Fortune Formula

The Lucky One.

Lucky.. haaa.. 

Here i lie in jail alone.

I watched a film .. one like many ive seen.. but today i cried a lot.

Tears.. actual tears..I stood back from time to time.. aware of my ridiculous tears and was incredulous seeing myself so easily afflicted

And I thought how anyone else seeing me would shake thier heads in sad disdain.

I realised or guessed then,  that the the tears were for my regrets and omissions.. my opportunities forfeited..and my very brave young son who has come all this way never knowing  anything of the truth concerning my absence.

So i watched the US marines in the movie doing thier killing and shooting in Iraq,  and then as some of them were killed in the fray.

I lived into it as i always do.. but i have become hardened to these vivid depictions of young men fighting for thier lives,  like i had done a few times.

The death and blood and fear all the same through the ages. 
How each one of us young soldiers was trained to work together with our battle mates, even if it meant sacrificing onesself.

I did that years ago,  when I had my turn ..even without realising it.. where i ran .. like this movie man .. into the teeth of death itself.. but lived.. as my mates died. 

No reason i could find,  could explain why i was still alive and so many of them were dead. 
My troop commander had chosen to place us where we were on the battle field and so many variables came into play,  defining the path of my feet on that battlefield.

My feet .. that walked out of that firefight alive while so many right next to me fell dead.

The "survivor guilt"  was the same then, as it is described in all the movies... and with no councelling or treatment afterwards...stayed writhing darkly in the depths of my mind.. 
I learnt how to deal with it over the years and replayed it in sections and stored those like  video tapes..stacked in  a dusty cupboard. 

When i replay any of those tapes .. the blank spots reignite and the sounds and smells come flooding back.. 
I no longer avoid it.. i have grown into it and accepted it.

I have come to realise that life and its courses,  for every one of us,  is defined by the thousands of possible variables that are in our every step each day.

Rarely entirely in our control.

So once again i watched the film actor enduring the agonies of loss.. guilt.. and ingrained traumatic damage.... just like i did.

Just like many of us did.Just as many are doing now.Just like i am still doing here every day.. 

Another battlefield.. different challenges.. different adversaries... and just as many different variables of luck.

Luck.. fate.. or divine design.?
That soldier in the movie did the same as me when he went home.. taking the time to visit the bereaved families,  to explain to them all of the brave last days.. hours .. and seconds thier sons had endured.

Few tears for me on all of this.. as i have replayed it in every way and grown resistant to the old raw emotions. 

The sadness remains eternal and part of my bones.
This time though .. today ... the tears ran freely down my face .. and they were not for me or my brave comrades..

Not for my devastated wife left destitute on remnants of my past futile efforts..
Not for my longsuffering mom or the hardships of so many others far worse off than me...imprisonment.. rape.. Torture.. starvation..
unimaginable cruelty.. warcrimes ..all the hatred and greed..

No.. these tears were for my brave young son.
The film i watched today had him there. 
Just like i knew him .. just  like he was with me when i last saw him.

.The likenesses were uncanny and no matter how i tried to get a hold of myself...i was taken by the reality of my love and sorrow for him.
.Choices we make are integral  parts of the formula of our  fortunes.

There are real and imagined influences.. religious.. magical..occult...superstitious.. logical.. calculated ideas and luck..

Co incidence ...fate.. prayer.. statistical probability and hope.

We humans are wired to find reason.. explanations or answers for everything... and when there arent any or when we cant find them....we make them up.
My gosh but we are the masters of spin.!
My gosh .. but i am ashamed of my desperate naievity and lemming like tendency to follow blindly in hope.I do that..
Ive done thatI never stop hoping for more.I want to be on the side of the winning team.

How easy it would be to be content with any of the immaculately groomed dogmas.

Prophesies.. predictions.. promises and flamboyant descriptions of paradise.

How easy it would be to pack all that away like those past lessons into my stack of video cassettes... and then to sit back knowing i was likely to be given a gate pass one day.

I want to keep my best options open and to err on the right side.I dont want to get to the gate for the big match.. and find that i dont have enough money to buy a ticket.. or that i dont have enough credits in my account.

To have come all this way.. endured so much.. learnt so much .. loved so many.. made so many mistakes... atoned and repaid so many.

Only to be turned away by the guy at the gate.No..Im not taking that chance..Im not leaving it too late..Im gonna hedge my bets..I will always keep praying.

Ch (11) Randomness

The Lucky One.Lucky.. haaa..

 Here i lie in jail alone.

I watched a film .. one like many ive seen.. but today i cried a lot.

I stood back from time to time.. aware of my ridiculous tears and was incredulous myself.. and thought how anyone else seeing me would shake thier heads in sad disdain.

I realised then,  that the the tears were for my regrets and omissions.. my opportunities forfeited..and my son.

So i watched the movie of marines doing thier killing and shooting in Iraq ,  and then as some of them were killed in the fray....I lived into it as i always do..
but i have become hardened to these vivid depictions of young men fighting for thier lives like i had done a few times.

