`Sara & Tim
The sun is shining. I love where I work. I adore my children. I have enough money in the bank to see me through another month. My car still rides. I have no liver spots that I know of, brain tumors, or mortal enemies presently devising my demise. I'm in like Flynn. The woman that I love has moved out and left the children with me...again. What a panic. Her name is Sara. It's like being blind for the first 30 years of one's life and waking one morning to a white desert rose; intoxicated by its aroma, giddy from its beauty, stung by its thorn.
I teach at a humble prep school in New Jersey. It is an all-boys school. Catholic. The students wear blazers and ties, and obviously pants and shoes. The boys are spectacular. School let out five days ago and, I'll be damned, I miss them. The pre-class turmoil until I lasso them and begin the lesson. I teach young minds. Some listen. Some don't. Sometimes I learn more than they do. Sometimes I hear my disconnected voice rambling on about Holden Caulfield's predisposition with what other people are thinking when, boom, I get real and begin a real discussion with what is really going on in their lives. This is when interested learning takes place. This is where the future seeds are planted today. I'm a goddamn teacher. Heh.
06-16-05 I have five days where the children are still in school while I am not. I started my day this morning by gathering the three youngest in my bed for some slow wake-up decompression. Karma brought her gnarly, tick and flee-ridden hide in as well. In fact, she received a gang-petting. What a spoiled puppie. Ian tip-toed back-and-forth several times until I arose, gave him a hug and saw him disappear out the door for his final day of school. Tomorrow is his Promotion/Graduation. Sara brought him shopping yesterday for some Fancy-schmancy clothes. These are his first formal duds since he was three. He is dramatically transformed into an adult the moment he puts on the tie. He is impressed with himself. I well with sentimental pride. We will pass this way but once.
The bus rumbled down the street and stole away with Sam and Cabe in its cargo bay. The other kids cheered their loading as the wheels of ol' 455 red turned away down Kiltie Drive. Frank the busdriver is questionable...for he has a ponytail, yet he is a Methodist with an agenda. Is he one of those blokes wearing religion as a fox's clothing to prey on all the innocent lambs?
6-24-05 Another day on the river. I lived no more than 45 minutes from the Delaware all my young life and rarely had I availed myself its lovely and entertaining ways. Ian went fishing on the canal, stocked with trout. The kids and I went to the concrete quay and swam for a few hours, only after picnicing in the Lambertville park.
6-27-05 Happy birthday, Da. The old man would've been 74 today. I spoke with Ted earlier about the impeding rain for golf tomorrow. We never mentioned Dad. I mentioned his birthday to the kids. They suggested a celebration of sorts. Something along the lines of goodies and sweets for them. I guess the kids figure that sugar hangovers would somehow please their grandfather.
The cable guy didn't come to Sara's because no real appointment was made. Sam, Cabe and Iso met mommy's workmates, saw the hi-lo in action, picked up a Banano's bike, ate pizza in Sare's apartment, and reveled in every moment at the shrine known as Mom's Place.
7-5-05 Happy Birthday, America. I'm such a freak. To salve the hurt of Sam proclaiming Caleb was smart enough not to go with mommy to her apartment to wait for the cable guy I loaded she, Isobel and yours truly into the Windstar for a fun-filled Fourth in Parsippany, NJ. From 10:45 AM to 5:30 PM the four of us made due. Sara and I hung stuff on the walls, moved around some furniture, unclogged the bathtub drain, while Isobel pranced around digging into anything and everything and Sammy played on the computer. I felt like a Jew recently rescued from a concentration camp unboarding a ship on the shores of Israel.
It feels over more and more and the pain grows until it will eventually burst and dissipate into the cracks and crevices of what we once had.
My best moments:
The time Ian's small hand first searched, found and held mine.
When Sara's smile lit up my world for the first time that 1993 April day in MBE.
2:20 PM 1-19-95 Samantha Joy stubbornly surfed into the world, beached in her mommy's arms.
Caleb broke through the front line (thanks EPI-Man) for a touchdown out of mommy's end zone.
The first time I heard Isobel cry.
When that same crying stopped seven months later.
That Saturday spring afternoon when I hit a homerun at the age of fourteen. My dad was there.
Accompanying Sam to her all-star baseball games.
Seeing each of my kids bowl a strike.
Witnessing that marvelous moment when they rode a bike for their first times, untethered.
Caleb's first intentional go at a laugh. I was sad, February '98, and he made a funny face.
Isobel's first squeezy hug.
When Ian graduated from Harry Potter to Tolkien, and we dug deeper intellectually.
Every time I moved with Sara.
Every time I moved Sara.
Every time Sara.
