No Body Comes Out Alive

A hot and steamy winter night, fireworks roaring and trying to reach the Ozone! People gathering the streets for the final countdown to a year of resolutions, regrets, affirmations, and anniversaries. Yet this year about to be 1973 was sure to be the cat's meow. Drinks are being slammed, bottles of champagne are popping and corks are flying! The smell of weed is lingering, calling the hippies naked to the floor flying high listening to Jim Morrison..."There are things known and there are things unknown and in between are the doors"!

The things that were known is that she was just a teen with a baby, she was still a child lost and raising her 5 other sibiling beneath her. Living in hand-me-downs from town families or Ma making homemade clothes and still married to her daughter's father. And you come along being 14 yrs older than her and her childhood life is completely robbed for sure.

You promised her hand in marriage, but all you did was give her another baby. Wasn't being a b*****d to 2 other of your children before me not enough for you to learn the laws of gravity. I'm not sure if you ever did learn what unconditional love was or what truly was a gift from your God to procreate his life of not a vicarious ways. Regardless of the time, may it be long or short. You left a life that only you had total control over. To do as you see fit, to love it, nuture it, give it your unconditional self and instead you deemed your losses and created life in disarrayed bifocals for all 4 of your children to not prospure in love, faith, and forgiveness. Fathering of 3 and Dadding of 1 doesn't make you the MVP on Father's day.

These are the memories that come to me as I stand on 37. My heart bleeding in tears of the sound of aircrafts hovering over my newly founded suburben home (with my mom and new DAD)at the tender age of seven and hopefully heading to land in the Rochester International Airport and patiently waiting for a silent knock on the door. Hoping it was you all along, with your reasonings of why you haven't called or sent me birthday cards. Listening to my spirituality inside praying one day that I would make it on T.V. as a SUPERSTAR in hopes to gain your undying love. Hence I would be famous and you would see me and come to me since you were poorly living with painted christmans trees to your walls. Keeping my soul open for your love and re-admission to my heart.

Mother was so good to have sent you a 5x7 school picture each year to show you how I was growing. She left me with hope and security that you DID love me and that you would see me soon enough. She would say to me, "Sha, no matter what he is your daddy and loves you very much, and when he was with you, he took very good care of you and Randy Lynn even though he was not her father!" I believed her for many years and tried to convince myself that she was true to her words and that you were that MAN.

By the time my eleventh year came around my Grandma (Bio's Mother) decided to take me to the SUNSHINE State of Florida to meet you! Oh, how those eleven years took FOREVER and I was so gracious, excited, couldn't wait to tell you everything about me. Who my favorite cartoon hero was, my favorite color, favorite toy, my friends, meet my baby sister you had with your new wife, and give you a great big hug and kiss. And most of all tell you how much I missed you and wish you could come back to NY so I could see you ALL all the time. Though I shared 1 week for 3 years with you in a manner of going to Walt Disney World, Cypress Gardens, Bush Gardens, and having real made Soda from the south, doesn't even come close to what exactly I NEEDED from you. Or who I needed to learn you were. Twenty-one days is not enough time to make up a lifetime nor a sincere apology of hypocracy to your name.

Granted I was not the miracle child or a child that you could handle in my sweet young teens. Hell I was batteling a life you were just learning, from being molested for 8 years from my Aunts husband, and trickling my self-esteem so low to open my legs for any boys attention, smoking cigerettes and pot and drinking liqour were my new pain meds to stitch my open wounds from bleeding to the corruption of what we call our foes.