How each one of us was supposed to work together with our battle mates even if it meant sacrificing yourself.

I did that once,  even without realising it.. where i ran .. like this movie man .. into the teeth of death itself.. but lived.. as my mates died.

No reason i could find could explain why i was still alive and so many of them were dead. 

My troop commander had chosen to place us where we were on the battle field and so many variables  came into play defining the path of my feet on that battlefield.

My feet .. that walked out of that firefight alive while so many right next to me fell dead.

The survivors guilt was the same then as described in all the movies... and with no councelling or treatment stayed writhing darkly in the depths of my mind..

 I learnt how to deal with it over the years and replayed it in sections and stored those like a dusty rack of old video tapes.. in a dusty cupboard. 

When i play any of those tapes .. the blank spots reignite and the sounds and smells come flooding back..

 I have come to realise that life and its courses for every one of us is defined by the thousands of possible variables that are in our every step every day.

So once again i watched the film actor enduring the agonies of loss.. guilt.. and ingrained traumatic damage.... just like i did. 

Just like i am still doing here every day.. Another battlefield.. different challenges.. different adversaries... and just as many different variables of luck...
or fate..?

He did same as me , and went home to explain to the families of his comrades now dead.. the last days.. hours .. and seconds of each he had seen..had watched die..

No tears for me anymore on this,  as i have replayed it in every way and grown thick calluses to inhibit that which i could not change then or now.

This time ... the tears i smeared miserably into my cheeks were not for me or my brave comrades..my devastated wife left destute on remnants of my past futile efforts.. or  my longsuffering mom or the hardships far worse than mine endured by many.

Torture.. starvation.. unimaginable cruelty.. warcrimes .. hatred..

No.. these tears were for my brave young son.

The film i watched today had him there.
Just like i knew him .. just  like he was with me when i last saw him.

The likenesses were uncanny and no matter how i tried to get a hold of myself.. i was taken by the reality of my own sight.
But today i cried not just for him as i watched that filmshow.
It was for us.. not because of what we had missed out.. but because of what could have been if i had stepped a pace to the left or right.. or death or greater blessing.

Ch (8a) Malicious Intent

Names have been substituted.
They...?

.. in sickness and in health.. good times and bad..until we die?
Or end up in jail ?

For years l have waited in vain for a letter or a card from them ..  but none came.
I wrote frequently and phoned when i could very rarely.

There was no response.

I contacted a number of mutual friends who gave me small bits of news of home and the young boy.

Various very special and concerned friends went to visit my two closest at thier little house  in order to determine what could be the problem.
Why there was no response to my letters.. calls.. or messages.

Every visitor was regarded with malevolent hostility no matter how white were the flags they bore.

News returning to me remained guarded and scant.
As if .. all those that made any approach to the lone mother .. were met with something too sad .. too shameful or too awful for them to relay to me the true extent of the situation.

Everybody we know .. and all who have followed this case and its misfortunes.. and my error.. are aware of the shame and ignominy that those two had to endure all these years because of my situation.

I am ever traumatised.. devastated at thier suffering and great loss.
Everything i owned... i signed over to them and assured them that there would be ranks of friends of mine who would line up to lend a hand ..or  extend with some  compassionate support .

But from them there was no response.. only a venomous spewing of hatred and blame toward me and my family.

Isolated and cloistered.. they became aloof ..and all contact with me was deliberately cut off.
My many carers stood back aghast!

Still we remained patient as we clearly all sympathised with the fact that they were enduring such awful shame and humiliation as they attended thier daily lives at work and school and round the town.
We had to respect thier choice of isolation and privacy.

A great silence descended over the whole episode as they hoped that time would wash away the truth of the past.. my indiscretions and the reams of gossip that followed them everywhere.
But the silence made it all much worse.
Everyone knew... and those that would normally have been disinterested.. picked up on all the hidden details..most of which were incorrect or deliciously skewed.

After years of further anxious waiting and patient care.. i dared to phone never quite knowing what i would say.
I did it.. and it wasnt so bad.. but only because i did not dare breach any of the more pressing issues i really wanted to resolve.
Again i did it and penetrated a little further every time.... but never nearly as much as i so desperately yearned to learn of.
This time i really needed to find out why it was i had no responses from him.
Whether it was really him that was angry and mute.. or whether it was  her stopping any and all forms of my communications.
The details of this conversatiom are briefly covered below..

Of course times are hard and understandably money is short and that was her primary concern and any funds i can summon further i should attempt to divert to her.

Then i told her i was not yet in any position to make any firm commitments.. but that there would be a residual payment coming to her..as soon as i could manage it.

This was vague and non committal .. but my situation is the same.

Then i said that i wanted contact with him now... soon....
This weekend.

I asked for his mobile number and email address.

Both were declined.

I then asked her to allow me to phone him at school and for her to lift the sanctioned contact there.

