My Father

Jesus tends to wake me up extremely early to write so this time I listened and its 3am.

I remember my Father and Mother being different towards me and even myself prior to my childhood trauma event at 7 years old. That event unfortunately had changed things forever for everyone and they both and I had to really work hard to get me back to any kind of normal. By the time I had graduated High School, it was no where near as bad as it was in Middle School.

My Father, to use his generations terminology is very much a "square" and I'd say my Mom is as well since I'll never forget the look on her face when she heard Led Zepplin for the first time.

I don't use the word "square" in a negative way, I needed a square, I needed as many squares as possible as a child. They are reliable, dependable, resilent and a good foundation to stand upon.

Early on my Father used to take me to work at the newspaper and I was hooked, all I ever wanted was that office or that cubical and that red stapler and see how many times a day I could use the words "That's what she said".

My dilema was that I was a terrible salesman, my only and first computer sale went to a person who died days later and I was no wiz in school so forget accounting or math engineering.

For some odd reason my Father purchased for my birthday and Apple II +, it was the most expensive gift I ever had for my birthday and it far surpassed the $800 microwave my mom had. My Father and I had taken a BASIC language course at Radio Shack and I was hooked.

He used to tell me, create an application and you can sell it to the newspaper! That never happened and I ended up trading games with other kids on floppy disk but that challenge was always there and I could not turn the computer off. This green glow in our den would be there into the wee hours of the morning and it wasn't all games.

Then I just started working, at 13 and my Mom had to sign a work permit so that I could just get out there and scoop ice cream or pump gas or deliver newspapers and I loved it. I loved to work, I loved the money, I was 13 and had a $100 in my pocket all the time.

I never really cared about the money, so that idea was lost in translation and my brother early on seemed to listen to that lesson more. However, I was always the one to take people out to dinner, give a $20 to a homeless person, buy pizza for all my college broke friends, even giving a big gulp full of change to a homeless guy one night and I think my shoes but that might be to old to remember and I'm still kind of that way today.

Being so different, challenged my Father and Mother "squares" and I truly wanted to make them proud of me. I think I did get a few things right. My Father was always there for me at the other end of the phone line when I was 2,000 miles away and had burned through all my money sleeping in some gracious mexicans garage.

I'd call my Father and he would say "Did you have enough yet?"

He would wire me a few hundred dollars and I'd make my way back home until the next time which did get less and less and I learned.

I finally got my act together and gave him three grand children and was living a very lucritive California life, although even that didn't start out very well, it was more than I think anyone in my family ever imagined I could accomplish as normal.

In 2009 for my divorce, it split the entire family. Bad choices all around, take your pick. I ended up sleeping in a house in Woodstock, New York that was bending in the middle and had to walk on an incline to my room that I rented for a case of wine to an artist.

The smell of ganja and some random dog licking my face had me calling my brother who was the only one that offered to take me in.

We all tried to work things out, some more than others, some had different agendas and my children suffered the most. It was like going from light and into a darkness that was never ending.

I could have done nothing, I could have just sat on my stump and just be what everyone wanted me to me. I didn't have to do anything at that point, everything was gone. I could have just gone and lived in the woods or a van down by the river. But I didn't and $275,000 later, I finished paying my child support in 2021.

My Father and Mother and Brother were never the same after this, no one was and no one really spoke about it. Its just one of those tragedies.

In 2012, for the end of the Mayan calendar, I had left my job and went to Mount Shasta for 40 days. My health was deteriorating and I needed a break. Mount Shasta is the only mountain in North America that meets the buddhist criteria for a sacred mountain, I think there is like 7 different variables, I have no idea what they are.

Mount Shasta is a volcano in northern California and has a glacier of water in the caldera. This water flows from 10,000 feet? down already established lava tubes from the last time it erupted 10,000 of thousands years ago?

The water is ice cold in the springs and tastes like snow. After drinking this water for 7 days, you have replaced all the water in your body with this mountains water. Since you are over 70% water, you are now very much part of the energy or "prana" of this sacred mountain.

About 2 weeks into this, I used to sun gaze in the early morning outside of my tent. This morning, Jesus and my Grandfather showed up just as if they were another real person.

My Grandfather, my Fathers father, was upset that his Baptist ministry was not passed down to my Father. His only son and something that was an issue early on in my Father's life.

Jesus was helping my Grandfather to understand that I was ready and willing to do anything that he asked me to do and that everything was fine. This gave comfort to my Grandfather and they were gone. Of course this just excited me to no end and I thought I was going to have my own little country church and ALL of that, which didn't happen. It was more to set my Grandfather at ease on his life's work.

After this, around the 40 day mark, I had ran out of food and while I didn't have to beg, wonderful beautiful souls would offer to share meals with me. The taste of smoked salmon after not eating for awhile was incredible.

One of my guides on the mountain was a man named Elijah, he came to me and said that he spoke to my Grandfather and he said that I needed to call my Father because there is a "window" coming up to where his soul can leave the planet and it might be the last time you ever speak to him.

I was like "No fcking way!" I had that all tied up in a tight little bow and I am NOT opening up that can of worms.

Again, Elijah said, your Grandfather insists that you do this.

So I had a flip phone and I was pretty much stranded in a tent at 10,000 feet and I had a full cell phone signal.

I started text emailing him, telling him I was ready to get plugged back in and I was stranded on the mountain.

He made his demands, which were reasonable and sent me money, paid for my hotel and got me on a Greyhound to Florida.

While there with my Mom and Dad, I had the most wonderful reconnection possible and I didn't tell him about his "window" I did tell him about Grandpa and Jesus.

Once I got my next contract in 29 Palms, my Dad gave me my Mom's car, drove me across the country and paid for my first and last months rent and hotel and food and everything.

During our trip, not much was said. My Father was having mini strokes in his head and he was going blind driving down the road and he would tell me, I need to pull over for a bit.

A 1 or 2 months later, he collapsed on the golf course and had quadruple bypass surgery.

I was at home when he had his operation and in prayer, I could feel him leaving his body and being so excited about his new one!

He then went to each of us, asked me if he needed to stay any longer and I said, "you've done more than I could have every asked for, it wasn't easy for you, I know" and my brother said he could leave as well.

Then he came to my Mom. My Mom very strongly said no way, I'm not ready for this, I need more time.

That's when he came back in.

Since then I've been pretty hands off with them, I think I've put them through enough stress and they need a break from me. I kind of want to leave things on a high note. I don't do funerals or like to see people I love decline. I had a panic attack watching my Grandpa in the nursing home. For some reason, I need to remember them strong.

My Father is very "square" and I'm very much something else.

This is ok, because that something else, needed a "square" and will always love him now and into the next.

In Love & Light,

Bryan




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