Letters from a Son

Yesterday was a special day . . .

I’m not sure what yesterday would have been like if you were still around. I wonder what time you would have come by and how the tables and barbecue would have been set up and ready. I suppose you would probably be wearing the retired man’s outfit or something comfortable and golf-like, white shoes, a pair of casual shorts, and a Florida-like design on a collared polo shirt with maybe a gold watch around your wrist and a white baseball hat on your head.

I like to think about where Continue reading

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Memorial Day Thought

Way back when before my white collar turned blue, I used to sit at a small cubicle with a telephone in the right hand corner and an out and in box to my left. I had a shelf with a stack of mainly unorganized papers, drawers filled with sample cards, customer orders, pending samples, sample orders, and a call sheet for new clients so that I could open new accounts. I was 26 years-old in a suit and tie job. I was a salesman during a tough time just before the garment industry took huge turn in a different direction.

My sales were Continue reading

From an In The Classroom Entry: About Fear

I am not sure if I knew what fear was. I just knew I was afraid. I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t know the difference between feeling and emotion or even if there was one. I never thought about the emoting itself, which is innate or within us and natural; however, a feeling is different because feeling is the mind’s experience which we tie to an emotion. Therefore, the emotion is fear —however, the feeling of being afraid is due to the events of my life, which I tie to that emotion, Continue reading

About My Own Little Sanctuary

There was a small room in the corner of our little home at 2683 in East Meadow. The room was equipped a with fish tank, a love seat, a small desk with a computer screen and keyboard on top. I had a small lava lamp on my desk (because why not?) and book shelf along the wall with shelves filled with books from the great poets, writers, and pictures of my life, my wife, and my family.  I had a few of my accomplishments framed and placed on the wall. There was a document regarding The Old Man and his service to our country, which was signed in ink by the President of The United States of America, framed and hanging proudly on the wall. I called this place the writing room.

Each Continue reading

About Treatment Time

In the last moments of my time at a place in Kerhonkson, New York, my bags were packed and the paperwork concerning my treatment over the last 28 days was in hand. imagesB9YILB6NMy room was empty but yet filled with the energy of memory and the recollection of late night conversations with the revolving roommates that completed their stay in treatment.
My bed was made, my drawers were cleaned, and in moments, I was about to complete my discharge and return home. At this time, the other clients or residents were Continue reading

From Junkie Diaries: The Basement

I was hidden in the dark basement of a corner bar in a small strip of stores that ran next to the 7-11 by the corner of Front Street and Merrick. My town was as normal as any other small suburban place. There was a tall water tower in the heart of the town with a flashing red light at its top to warn off low-flying airplanes. We had one high school, one junior high, and two elementary schools.
Like most towns, ours had different sections that signified where we were from. And there was no hatred towards either side —it was more of a geographical statement, which connected a level of understanding of where we lived, what stores we went to, and where we hung out.

Ours was neither an exceptionally rich or poor town. We were the middle income. We were the Continue reading