She declined all of this.

I asked then whether she had given him all the letters i had written.None have been given to him.
I then asked her to give me some "positive press "  with him so that he would be more inclined to contact me himself.

She declined saying he was angry with me... and the professional opinion of the psychiatrist had insisted that there be no contact.

It was here i smelt a rat.. and realised that it was not him and his anger doing this.
It was her....

I responded saying it was clear that it was she ..that was causing this negative non communication.
I told her this  to her face and again she reiterated that it was by order of the professional psychiatrist.

I said that psychiatrist had never met me nor has any idea of my character or the circumstances... and i would love to get hold of her.

I could see where this was all going and declined  more emphatically her further requests for me to pay her money for my son.

She said he has suffered eight years of extreme humiliation and suggested that i had no idea of this.

I said that I suffered every day the utmost shame and embarrassment.

I mentioned that there were now hundreds of  caring and sympathetic people who know of all this... and that every day  my cruel separation from him... is  a great sadness for them as it is clearly an agony for me.

I told her of all the times i had explained to everyone how much l was aware that she and the boy had suffered.. how much she had achieved as a lone mother... and how hard things were for her now.

I mentioned that many people i know...are aware of all this.. and share this sadness with me.

I mentioned then that it would be in the boys interest to contact me because his welfare could benefit from my  future financial situation.. should he decide to make the call.

She replied angrily saying i was using a blackmail tactic.

I said i was not going a single week further without contact and not a cent would be forthcoming unless there is a two way street.

She said she cant force him to contact me.. i said all she needed to do was to give me a bit of "positive press" and he would quickly come to his senses.

She declined saying she cant force him to do anything against  his will and that he was angry with me for fucking up his life and causing him to miss so many opportunities.

.These sounded to me like her own words ? 

By now it was clear to her... that I knew it was her that was doing this... and I said to her,  that every facebook request of mine that he has deleted.. has been like a stab to my heart and his finger in my eye.

I said that there were hundreds of our friends all behind me waiting for him to wake up and make contact with me and that there would not be a vestige of shame to bear.. only care.

She said no one had offered her the slightest bit of help thru the whole ordeal except my mom to a limited degree.
My mom often begged me to get her to visit and to collect cash and gifts.. but she declined.. siting too busy and not keen on begging herself.

I made it clear that there were hundreds of dear caring friends  standing in the wings,  ready to help, but were too horrified at the way she had spurned.. rejected and betrayed me as i lay so helplessly out of contact in a distant jail.

Many who would have pulled together in many different ways .. had this acrimony not been present.

The shame and embarrassment was only magnified by her  disproportionate betrayal and malicious treatment of me.

I asked then.. how much longer she expected me to continue being cut off so entirely.. and that there was no chance of my feeding funding into this angry one way street.

Once again she said this was blackmail.. and I said absolutely not.

I said to her.. i loved her.. i always will.. and that I loved him very much and only want the best for them both and said I was the one most tired of all the begging now.

I said i planned to let my brother buy a rentable property for me and that if all went well .. she would collect the rent from that.

I let her know i would never return to south africa but that i would have airtickets available for them when i regain my balance in the U.K. 

I said my brother Hamish.. was now my closest trusted family and that he will administer the business of finances.

Should  he die.. then the proceeds would cede to my nephews who express more love and care and interest in me than her or my angry son. 

I said i was fully aware that everything I give to her will go to his benefit .

So.. by now she was well on the back foot and threatening to put the phone down but i think good sense may have prevailed.

I said again that I had waited patiently for eight years.. and I   wanted to know how much longer she was going to keep me isolated from him.

I said i am not waiting indefinitely and this malitiod torment had to stop.

I also mentioned that I am publishing all this far and wide as I have been doing.. and that isolating the boy is not going to reduce the shame and embarrasssment which shrouds this whole debacle.

Everyone knows whats happened  and its all the worse for gossip and rumours when nobody says anything or knows the facts.

I mentioned then to her... that nothing i could do will change what happened .. and I have repeated my apologies..sorrow and regrets for my aknowledged indiscretions.
I would continue to do this publicly and will remain open and accountable.

How long am i to remain isolated from him?

How long is he going to remain angry and cut off from my love and associated benefits ?

Give him all my letters now!!

Tell him to mail me.

I said many friends had tried talking to him.. and she mentioned all the previous visitors bearing paltry gifts.

I said I would request more folks to come in and try.. but she said not to bother..the boy is too upset and angry and wont listen.

I said to her.." its all been you.". "Its all up to you"

Now we all know whats going on

We all knew

But now we are sure

We were right

Ch (16) divorce; Exed in Posterity

Lonely Road

Still fire

Still we grow

Still i love her and care

Still .. she will never know

Still im gently sad with soft regret

Still i hope she may review her ire

Still i will be patient all the years

Still hopelessly jailed but free

Still getting stronger

Still progressing

Still just me

Now