Captain Pike's Ship Log II

I've been holding back posting about this... I hate to be negative. I have had one hell of a Christmas! We're into the new year now and things just seem to keep getting worse. I don't know how much more I can take! I feel like I need to be kind of vague here... I should probably be talking to somebody other than putting my words on a whirling disc somewhere, and then slinging them out willy-nilly, all across the planet.

My darling wife and I have been bickering a bit over the last few months, I think we're bound to disagree and usually it's meaningful to clear the air. I mean, everyone fights, don't they? So I brought it up. In my infinite wisdom, I'd try to do two things in my important relationships with others.
1) Ask for what I really need from my partner.
2) Honestly, state how I am feeling. Say what I mean; but, don't say it mean.

That's it, that's what I do. I try not to have secret hopes that if you're lucky you'll do automatically. But, if you don't...de dum -- hidden ambush.

My 15 year old son attends a private boarding school about an hour away. He's a great guy, we get along pretty good -- we have been together from the beginning of his life. His mom and I divorced about six years ago, I've had custody. His mom and I get along pretty good too. It seems like just the other day he was this little guy that I took everywhere with me -- sometimes people call him "Little Phil", but he's really not very much like me. He's got this, nice thick dark hair, he's really tall and handsome. His skin gets a nice deep tan in the summer, he hardly ever burns. He seems to be able to keep his cool around the ladies. One time some young girl called up asking for him. He wasn't there. When he got home I was there saying "so-and-so called up, you better call her right now". He goes, "what's good to eat? she'll call back later...". Wow. Where did he learn that? I remember, when I was his age, we had the old rotary dial phones. I would dial all the numbers of a girl I was sweet on, holding the last digit. Then I would let go, and when it rolled around, I would hang up at the last minute -- too afraid to talk.

My dad is 86 years old. His dementia is quite severe, his short-term memory is about one minute. He is a good guy and we get along well. He lives, by himself, in his house "across the corner" -- I can see him, see his living room window looking out my living room window. He has lived alone there ever since my mom died of cancer back in 2003. My wife and I moved up here (we moved up here girlfriend and boyfriend) when mom was dying so that Nikki, my wife, could take care of her, allowing her to die in her own home. It's quite a story. Nikki and I were visiting a lot the summer of 2003, when mom started to feel really bad. By the time she got the diagnosis, the treatment program didn't last long before the cancer spread throughout her body -- her condition was hopeless. She was basically living out her last days, in the hospital, on pain measures. Nikki pulled me aside and said "I could care for her at home -- in her own house". We offered that great gift to my mother and the next day she moved home and Nikki moved in with them. We had been living in southern Maine, about 300 miles away. I was working as a Saab mechanic and living with my son Paul in the house he grew up in. We didn't have much going on down there, so we moved north to a house nearby my parents. My mother died of cancer October 29, 2003. My dad was there, Nikki was there and I was able to be there too -- I held her hand right through the very end. It was very sad, and it was very beautiful, if that makes any sense. She was able to sleep in her own bed, next to her husband of 63 years. She was able to wear her own clothes. She entertained the guests she wanted to, according to the schedule she decided. She ate what she could, what she wanted and when. I wish she didn't have to die at 79, but I can't think of away now which would have been better. I'm grateful to have had the opportunity to be with my mother and father when she passed.

Since we lived here anyway, we were able to keep an eye on dad, who, needed more help than any of us realized until after my mother was gone. A couple of years later, Nikki and I were involved in a terrible car accident which rendered me a quadriplegic. This is tough but, just like the man who could see things more clearly after losing an eye, my lust for life and my gratitude for friends is greatly increased through my disability.

One fact I didn't mention is that Nikki left behind two beautiful young daughters after a bitter divorce with their father in order to move up and care for my mom. I don't think she ever intended to leave them for long. As it turns out, she had personal work to do in her own life in order to be the mother that they deserve and she wanted for herself. Now it comes to a time when her 12 and nine-year-old girls need a loving, sober, caring mother in their life, as never before. During her four year hiatus, this beautiful woman cared for my father, earned a four year degree in substance abuse counseling, became my wife, learned how to make life bearable for crotchety quadriplegic, began a wonderful career as a licensed is abuse counselor on a needy Native American reservation and achieved a mental-health fitness which is second to none.

Now we are at a crossroads. This can no longer be her home with news filtering in of possible abuse suffered by her dear young daughters -- they need her in their life. My dad needs me in his. My son has finally reconciled his only relocation and has met friends here and made a home. We had some awful stuff happen around Christmas involving the theft of prescription medication and presents being stolen from under the tree. We don't have any idea who took what, but damage has been done in the mere insinuation that any of us might have stolen from one another. I'm at my wits end.

Then my daughter calls up -- she and her grandmother want to get custody of my son! Just as soon as her boyfriend gets out of prison! My wife had to take a urine test. Her boss told her: "maybe you ought to go away this weekend -- something horribles going to happen!" Turns out, she has a job interview down south, nearer her kids this Friday and will visit the girls this weekend. So my boy and I are going to spend the weekend together. I hope I discover that he loves me and wants to continue living with me. I don't know what I would do if he wants to become emancipated. I think that right here is where it belongs. This probably sounds silly, but it just seems like one thing after another.

A friend of ours came here today to see me, professionally, she is a counselor. I wound up breaking down. There is a special place in my heart that my wife fits just perfectly into. Do you know what I mean? One of her teeth is just a little bit crooked -- it kills me. I guess it's not right but, somehow, a silly little imperfection can just read my heart.

I think I might be going crazy,

_P.

I know I'm going to be embarrassed for sending this thing. I can always move to a new planet.