7-14-05 Saturn has kicked my terrestrial ass these passed two-plus years. I'm ready for a little Jupiter at this point. Two more days to go apparently and I will be free of the convoluted rings. I chose Joy's house for my birthday. I can't exlplain myself sometimes. Caleb and Isobel enjoyed the beach tremendously. I have sat and counted infinite grains of sand with me mum beside me. I try not to begrudge our few times together because of the flagrant disregard she has given to those most important to her over the years. She's a bitchy saint. She is the most negative optimist I have ever known, the happiest sad person, the weakest giant, and the craziest fox. I attribute all of these attributes to her genes and experience. I hold her responsible for nothing but what she readily admits is of her own doing. Therefore, she is sin-free.
7-16-05 Goodbye Saturn. Time to move forward again. A weight rests always upon each of us. How great it is remains soley our own conclusion.
7-19-05 Fig broke through the solid wall of wah I had constructed after my 'world' came undone one hundred times ago. I have allowed Sara all too much influence over my self, like the moon over the ocean's tides. No more. Choices have been made and deeds done which my own self respect should not ignore. I have many friends who care about me and wish me no pain. Ironically, the one I portend to love the most, Sara Love, continually inflicts pain upon pain, the most that any person has ever throughout my life, and declares, "I never want to hurt you," yet I am the one she continues to hurt the most, over and over. There is no one left to blame for this but me: Tim. Enough and done and over and out
7-28-05 God spoke with me today through the personage of an angry Realtor. God does this sometimes. The burning bush is so passe and miracles are certainly showoffski. How better to communicate his message than through a salesman who does the opposite of selling. "Listen to this, asshole: Fuck you, and stick it up your fucking ass."
Initially, I was pissed and upset. Revenge needed to be wrought. I dropped a message to his broker, Roy, called my cousin, Mark, to let him know that one of his fellow Re/Maxians was a mental rogue, laughed out loud about it all, and realized that God, the Almighty, had actually given me a facial through the conduit of Cory Marks. "Fuck you, asshole. Come down to the office right now and I'll kick your fucking ass."
Translated into Godese, what was actually being said by Cory/God is, "Stay out of New Jersey! It is not where you can be. The children will wither and all will suffer. Give up, will ya, on the idea of moving to NJ?" Loud and clear. Thanks Cory Marks.
9-2-05
Crazy. I have moved my four kids to Rangeley, Maine, and we are all so much the better for it. Sara remains in parsippany, NJ. The karma concept is not lightly considered here. She plans on staying at her job for now, going to Germany for "Oktoberfest", since the tickets have already been bought, it sure would be a shame to waste it. She is all but out of my heart entirely. Such a sad waste. I could have moved on with her even after so much betrayal on both our parts but she persists. She's in love with another man. Oh well.
I teach at a humble prep school in New Jersey. It is an all-boys school. Catholic. The students wear blazers and ties, and obviously pants and shoes. The boys are spectacular. School let out five days ago and, I'll be damned, I miss them. The pre-class turmoil until I lasso them and begin the lesson. I teach young minds. Some listen. Some don't. Sometimes I learn more than they do. Sometimes I hear my disconnected voice rambling on about Holden Caulfield's predisposition with what other people are thinking when, boom, I get real and begin a real discussion with what is really going on in their lives. This is when interested learning takes place. This is where the future seeds are planted today. I'm a goddamn teacher. Heh.
06-16-05 I have five days where the children are still in school while I am not. I started my day this morning by gathering the three youngest in my bed for some slow wake-up decompression. Karma brought her gnarly, tick and flee-ridden hide in as well. In fact, she received a gang-petting. What a spoiled puppie. Ian tip-toed back-and-forth several times until I arose, gave him a hug and saw him disappear out the door for his final day of school. Tomorrow is his Promotion/Graduation. Sara brought him shopping yesterday for some Fancy-schmancy clothes. These are his first formal duds since he was three. He is dramatically transformed into an adult the moment he puts on the tie. He is impressed with himself. I well with sentimental pride. We will pass this way but once.
The bus rumbled down the street and stole away with Sam and Cabe in its cargo bay. The other kids cheered their loading as the wheels of ol' 455 red turned away down Kiltie Drive. Frank the busdriver is questionable...for he has a ponytail, yet he is a Methodist with an agenda. Is he one of those blokes wearing religion as a fox's clothing to prey on all the innocent lambs?
6-24-05 Another day on the river. I lived no more than 45 minutes from the Delaware all my young life and rarely had I availed myself its lovely and entertaining ways. Ian went fishing on the canal, stocked with trout. The kids and I went to the concrete quay and swam for a few hours, only after picnicing in the Lambertville park.
6-27-05 Happy birthday, Da. The old man would've been 74 today. I spoke with Ted earlier about the impeding rain for golf tomorrow. We never mentioned Dad. I mentioned his birthday to the kids. They suggested a celebration of sorts. Something along the lines of goodies and sweets for them. I guess the kids figure that sugar hangovers would somehow please their grandfather.
