. I married her mother to keep her own mother from forcing her to get an abortion like she did her first pregnancy, from a former boyfriend before my time. I didn't expect to fall in love with her nor stick around to raise the kid. I guess I should have known better.
For the most part my life is over now. Except for going to the VA Hospital and going out to eat occasionally and going for walks with my brother for exercise, and writing, of course, there is nothing left much to even call a life. I'm fine with that. I might as well be. I've always known I would die in and for poverty.
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I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
