Where I’m Going, No One Knows

Oh we’ve seemingly been down this road before…

But I promise, this time it’s only temporary.  I just don’t know how temporary.  I have to stop writing.  I need all the time I can get to focus on my recovery.  You may notice that I deleted a bunch of posts as well.  Through the help of some people I love very much I have come to realize that I am unsure of what I have posted since the moment I came out of surgery.  I really believe the painkillers are a God-send; but I also believe that I shouldn’t be allowed near a computer while I’m taking them.  It’s just one of many reasons why I just deleted my Facebook account.

Don't let up on the prayers, please!

Don’t let up on the prayers, please!

Man, do I need prayers right now…  I sincerely hope that the few of you who read this (and I’m not trying to be cute now, just realistic) will write my name down somewhere, maybe stick it on your fridge.  Each time you pass by, ask the Virgin Mary to carry me to her Son.  In more ways than one tonight I am unsure of my future.  I need to leave it at that.  God, this sounds so dramatic but it’s not really.  What I do know is that over the past month (and I am sure throughout my lifetime) I have alienated people I thought of as friends and I have been too open about my life.  On the first charge, well, that’s just my personality. What can I say?  Looking back I think I’ve always done that.  On the second charge…  I have a right to be as open as I want about my life.  But my life is not my own anymore.  I always wanted my kids to have a story of their childhood.  They’ve got that by now.  I always fancied myself a humor writer.  I suppose I can be funny at times.  I have a desire and a prayer to be a good husband and father — not the best, mind you, since I don’t think that’s possible — but I realize that I need to follow my own advice.  A week ago I wrote about St. Joseph, the husband of the Virgin Mary.  My thesis was that I need to be like St. Joseph — to provide for and protect my wife and children and to keep my mouth shut the whole time.

It’s Lent.  I want to show my penitence.  I’m going to apologize for a few things now.

  • for my self-serving writing, looking for praise instead of remembering my goal of sharing with my kids and ABOVE ALL my ultimate goal of glorifying God in everything I write.  Boy that hasn’t been happening much…
  • for those times when I tried to be honest and it just came across as attention-seeking
  • for all the Christina Aguilera jokes (I just felt a twinge of guilt)
  • for anything I may have written about ANYONE in the past month that was untoward.
  • most especially for any impression I may have given about my beautiful wife — the love of my life, mother of my children, and most special woman in the world to me — that perhaps she wasn’t taking as good care of me as possible.  That is a complete lie.  I could not have hoped for a better caretaker.

Look, I’ve told you about my problems, told you about all the pain over the past few years.  I haven’t been shy about sharing with you my fondness for the pharmaceuticals that have provided me with relief.  But even I wasn’t prepared this time.  It took a few days in the hospital to figure out the best combination of drugs to keep me comfortable.  What they didn’t tell me was: “Look, Mr. Harvey, when you get home, these drugs might make you say things and write things that simply aren’t true and have the potential to come across with a mean tone.  No, I LOVE my wife.  I will always LOVE my wife.  She is the only woman I have ever LOVED.  There I go again with the openness.  If I was ever conscious of any action of mine that would hurt her I would want to throw myself off the roof of a tall building.

So I need to stop writing now.  When am I coming back?  Maybe I’ll finish out the last two weeks of Lent and this can be my penance.  There is something that kind of sucks here.  I had prayed for a while that this blog would take off.  I secretly hoped and prayed that someone, somewhere in a position to do something about it would come across my blog and in due course I would be signing the rights to creative licensing for a cable network to turn the whole thing into a short series or a publisher to make a book out of it.  Never happened.  I didn’t have the energy or know-how to pursue it.  But in the past few weeks I have noticed an uptick in interest.  I’ve seen that a number of complete strangers (to me) who happen to be legitimate bloggers writing on subjects like fatherhood, humor, and all things in between have been adding me to their Twitter groups, following me, commenting, and sharing my posts.  So it looks like this couldn’t have come at a better time!

Who knows?

Just remember that one thing I asked you to do, please.  Please, even if it’s on the back of your hand with a Bic pen, write my name somewhere and then, each time you see it, pray for me.  This recovery is way more difficult than I had imagined.  And I already know that folks like Zippy (my co-worker and friend) stopped reading this post around the third paragraph.  I’m garrulous.  We know this.

Pray.

Pray.

Pray.

 

Oh, and bye for now.

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2 responses to “Where I’m Going, No One Knows

  1. Listen, you could NEVER alienate me! Your name is always on our lips and added to daily morning prayers for a complete recovery and the strength to get through this time. No kidding – your life is simply not your own when you are trying to recover from a major surgery and re-master the simplest of tasks.

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