One Way or Another

I hadn't told my now-grown children about my relationship with R***** or about G****'s birth, not because I considered it a shameful matter but because I wanted to respect R*****'s privacy and because I thought explaining the matter might prove...complicated. Basically, I didn't want to get into it, and I didn't see any pressing reason to do it.

Now that Kathe and I are apparently parting ways, there is indeed a pressing reason.

The other day, one of my daughters called me from Texas and asked casually how we were doing. I felt I had little choice but to tell her all of it. I was sorry to dump it all on her that was, but there was, after all, a lot to tell, so I did.

I was encouraged by the fact that her first response to the information dump was to tell me that my first priority needed to be to be a good Daddy to Gideon. That is the response I would have wanted to hear from her, and I agree.

I also asked her to call her sister in Portland and ask her to call me. Instead, she called her sister and, without explaining why, urged her to visit Kathe, and she is in town now, and I'm very glad of that.

So, the girls know the story now, and the boys know most of it. Soon enough, everyone will know the whole story, and soon after they will all be sick of it, because while some of the story does not reflect well on me, I am not in the least ashamed of knowing R*****. Or G****.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Knowing what you should be ashamed of is half of a moral education."\\

UPDATE: At R*****'s request, I have deleted her name and our child's, since we will not be living together after all.

My Father is Very Sick

At Good Samaritan getting IV antibiotics for a resistant bladder infection, which turned into three antibiotics for a bladder and kidney infection, which is now, I think, three different and stronger antibiotics for an infection of his kidneys, heart and possibly other structures.

Dad has been plagued for months by a series of highly-resistant infections. They keep piling on new antibiotics, but meanwhile the bugs keep getting more resistant.

If you would like to do something in honor of the suffering of my father and others like him, please go right now and wash your hands.

I'm serious. Wash your hands now. Wash your hands several times a day, with soap and hot water, taking as long as it takes to sing one verse of your favorite song.

And not with antibacterial soap, either. Casual use of antibacterial substances is part of the problem.

Wash your hands, people. Wash surfaces that people touch frequently (like computer keyboards). Wash them, and wash them again when needed.

I am not being the least bit blasphemous or facetious when I implore you earnestly to for God's sake wash your hands.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "When was the last time you washed me, John?"\\

After the End of the Story

I have at last seen the e-mail headed "The End of the Story", and have also learned a couple of significant facts.

One is that the e-mail wasn't actually as bad as I had imagined. Quite reasonable under the circumstances, actually. Another is that Kathe did, in fact, send me a copy, and when she heard that I had complained of not getting it, she sent it again.

Finally, Kathe didn't actually send the e-mail to everyone on Earth, but only to those with whom she had excvhanged e-mails in the past. This last was a comfort to hear, because just before Kathe sent out the e-mail she asked me to provide her with a copy of my own Friends list on Hotmail.

The End of the Story

If you are someone who knows me personally, you have probably already seen an e-mail which Kathe apparently sent out to everyone she could reach who knew me. I haven't seen it myself yet, because Kathe didn't include me among the recipients and because those who have seen it have all sent me comments like, "I deleted it and put her on my Blocked Sender list" or "There was nothing in it you would benefit from seeing".

That last comment is probably right. Still, I'm only human, and I do wonder what was in it. So to anyone who has received an e-mail from Kathe titled "The End of the Story", I invite you to forward it to me, with or without your own comments.

And to Kathe I will say, I would never have done to you what you have now done to yourself.

And by the way: one day I hope you will be willing to hear me say what I say right now: I love you.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Life Goes On."\\