But the moments never felt quite solid between you and I. It was as if your life was missing a spine to speak and feel for yourself. As if you needed a woman to approve who you were inside. You couldn't even really think of how to think when my questioning years came to be. All I heard was blah blah blah....not because I didn't want to hear or I was too young to understand, but merely I believe I had seen life in a different manner and woke up to understanding that I was not the problem that occured in life. Hence, at the beautiful age of I believe 14 or 15 you came to my house and your words could NOT have been any CLEARER that day.....standing in the driveway of 845 Fl*&^ Rd. you looked to my step-dad (DAD) and said...." Tom, I don't know what to do, I WASH MY HANDS OF HER". Oh REALLY, you wash your hands of me. I'm sorry you made this tainted blood that you never raised. How DARE YOU insult me so cowardly, and GIVE UP....what were you really giving up.......???? Something that you never started to love, or were you starting to hurt with the PAIN that I was feeling as a child. So you decided to CUT YOUR LOSSES and WALK AWAY from it before you have to ADMIT your MISTAKES and FEEL the TRUE PAIN YOU CAUSED ON YOUR OWN CHILD. By the way, unfortunately I have learned that trait of yours to well. I was merely an unappreciation of a gift you once had and you never knew how to unconditionally love and appreciate what was given to you.

I'm now seventeen and inside my veins they are boiling, heating up and wanting to explode like a volcano of pure redness and burnt ash. I'm trying to live with your final words to my Dad and me. I'm furious and enraged with deciet, hurt to belong to your so called blood and kin. What kind of family raises a man to be so shallow. Maybe my mother wasn't who you loved or longed to be with, ok....I GET THAT! You don't have to be together to raise your children, you can do that it many different ways. And believe me, the soda pop and potatoe chips you were feeding my baby sister causing her to be an overweight child with depression eating issues, could have been spent on a lickable stamp and a post card or birthday card or hell even a FREE collect call to 585-225-****  and allowing her to have something she's been longing for....(a sister).....yet that sister still wasn't me. Because you see, you taught her to love Randy Lynn as her truest sister. You know the one that died at 3 while I was 2 fighting for her innocent life with cancer. The child that can't be here today with me and my mommy. She's the child that you ALWAYS acknowledged over me while on my Florida trips to see you. You're a funny old man with a very quarky sense of humor. But all in all, I mean hell it was your mother who took me to Florida to see you for the first time since I was a baby. So the legacy of the address and phone number NEVER changed.... you oxi-moron.

Let's not forget the time that I called you on MY 16th birthday!!! Do you remember that? You do don't you......??? Cuz this is how our conversation went.

"Dad, hey how are you?"

"Good, how are you Shawn"!

"So whatcha up to dad?"

"Nothing much. Whatcha doing"?

"Oh, just having a party! I have some friends over!"

"That's nice well have fun".

"Okay, well is there anything else you wanted to say dad before I let you go?"

"NO...."

waiting paitiently without any tremmors in my tone to show I was crying and choking up, I then replied, "Alright, Well Happy Birthday to me then, I'm a Sweet 16 today!!!" CLICK!!

You never called back to apologize for not saying happy birthday to me. I won't ever forget that fond memory, and you all expected me to not be a victim of a contious pathological liar and deadbeat father who tells my baby sister that he loves me all the time and that regardless of his and my relationship that no matter what we are sisters and should remain that way. How can you teach such an irony old man. She should be preaching that to you, non the less that's what a wiser person would tell you.

But Oh, I'm sorry, my older brother Robby is in town. Yes, by all means it's another one of your children that had nothing to do with you by choice or not of choice for many years until he decided in his heart to overcome his years of silence from you as well. How GREAT thy are now. So I agree to spend time with you all once again to meet my brother that I had heard so much about from my mom, aunt, and grandparents on my (mom's) side.

I believe that was the year that I stood up and had confrontations with you that were deliberated like a murder case on CNN. I tried so hard to believe that your "nervous" condition caused by using a Jackhammer your whole life as a construction worker was credible enough to explain why you hadn't wrote me, sent me cards or ever called. Days go by, and I keep thinking......is this really an acceptable condition, an acceptable reason, or just another excuse. It didn't make sense to me at all. If your hands were'nt working properly, but you had a voice and you had my sister and your wife to dial a call or sign your name on the bottom line for you. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, riddle me this Batman. Four other hands working in your house and I got Nada Zip s**t from you. Oh, I won't forget the time that you all sent me ONE birthday gift of army stuff that I NEVER wore after the 2nd time I visited you all in Florida. Interesting you didn't know me at all. I was a headbanging pot head cheerleader, not a vigilanty.

