Butterfly Lane

A road. Through the deep woods, near Maple farms, and a babbling brook. In the Catskill mountains of NY.

10 years ago, my daughter son and I, along with my (then) wife, would visit it. And for years before, every time we came to the lake and cabin.

It's real name is Peas Eddy Road, in Hancock, NY.

But it will always be Butterfly Lane to me.

For it was there, nets and jars in hand, we caught many gorgeous butterflies. We'd bring them back to the cabin. Look at them. I would sketch them. Then we would set them free.

Today, after all that has gone by. Divorce. Loss of family. Loss of so much.

I took my beautiful daughter, now 23, down that road once more.

And there were butterflies. Beautiful ones. And I captured them. This time, with my camera.

And a part of me healed. As I brought the past together with the present.

And my daughter looked out upon familiar ground, with new eyes.

And we enjoyed the beauty. The tranquility. The incredible views. Together again.

It's been a long 10 years. It's been beyond painful.

But today, I felt my heart fill up once more with the joy and promise I once had, those many years ago.

The world. Nature. The trees. The rolling brook. The clear blue skies, the warming sun.

God lives there. And he heals us through them.

The one abiding constant of this world is that nature is ever present. Alive and filled with the power and the beauty of all that Mother Nature can muster.

And if we are open to it. If we become one with it, it heals us as nothing else can.

Because we are all connected. The tiny butterfly. The beautiful but transient flower. The water that carves it's way through the rocks and mountains over thousands of years.

If we let ourselves become part of that once more, we find and feel in ourselves the wonders of creation and of the endless eons that have passed.

We are all nothing but stardust. Ever single living thing. Every rock, every leaf on a tree.

And when we find that connection, wounds heal, and the incredible power of the force of life fills us.

As it did, for me. Today.

The night wind.

At the lake. During the day sometimes, it can get really warm. Never blistering or oppressive, but sometimes hot and humid. Just like back in Jersey.

But at night...

The gentle cool breeze blows in through the windows...

Cooled by the ancient forest that surrounds me. The calm and cool water of the lake itself.

It's refreshing and rejuvenating.

As if the force of nature and life breathe a cooling soothing balm in me, for my soul.

These trees have seen generations of people and animals before me, and the current denizens of the wilds here.

And their shade and their leaves, and the cool, moist earth beneath them are always alive.

And the ages that have come before me lie under my feet as I walk on the forest floor.

And at night, when this world is silent.

That breeze...filled with the memories and observations of 1000 years.....feels as if Mother Nature herself wants to remind me.

That no matter what, there will be someone here to remember me. If only in the branches of these ancient pines. Or in the reflections of the water, that have been here eons before I was born. And will be here long after I leave.

Let's Stir The Pot. No, lets fucking obliterate it.

This is going to be a really tough one to read. So, if you are family or close and are afraid of what I may say, then back out now.

I have totally fucking had it with my life as it now stands.

For months now, I have been alternating between wallowing in self pity, and striking out with optimism for my photography, and my writing.

But the world. My world. Has come down to this.

I have to fight for my future.

And there will be casualties. But I am determined, and nobody, and nothing, will stand in my way. So help me, God.

I have stopped the descent into hell and into depression. And I have finally done what I need to do. What I have had to do, all these years, to survive.

I am fucking angry as hell. And I am not going to take it anymore.

I am not going to accept my situation as what I have to deal with. Or be patient. Or pray. Or get on my fucking knees and beg for some divine help.

I am going to act.

And that means I may have to be a bastard at times to some.

Nobody, and I mean NOBODY will control me or my future.

I have tremendous obstacles to overcome. And burdens to shed.

So expect some drastic changes coming from me.

I am going to look to move from where I am to another part of the country.

I am going to find work in a field that is rewarding and profitable enough to start over.

And it will be painful. And it will mean that things get sacrificed in order to do so.

But I am weary of being the man people feel sorry for, or people expect to be.

It's my life. It's now or never. I ain't gonna live forever.

So, get with me.

Or get the fuck out of my way.

Because if you don't, I will run you down.

Had. Enough.

You are either with me. Or you are my enemy.

Because if I do not do this now. I will not make it. And I refuse to die. And I refuse to go down without one hell of a fucking fight.

Bring. It. On.

The Lake

I am sitting at the kitchen table, in our family cabin at The Lake. We call it that because...well, because that is all we need to call it.

It's got a name. But it doesn't matter. It's just The Lake.

My mother served me many dinners and breakfasts at this very table. We sat and chatted on evenings just like this one, over a wonderful dinner of fresh corn on the cob, sliced tomatoes and cucumbers with olives (my mom believed in a REAL relish tray). Steaks searing on the grill outside, the smoke wafting in through the windows. The sun setting low in the sky, reflecting off the calming water outside this very window. The one I gaze out of at this very moment. Days just like today.

Gone forever. Except in my memory.

Bitter Sweet.

Those two words don't belong together. Connected. Because they aren't.

The first is how it feels now to have her gone. And never coming back. The second is only how we feel in our memories. And it brings on the former. We feel hurt for what we have lost.

And I have lost so very much.

I love it here. The good memories outweigh the fact that there are so many days lost forever. And the future that I have laid out before me...well, it just feels so much better being HERE for it. Than being anywhere else.

I had a house of my own. I had gardens and gorgeous furnishings. I had a wife. I had a family together under one roof.

