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Memories: College

This is the second in a series of posts where I recall some memories of earlier in my life. Think of it as memoirs no one wants to read. The memories are as accurate as I can make them, though they may be slightly embellished due to faded memory, and may merge several related memories together. I mentioned a while ago that I was home schooled throughout my high school years. The only social interaction I had was with those in the church I went to. In that church, there… Read More »Memories: College

Memories: Going to the Feast

I am going to write a series of posts where I recount memories. They may be slightly embellished or multiple memories merged together, but will be completely accurate in their essence. It was the day we were to leave for the feast in Dayton, Ohio. The feast (or Festival of Tabernacles) was a seven day religious conference held in different communities. Members were expected to save ten percent of their income over the year and then spend it for this convention. This year (somewhere in the mid to late 80s)… Read More »Memories: Going to the Feast

Father’s Day

Today is Father’s Day, at least in my country. On two levels, Father’s Day means nothing to me. On one level, it’s a fake holiday that I’m betting was created because of fathers feeling left out due to Mother’s Day. I have little to no respect for fake Hallmark holidays. On another level, my father and I were pretty much in active enmity, so I have no reason to celebrate it. Because of my particular background, I don’t think too highly of fatherhood. Not to say my opinion on that… Read More »Father’s Day

The Assault of Memories

I have a very good memory. Too good, in fact. Every minute of every day I am assaulted by memories. Some are good, some are bad, some are embarrassing, and some are traumatic. Some are just dreams of a world that should be and isn’t. But I can’t shut then off, and they don’t fail to affect me. The good memories are maybe the most traumatic, paradoxically, because they are things that are gone and may never come back. It seems as I age, there is a kind of plaque… Read More »The Assault of Memories

In Memory of my Father

My memories of my father are incredibly conflicted – and as the time since his death recedes they only become more conflicted. Truth be told, he was also a conflicted person, though I don’t think he understands exactly how conflicted he was. He kept his own counsel. I often wonder how much of that was because of the family he was raised in, the time he was raised in, his particular mental struggles, a combination of all three or another factor I haven’t mentioned yet. But he kept a lot… Read More »In Memory of my Father