Talking to god and my Father.

So, yeah, I haven't been on here for quite sometime (bad blogger, no cookie, and to be honest I wanted to blog, but, either nothing happened , or I didn't want to talk about it on my blog. I realize that the intent of this blog was to do just that, but, sue me, I didn't feel like it.

I am sure some of you will note the interesting use of capitalization in the title of my blog. Trust me, I did that on purpose, I normally have a reason for the things that I do, I just don't always remember them. But, this one I do, since I just did it, that helps.  So anyway, as most of my friends know, I have weight issues, and those issues are enough some days that I don't always feel like displaying the fact that I am trying combat those dreaded extra pounds, so I go walking at some ungodly time in the early morning when no one is around. normally around 3am. plus it is cooler at this time. but anyway, When I walk, I talk. I talk about my evil plans that I have for my ongoing Dungeon and Dragons game, I talk to myself to psych myself up for the rest of the week, sometimes the conversation goes towards a personal pity party, and sometimes, I talk to god. 

Note the "g" on god. I have it lower cased for a reason, and I will get to that, but first let me say that I have come to realize that I still believe in god, it is just that the 12 year old me is still a little pissed at him, but more on that later. (I know, I lots of trains in the train yard, trust me they will all get to a destination without derailing, just hush up and hold on) So, I still believe in god, Little "g" I give god the little "g" because people fight over the big "G", really? this is something that we should be fighting over? Hasn't there been enough words said in anger over the big "G", enough bloodshed over it as well. Do we still have to argue over what it says in a book that was written by men, and according to those people, that is the word of the big "G". I feel that in this day and age that "G" has been turned into and instrument as a way to divide us up and tell other groups of people why my group, is better than their group. See, little "g" doesn't believe that way, "g" is all inclusive, we all are accepted and all get to eat the icing flower off of the cake, because the cake is covered in nothing but icing flowers. Little "g" looks down at what he/she created and shakes her/his head, because it really doesn't matter how we worship him/her, as long as we do. It doesn't matter what race, sex, status, sexuality is, as long as we treat our fellow man with respect and help each other when we need it. Little "g" is tired of being a topic of debate as to why we should do something, or shouldn't do something. "g" wants everyone to be at peace and happy with each other, and we just don't get it yet. 

So, anyway, walking around my neighborhood, talking to "g", I don't always have these conversations, but, when I do, it is about the important stuff. The important stuff was the fact that it has almost been a year since I was working, and that it has to cease. I need to be able to help my situation out and I need to be able to have a starting point to go from. While walking around talking to "g" I realized that I still believed, it was just that I was still stuck as a twelve year old, when the circumstances were not in my favor and I lost my father. Losing a parent is rough at any age, but, losing the one that is supposed to teach you how to be a man, is rough on a young man. And, I for a long time have blamed god. It isn't fair to blame him, but, I look around at how things worked out in my life, now, they aren't bad, but, they are not great either, and you know, it is only human to post blame on someone, and I was twelve, so I blamed him. But, when I walk, like I said, I talk, and I was talking to god, wondering how I am going to get out of this current situation, and I started to think about my dad. How would my life be different if my dad was still around, would my life be drastically different? Hell, I would keep my life the same, if just my dad was here in it, becuase I wanted to know, Is my dad proud of me? And that was the start of something.

"Is he proud to have a gay son?" I asked, " Is he proud that his son does theatre, has no problem dressing in woman's clothes if the role requires it?" I hate to say that I was having a pity party, but, i kinda was. When you don't have something that you really need, and you had it at one point in your life, you unfortunately wonder what it would be like, or you have "what if" questions. And these questions kept coming out, one after the other, each one a question that hangs out in the back of my mind and waits until I am vulnerable and then attacks. Tears are streaming down my cheeks while I am walking, this is also why I walk so damn early in the morning, If I am in one of these moods, I can cry, and not have people see. 

So, I am walking around, tears streaming down my cheeks, making the shirt that I am wearing become damp, I am so cold at this point, it is three A.M. that I have goosebumps all up and down my arms. I am about to round a corner on my normal walk path, and I utter the words"Is he proud to have a gay son?  " Is he proud that his son does theatre, has no problem dressing in woman's clothes if the role requires it?" I no more utter these words, and I walk into a warm mass of air. and I mean warm. The first words that I utter after walking into the mass is "Hi Dad."

I know what you may be thinking, but, don't you know people by how they feel, how the smell, by just how you feel when you are near them? This is what happened. I knew from the moment I stepped into that warm mass of air, it was my dad. Now, when I say warm mass of air, I mean it. I walked into the warmth and the goosebumps slowly started to go away, I wasn't cold anymore. I felt calm, and warm, and comforted. I continued my walk talking to my dad, and feeling the answers to my questions. And, as you might have guessed they were positive, I don't think I would have written this if it wasn't. But, I continued the semi-one sided conversation on my way back to my home. 

I hate to say it, but, I tend to stick to the same route and this route goes by a church, well, as I walked by this church that I normally go by, I happened to look into the glass door into the building, and staring back at me in the reflection of the glass was me going by, but, also the body of an older man wearing a flannel shirt and jeans. Something that my dad wore to keep warm. And, Though I didn't see his face, I knew it was my father. I guess those who have gone before us never truly leave us. Have a good day people. god bless you.