I had a mom and dad, both alive and both able to be with me.

I had a job. A career. A good job.

I had hopes and I had dreams.

I watched them all die.

I have tried mightily to forge a new life. And taken so many hits.

I've talked about that here at length, and I don't want to trod over already well worn paths, but I cannot help it.

In recent days I declared my affections for a woman I have known for a year.

A woman who may never be able to join me here at The Lake. For circumstances make it impossible now for us to even be together alone. Let alone, be together miles from home, here at the place I so dearly love.

So while I see such good in this world and such beauty. While I continue to hope and pray. I find myself left wanting and yearning.

As it seems I will always be.

I am enjoying this time up here with my daughter. Such an incredible, gorgeous, intelligent, and amazing young woman. More talent and ability than most could ever dream of, lives inside of her. I am beyond proud. She is all that any man could ever want.

And I as her father, while keeping at arms length to not interfere with her life as a young adult, wants to defend her and protect her, if I can.

It is wonderful to be back here at The Lake with her. The last time she was here, she was 13. With me and my parents and her brother.

She is now 23.

10 Years.

It is the watermark of when my life began it's descent into hell. And I have tried with all I have since then, to climb out and see a piece of heaven.

But as I sit here now looking at the golden sun reflecting on the still water in front of me....

I see and feel the losses and the years.

My mom is gone.

My marriage is gone.

My home, my career, my finances, my life as I knew it.

Is so far gone.

So many things of late have given me hope.

My photography is going well. My writing is going well. But there is still no money. No income. And my ex needs her alimony, every month. And my pension when it comes due in 3 years.

What I see as I sit here and enjoy this incredible scene is overwhelming in it's magnitude.

I see the past and all that I loved. I see my mother and growing up here. Where I have been able to go since my parents held me in their arms as a baby.

Fifty Two years later, I sit at this table on a computer, connected to the internet, typing these words.

And I wonder.

And I wish.

And I hope.

And I dream.

Of times gone by. With smiles and laughter and good food. With family and friends.

And I try with all my might.

To believe.

Taking the chance.

In my life, I have opted for the long shot.

I have met with rejection after rejection in applying for jobs in my field of expertise.

So, I dedicated myself to nature photography. What I love. What I am good at.
And I work hard to make it a reality.

But what I want in my life, is for someone to take that kind of chance on me.

To go all-in.

To risk it all to win.

With me as their partner.

And here I sit, and wait, and wonder.

Will there ever be a woman so inclined?

Will she decide that I am worth the risk?

I can only hope.

But it takes tremendous strength and hope to make that kind of leap.

I realize that.

I have the advantage. I have already lost it all in my life.

So, I don't fear what may come, because there is nothing worse that anyone can do to me.

I anxiously await a person who is willing to do the same.

And to join me.

For what a life it would be.

Risking it all to win. Together.

To dream.

What I want you to see.

In my work.

I want, more than anything...

For you to see life.

To see these creatures which have breathed new life into me...alive.

I want to convey them living and breathing and hunting.

Mating and courting.

Living their lives, and at times, even showing us thing we arrogantly assume that only we and a few primates are capable of.

Love and affection.

Devotion.

And playing, just for fun.

Birds have been here on this earth for more than 60 times longer than we have.

For us to believe that they are primitive or incapable of things we assign only to ourselves is arrogance of the worst kind.

If I accomplish anything in this life.

I want you to see.

I want you to feel.

I want you to believe and to get out there yourselves and marvel at these amazing creatures.

And connect with them.

There is much they can teach us.

Never Ending Pain

Yesterday, my daughter and I talked for a bit on the ride home.

The ride home from her therapist.

She is 23. Beautiful. Intelligent. Witty. Artistic. Just an amazing young woman.

But the conversation turned to something which just ripped my heart out.

She told me, finally, that that the counselor she is seeing is a woman who deals with childhood sexual abuse.

Now, I know (now) about the rampant and pervasive incest in my ex-wife's family. I found out way too late about all of it.

But to make a very long story short, she (my daughter) had questions for me. About that family, about the people involved, what I knew.

So I told her.

And I had to sit in that car and listen to my little girl tell me of the weird dreams and memories she has. And of some very specific memories she has of some former in-law family members.

From when she was all of fucking 5 years old.

You have no idea how much I hate the fucking world right now.

How I wish to god I could dig them up just so I could kill them.

And some still live. Protecting their "secret". Their fucked up, warped, and dysfunctional existence, based on incest.

And I sat there for all those years oblivious to it all.

For me, the word in my life now has been "powerless".

I could not nothing then, because I knew nothing. I couldn't see.

And I failed.

I could not protect my children.

I could not protect myself.

For all that I have suffered. For all the losses I have absorbed.

Nothing on this Earth can heal the wounds of not being able to stop hell. To be able to do what I needed to, in order to save my children. And myself.

I sit here now screaming at God and the fates and trying to make sense of it all.

Trying with all I have to find the good. To persevere. To fight the good fight.

I have never felt more like Rocky Balboa.

A shot at the title. If I could only beat the champ.

I have the heart.

I have the strength.

I can win.

But it's too late.

I can only survive the onslaught.

And I watch and I see. Pain. Suffering. Loss.

Not just in me. But in the lives of those I hold more dear than even my own.

And it kills me.