I proceeded for years on and off to try and understand you my dear old man, I tried like hell to understand. Sleepless nights, headaches, lies, and my dealing with my life as a troubled child I was until I had my oldest son at 21. God, I even tried my damndest to allow you to be a Grandfather to my child/ren. I couldn't even bare to watch you be phony with them. Even when I introduced you to them, you still didn't keep in contact like YOU should have. I played my part and gave you our number, address, and all that jazz. Now it was up to you with how often you wanted to contact us or be part of our life. As little as i heard you to tell me that you loved me it was TRULY to hard to believe when you did. Sparadically, I would visit you and the family from a far and of distance.

And back to wondering about my mom and you.....I've always wanted to know.....What did you want with a teen who was already married and vulnerable? What could you have possibly have seen in this teen?. Was the hot young p***y that good for the challenge/lies/deciet/toyed with or did your old a*s need to feel young again becuase your two other childrens mother's weren't good enough for your sorry pedifiling a*s. My mom was batteling with a child with terminal cancer again NOT YOURS (Randy Lynn) and you prolly used her as a dick warmer like the past woman in your life. I don't believe you ever loved my mom, I don't have the answere's either and sometimes.....I wish I did. I am wondering though...has anyone found my other older sister (Starr Allen), she should be in her 50's and out there somewhere or maybe she is the one who is truely predeceased to you.

I can only speculate that a "MAN" of 33 had NO PLACE to be with a 19 yr old "young girl". Some of my other questions in life I had for you, but you are not here anymore to hear them are........When did the world turn, that it is the child's responsibility to run to the absent parent that left them no matter how old they get? And, my next thought or question is.....How can you unconditionally love someone that has never unconditionally loved you? I mean don't we teach our children (the ones that live with us) unconditional love day in or out? You knew everything there was to know about your baby girl. Only, becuase you more than likely found a woman that put you in your place, but also brought you disconnection with your others. Again, I don't have these answere's and even if I did. I'm not sure where I would place them in my heart. I can't say of this what is true or untrue my readers. I can only desribe my valid feelings that have walked my veil with poker smiles.

Now I'm written from your hardware, your legacy and damned to have been your child after all. And with this evidence posted in (see attached pic), you raised even more to be of fool to your demise. There are pages of my life that are not written from pen to paper, not because I chose them to be missing, but because the battle is so drug out that there is NOTHING to fix. I'm not asking for any of your simply hence the words are "played like a piano", and wise man once said to, "leave her where the guitars play"! And if you can fathome this intelligence, than may you hear this poem when you sleep, may you answer your demons and saints at your crossroads of spitefullness and may you meet me with unconditional love, as your sister or daughter one day that you barely ever new!!! My condolences to my father, you are an invisible man, who has left a f*****g MESS amongst your blood. I don't blame you for your Obituary for a dead man can't write it, but again the PROOF is that your wife and youngest daughter could and did write for you!! You should be so proud, and I will die in HONOR knowing NOTHING!!!

~It was the greatest night of my

life

Although I still had not found a wife

I had my friends right there

beside me

Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding

Ghosts crown the

young child's fragile eggshell mind

We scaled the wall

We tripped thru the

graveyard

Ancient shapes were all around us

No music but the wet grass

felt fresh beside the fog

Two made love in a silent spot

one chased a

rabbit into the dark

A girl got drunk & made the dead

And I gave empty

sermons to my head

Cemetery cool & quiet

Hate to leave

your sacred

lay

Dread the milky coming of the day~ Jim Morrison

*** PIC is an Obituary that I not postin***