The cable guy didn't come to Sara's because no real appointment was made. Sam, Cabe and Iso met mommy's workmates, saw the hi-lo in action, picked up a Banano's bike, ate pizza in Sare's apartment, and reveled in every moment at the shrine known as Mom's Place.
7-5-05 Happy Birthday, America. I'm such a freak. To salve the hurt of Sam proclaiming Caleb was smart enough not to go with mommy to her apartment to wait for the cable guy I loaded she, Isobel and yours truly into the Windstar for a fun-filled Fourth in Parsippany, NJ. From 10:45 AM to 5:30 PM the four of us made due. Sara and I hung stuff on the walls, moved around some furniture, unclogged the bathtub drain, while Isobel pranced around digging into anything and everything and Sammy played on the computer. I felt like a Jew recently rescued from a concentration camp unboarding a ship on the shores of Israel.
It feels over more and more and the pain grows until it will eventually burst and dissipate into the cracks and crevices of what we once had.
My best moments:
The time Ian's small hand first searched, found and held mine.
When Sara's smile lit up my world for the first time that 1993 April day in MBE.
2:20 PM 1-19-95 Samantha Joy stubbornly surfed into the world, beached in her mommy's arms.
Caleb broke through the front line (thanks EPI-Man) for a touchdown out of mommy's end zone.
The first time I heard Isobel cry.
When that same crying stopped seven months later.
That Saturday spring afternoon when I hit a homerun at the age of fourteen. My dad was there.
Accompanying Sam to her all-star baseball games.
Seeing each of my kids bowl a strike.
Witnessing that marvelous moment when they rode a bike for their first times, untethered.
Caleb's first intentional go at a laugh. I was sad, February '98, and he made a funny face.
Isobel's first squeezy hug.
When Ian graduated from Harry Potter to Tolkien, and we dug deeper intellectually.
Every time I moved with Sara.
Every time I moved Sara.
Every time Sara.
7-14-05 Saturn has kicked my terrestrial ass these passed two-plus years. I'm ready for a little Jupiter at this point. Two more days to go apparently and I will be free of the convoluted rings. I chose Joy's house for my birthday. I can't exlplain myself sometimes. Caleb and Isobel enjoyed the beach tremendously. I have sat and counted infinite grains of sand with me mum beside me. I try not to begrudge our few times together because of the flagrant disregard she has given to those most important to her over the years. She's a bitchy saint. She is the most negative optimist I have ever known, the happiest sad person, the weakest giant, and the craziest fox. I attribute all of these attributes to her genes and experience. I hold her responsible for nothing but what she readily admits is of her own doing. Therefore, she is sin-free.
7-16-05 Goodbye Saturn. Time to move forward again. A weight rests always upon each of us. How great it is remains soley our own conclusion.
7-19-05 Fig broke through the solid wall of wah I had constructed after my 'world' came undone one hundred times ago. I have allowed Sara all too much influence over my self, like the moon over the ocean's tides. No more. Choices have been made and deeds done which my own self respect should not ignore. I have many friends who care about me and wish me no pain. Ironically, the one I portend to love the most, Sara Love, continually inflicts pain upon pain, the most that any person has ever throughout my life, and declares, "I never want to hurt you," yet I am the one she continues to hurt the most, over and over. There is no one left to blame for this but me: Tim. Enough and done and over and out
7-28-05 God spoke with me today through the personage of an angry Realtor. God does this sometimes. The burning bush is so passe and miracles are certainly showoffski. How better to communicate his message than through a salesman who does the opposite of selling. "Listen to this, asshole: Fuck you, and stick it up your fucking ass."
Initially, I was pissed and upset. Revenge needed to be wrought. I dropped a message to his broker, Roy, called my cousin, Mark, to let him know that one of his fellow Re/Maxians was a mental rogue, laughed out loud about it all, and realized that God, the Almighty, had actually given me a facial through the conduit of Cory Marks. "Fuck you, asshole. Come down to the office right now and I'll kick your fucking ass."
Translated into Godese, what was actually being said by Cory/God is, "Stay out of New Jersey! It is not where you can be. The children will wither and all will suffer. Give up, will ya, on the idea of moving to NJ?" Loud and clear. Thanks Cory Marks.
9-2-05
Crazy. I have moved my four kids to Rangeley, Maine, and we are all so much the better for it. Sara remains in parsippany, NJ. The karma concept is not lightly considered here. She plans on staying at her job for now, going to Germany for "Oktoberfest", since the tickets have already been bought, it sure would be a shame to waste it. She is all but out of my heart entirely. Such a sad waste. I could have moved on with her even after so much betrayal on both our parts but she persists. She's in love with another man. Oh well.
posted by Timothy at 5:38 AM
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