World's Language or speaking in your own native tongue

February 1st is the anniversary of the death of my oldest son, Jeff, who was 20 nearly 21 when a DRUNK TRUCK DRIVER crashed into his car head on at a traffic light instantly killing Jeff.

Each year since 1988 I have honored Jeff's memory on the date.  The past 8 or 9 years I have posted messages and photos and memories honoring Jeff and my second son Scott now a very loving, proud father of his own almost 2 year old son, Liam.

Many people click LIKE on this year's message that I posted yesterday

Also many others or some of the same posted very kind, loving, caring, supportive messages of condolences to me.

The Grief and Pain in 1988 was intense. My heart was broken.

I had permanently lost my son.

But Jeff lives on in my mind, heart and soul.

Yesterday I happened to drive by the last spot I last saw and was with Jeff
saying goodbye in the dark one morning when I dropped him off near the 
apartment building of his new classmate friend who with his parents
were kindly giving Jeff a ride back home to Boynton Beach.

He had convinced Merry and I that he had patched up with his mother
and she was openly welcoming him home after the few months
since she threw him out to come live with us.

Years later I learned that he hadn't.  He had lied so he could go home again.

Even though his "HOME" was not openly welcoming him back.

The rest of the story from November of 1982 until February 1st, 1988
I only know random bits and pieces that I have learned since.

The wonderful messages of love and support yesterday were great

but not necessarily deserving like the writers might have thought.

I went from being a loving dad who worked many hours
went to school at nights and weekends while my sons were 
growing up from birth to when their mother and I separated
and I left our house.  At that time I spent much of my time
when I wasn't working or taking classes with my sons as a

WEEKEND DAD

or DAD who tried to be a coach, scout leader, cartoon class teacher
so I could spend as much time with my sons as an OUT OF THE HOUSE DAD.

but during that time I discovered my NEXT PASSION
Creative Thinking.

In order to become the speaker/consultant/trainer of Creative Thinking
I was dreaming about I became an ABSENTEE-FATHER/DAD
who wrote letters and occasionally spoke to his sons by phone
or visited a few times from Georgia over 750 miles away

I really have not earned the type of respect that many of the people who
posted their loving, caring, supportive comments yesterday or
previous years.

As with too much of my life the past 40 years
what others imagine, think they know or have observed about me
is often

SMOKE & MIRRORS

but my love for my sons has always been strong.

My physical presence in their lives since August of 1979 has not been.

the following I wrote on my Facebook page as part of the thread of my message honoring Jeff's memory and Scott now but chose to not send it PUBLICLY but rather through this blog 
to save it and share it with the few people who reads this blog, whoever they are.

Thank you for your message I am not a religious person either. I continue to try to keep memories of those in my life who have passed or my life has separated us physically and no longer have regular contact.

From the time of Jeff's birth in 1967 until he was 12 years old

through our various moves in Detroit and move to Florida I tried to be as involved in his life as possible.

Then in 1979 I left and except for two short return trips to Florida I didn't see him for 3 years when he came to live with his step mother, step sister and I in Athens. That only lasted for a couple months before he chose to return to his home in Florida by riding with a new Polish student friend from his Athens High School and his parents by car around Thanksgiving.

many of the kind notes above give me too much credit.

I loved and love my sons but from 1979 my passion to become a creative thinking speaker and consultant overtook the family part of my life.

The last time I saw Jeff was in the prep room of the funeral home in Boynton Beach.

many people's lives are sprinkled to filled with a range of experiences, memories, emotions, attempts to be good to great parents, siblings. Some lives are filled with larger shares of pain and loss: accidental and self-caused.

That describes my life over the past 40 years from attempting to live a Father Know Best, Donna Reed, Leave to Beaver Idealist life as US TV shows in the 50s portrayed to the reality of the life I have created the last 40 years.

Thanks for reading this long LETTER that includes much of as Paul Harvey used to say

THE REST OF THE STORY

Alan

alan@cre8ng.com

http://www.cre8ng.com