Mr. Bill and Miz Mona

Monday, September 5, 2011

Moose Pass Journal/Thoughts/9-5-2011

Bill Says: I guess you could add this to my wife's post concerning my mother and the pain and down right exhaustion of watching her die ever so slowly. In my lifetime, which involved losing my father, an earlier wife in the war, my brother and too many fellow soldier friends in the war, I have seen my fare share of death. I experienced even more in my years as a cop. But in this case, watching my mother slowly dwindle away, pound by pound, over a period of months has really and gradually just zapped the life out of me. The depression of impending death hangs over the house like a fog. Yet, it has also given me a time to think so-called deep thoughts, while I hold her hand and play solitary on the computer, concerning the relationship between parents and kids. But I wish to begin with saying how fortunate I am to have a beautiful and loving wife, who is capable of great giving, who has offered up some 21-years by taking care of my mom. I think of her sister Sally, who has done much the same thing over the years for her mother-in-law. These ladies came from good stock and I hope my children will learn from this experience.

Most of this is simply my putting my thoughts onto this record and I sincerely hope I do not bore the reader too badly with my wanderings. I will return to my books in the next blog.

My dad, who was often thought of as my hero, next to John Wayne, suddenly left our home in California when I was 9 years old. My older brother and I never saw my parents fight and later, my mom wished she had forgiven my dad for an affair. But she ordered him out and sought a divorce and then she was alone for the next 20-years. He moved far away to Arizona and eventually met and married my mother # 2- Bea.

In those early years I saw him two weeks out of the summer and the occasional Christmas. He rarely called, and seldom wrote, both of which were hard for him. Yet I always knew he was there. He was prompt with child support payments and paid for my braces. Later, as a teenager I was able to spend whole summers with him and we had great adventures across the Arizona desert.

But when I graduated from high school and he wasn't there, I was really hurt. He never saw me wrestle, play football or toss a 12 lb shot-put through the air. He wasn't there for the varsity letter ceremonies or when I simply needed advice about girls. My mom did it all. She was at every game, every wrestling match and often came to weekend practices to gauge my distances with that hefty lead ball. We had a very special friendship. My siblings, who were older, were all gone by the time I entered high school, so it was just the two of us.

After high school, my dad and I grew apart and we often fought over the phone or through the occasional letter. He rarely liked the women I chose to marry; Mary, when I was 18yrs old and she was 16- who Dear John'd me in Viet Nam.... maybe he was right about her. Then there was Nancy, who gave birth to John and Micheal. Oh, he loved the kids and was over joyed that we arranged it somehow to have John born on my Dad's birthday.

When I became a Christian, Dad and I reconciled and I was baptized in front of him in his boss's jacuzzi. He came to love Mona, because she stood up to his brashness and foolishness. And he loved Elizabeth, James, Joshua and Micah Sue very much. He was a much better grandfather than a dad.

When he died in 1990 and I stood over his coffin, I was in anguish over the the months and years we wasted in fighting. We were so much alike- too stubborn and unable to compromise. As a result, we wasted so much time apart. I was to later learn he had died with a major lie in his thoughts concerning me and which made him think poorly of me and this again, hurt.

Nancy, upon our break-up, had gone to live with my Dad and Bea- his wife and my friend, along with the two boys. They paid for Nancy to go to beauty school for a year and took care of the boys this whole time. I never knew of this and he thought I had simply abandoned them. Had I known, the boys would've joined us in Alaska and life would've taken a different turn for both of them. But he never approached me by phone or letter to discuss this. Now I know he's in Heaven and knows the truth, but it was rough on Mona and I in learning of this lie and how hurt he and Bea were in thinking so poorly of me.

So, I was raised without a dad and I told myself I would do better with my kids, yet I ended up doing much the very same thing to John and Micheal. Then came along our other four kids and I swore I'd again do better. That I would try to be there for them and I guess I failed pretty badly because of work, church and helped other youth through our church youth group. I was a cop and I put a lot of time into it while the kids grew. I missed some games and pushed one son into a sport he did not want to do, but tried to honor his father by joining in. There were apparently times when they needed to be protected and I wasn't there, but only learned of it years later. The times they needed to talk with me about serious things and I wasn't there, learning of this too years later .

Of late I have seen some of the results in how injured, hurt and silent my children have become toward us. I can only hope they will forgive me or us, and learn from the mistakes we made. I hope they are capable of doing better then their parents. One of my children is silent, as I was and another is angry, as I was. So many blood traits can be passed along. Yet some of the children have forged ahead and do well and I pray they all will.

I am immensely proud of my children and what they have accomplished. I am proud of the kids who have come into our lives by situation and choices. We may not always agree with the decisions they all make, but they are all now adults and some with children to raise.

I look back through my dad's life. His father deserted him at an early age and he tried hard not to repeat it. A blood curse has followed the Casselman's first born son for at least 4 generations I know of and now down through my oldest son, John. I can only pray that God breaks this curse and Tariq will not be another father to pass it along. I wish I could learn of how it came about, but I do know my Great-Great Grandfather was murdered on a train in Canada and the family fled to the USA. This curse may be involved. I do not know, but I pray against it.

I desire all my sons and daughters stand proudly, to be strong Christians and charitable to their fellow man. I also pray for them to be loyal and giving spouses and parents, who listen to their kids and are there to support them.  I wish this for all of you. God Bless!

2 comments:

  1. As always, Dad, I love your frankness and ability to share.

    You are my hero.

    Oh, and we're totally putting you and mom in a home. There is very little chance that Becca and I could do what you and mom are doing. Plus, we might have our hands full with my mother-in-law. Just thought you should know.

    :-)

    James

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  2. oh Bill, You are so good at expressing yourself. Wow..So much understanding and insight.
    We do not get children with much of a manual on How to. So we just do our best and hope God will make up for our lack.
    I Agree with you about you wife, my little sister Mona. She has been a rock of patient service and a soft place to rest. I am very proud of who she has become and who she is. She has co-operated well with the Lord and the Holy Spirit.
    Your children are blessed to have the two of you for their parents.
    Love you
    Sally

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