Sixty-One and Counting

 I am half way through my sixty-first year.  I never thought I would live this long because my dad and his dad, my paternal grandfather, both died young.  

My sister Terri gave Gail and I AncestryDNA kits for this past Christmas.  It was a unique gift.  I can’t believe I willingly spit into a tube and sent my spittle off to who knows where to be “tested” to find out as much as I could about who and where I came from but I did.

Growing up neither side of our family’s relatives were well known to us.  I don’t know if it was because I wasn’t curious enough (I was or at least I thought I was) or it wasn’t talked about with “the children”.  I don’t know which case it was still to this day.  I think it wasn’t by design.  Who knows at this point. 

Shortly after my Dad’s death my Aunt Kay made a photo album our my Dad’s family with a short family tree.  My dad had five brothers and four sisters.  She also said that she researched where the “Melancon’s “ had come into the United States from Nova Scotia.  What I was told was that all the Melancon’s in the United States were from two brothers who entered the U. S. with one settling near Chicago and one settling in Louisiana.  My dad’s side comes from the “brother” who ended up in Louisiana.  So if you are a Melancon and your ancestors are from Louisiana we are probably blood related.

Maybe the AncestryDNA will confirm that story.  Maybe it won’t.  Life is like that.  Full of hope and unanswered questions.  I certainly don’t expect a few million birthday wishes from all my kin in September.

Well well well.

 Hmmm.  I haven’t.  A long silence, forgotten really.  Not much to say about it.  I tend to overthink it.  Discarding ideas because I am waiting for some seminal moment.  An event that changes everything.  Like winning the lottery.  Walk into a store put down your greenback and walk out with another piece of paper that can be worthless or worth it.  It can happen but most likely it never will.  What does happen is what life is made up of.  Being.  Owning it.  Focus.  Writing the next great story.  Funny how I wanted to be a writer when I was a teenager.  I started writing poetry shortly after my father’s death.  Literature was my favorite.  Reading it in High School English class was something I was engaged with.  I loved it.  Wanted to write like the authors we studied. Now, all these decades removed from that I am still frozen in my tracks.  The desire can grow cold like coffee sitting in a half forgotten cup on the side table by a favorite chair.  Why is that?  I think it is because I went about in the wrong way.  Instead of expecting “the greatest idea to appear out of nothing”  I should have started  writing and never stop.  You see.  I am a writer.  It is what a person does and by extension what they are.  If I don’t write then I am not a writer.  Well,well,well!

Wedding Cake vs. Burn Ban

Okay.  It has been quite a while since my last post and frankly I haven't thought about writing anything for some time.  Gail has been baking and decorating her daughter's wedding cake...and stressing...so I have been staying out of her way, lending support and spending time outside.  I decided I would have an adult beverage, smoke a decent cigar and have a fire in the fire pit.  Everything is cool.  I am sipping Jack Daniels, smoking a MonteCristo cigar and enjoying my fire when someone alerts me via Facebook that there is a burn ban in Jefferson County...oops, my bad.  It had rained a few days earlier (I know because I scooped the rain water that had collected on the tarp we put over Gail's pool) and I figured no worries, after all somebody in the neighborhood was burning something earlier this week.  You could smell it, honest.

Inside I go.  My solitude not to mention my Jack was gone.  The stress level is apparent, hanging in the air like the smoke rings from my now extinguished cigar.  I am unable to help.  Yes it looks good...no I am not just saying that...don't worry it will be beautiful.  Trust me.  I am beginning to wish I was back outside risking incarceration...just kidding.  Really it will be good.

Sense of Change

Have you ever had the feeling something is going to change
 and you don't know if the change will be for the better or worse?
 I have that feeling right now.
 Can't put my finger on it but
it is buzzing in the background
like a bee looking for a place to land
what will happen will the bee pollinate
or sting I don't know  I wish I did
pleasure or pain can come
from the same event
It all depends on your point of view

Summer Number Three

I cried when she walked off the Jetway and I saw her for the first time. 
Ten months apart and fifty-seven days together. 
The time flew by and now she is gone again. 
She is back where she lives again.
I, we miss her already.
I, we love her and want her to be happy.


  

Last Day

OK, here it is again.  I am such a slacker when it comes to writing this blog.  What does it matter?  No one reads this, right? 
I was so pissed a couple of days ago.  I always call my daughter after I leave work and talk to her about what is going on, school and friends, etc. when the subject turned to her mom, my former spouse.  It seems my child support (I also pay for our daughter's medical and dental insurance out of my pocket when my ex is required to cover her by court order) isn't enough money.  There was never enough money.  Does anyone have a few million they can loan me lol?   Aaaagh!
I digress.  I don't mind paying for my daughter's welfare, I only wish she is taken care of well since I am living five states away.  When I hear of how her mother is spending the child support it does upset me.  I mean child support is for the child right?  I know what your thinking.  I should get my daughter to live with me in Texas...I am glad you thought of that! 

Lent, Spring and What is Next

I am a catholic christian.
I am in the midst of this Lenten season.
I am listening to Your words. 
Renewal, my renewal.
Springing forth with growth, 
just as a tender shoot pierces the earth,
 reaching toward heaven.
I too will break free of the earth
 when You call me,
I will leave my grave just as Lazarus did.
I will be home and I will sing.
I will sing!