Kevin is king

middle-age American living in New Jersey near the Lincoln Tunnel «« Dear Erica: Reading your question was awesome for me. I have this event I feel was pivotal in my relationship with family, and my relationship with family is interesting enough to keep the attention of others including you. This event was left for me to reconcile 100% in solitude with no one ever saying, ¿Huh? Your reply was more articulate than, “huh”, and gave me more to go on — grazie. It’s not what I said, but rather that I said anything. In addition to keeping me at bay during three days of deathbed vigil there was significant effort to keep me away entirely, and above all be sure I did not get the floor. The function of my family is queened by Ellen, the first born to my parents Bill and Martha. We were heavily focused on the Dad’s side of our family, so his sister’s: Marylou and Helen parented fourteen in a nearly balanced trio of families. All fourteen of us are living today, and Kevin was the first born followed soon after by Laurie, so Helene and Marylou became mothers a half decade before their kid brother, my dad, Bill became a father. The Marylou family was a California family, and Helene and Bill raise the rest of us very near their childhood home. All this family history is relevant, because I think I always knew what nobody talks about and nobody seems to know except on occasion like my late son’s, David’s, final ceremonies including my post-graveside speech. That is: Kevin is boss. Unquestioned every year, every birthday I always knew it. Everyone bowed to Kevin’s support of me to have the floor and everyone except Kevin was in opposition. Why I was excluded from the deathbed vigil and why it was nearly unanimous that I not get the mic is a mystery that will outlive me. At that point of my life I had my first failed marriage, my food science career crashed, and I was married the second time to Hana who I’m married to today. Hana is with me at this moment, and she does not know the content of this text. As you might guess me tapping away is not an event that is attention worthy. The life events I had accumulated by David’s death were overlooked by my sisters and my brother, and the fact that they tried to keep me away and couldn’t, and tried to keep me from the mic and couldn’t was something unimaginable for their kid brother. I had grown up while they weren’t looking, and I no longer coveted their approval. On the occasion of David’s death and prior to my speech three men had private conversations with me, and they were: Luke, Jim, and Denny. Each of these three men chose to severe their relationship with me when I split with my first wife, and in my speech I thanked them for their sensitivity, and I asked for this pattern to continue. Time has shown I got the opposite like Senator Obama’s DNC 2004 speech. He asked for unity, and he got division; I asked for access to men who were surviving community members of David, and I got the opposite. I was able to recover gracefully putting me here right now comfortably tapping away at my story as if I’m writing someone else’s story. ¿How did I do this? Many things including the most relevant is how I leveraged something I always knew to be true: Kevin was king. Petty bitterness might reveal itself as a force to crush me, but an appeal to the family’s top authority would find compassion, which is what I did and what I found. ¿What did I say? I don’t know ¿Was John correct? yes. »» about me 302-990-2346 nearlincoln@hotmail.com contact us

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About Tom Doody

middle-age American living in New Jersey near the Lincoln Tunnel
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