Sam Heath
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samheath - > Sam Heath -> The Weedpatch Gazette
The Weedpatch Gazette

Some years ago I was watching a TV series entitled “Life Goes On.” The following is an excerpt from one chapter of my book “Birds With Broken Wings” and I want to share this with others who have not read the book:

    TV Guide lists Life Goes On as #1 among the 10 top shows recommended for Teens. Quote: “Parents that struggle, kids that cope, and believable love.” And it is Kellie Martin, largely, who makes it believable. But such believability is only achieved through the vulnerability of genuinely caring about others; no matter how masterful the actor or actress, this is not something that can be learned as a craft; it is either there or it is not.

    And, so, I fear for Kellie, as I do for Karrie, my remaining little angel, as someone who has that rare and precious gift of really caring. And because of this, they are vulnerable to the evil that men do and those eyes betray their love to those that would take advantage as well as to those who would return that love in kind.

    But to attempt to describe the un-describable? I cannot. I can place flowers on the nightstand of my Lady, I can try, with all my powers, to describe my feelings to her, I can do the thankless and grimy tasks of day-to-day living and punching a clock as expressions of my love, but if those eyes of innocent trust and wonder and unreserved giving like the eyes of Diana, Karen, and Kellie are missing I soon realize, as it continues to play itself out, it is all in vain.

    Damned by an age which despises those like Scott and Cooper, the art of language, hopes, dreams and ideals of true love and true romance, our young people have been cheated of the most precious thing of all: the ability to give and receive pure, unselfish love, love that sacrifices without any sense of sacrifice this having been betrayed and traded for unbridled lust where our young girls are the predominant victims, an age where we are learning, more and more, that our young girls are preyed upon by even those of their own families! How willing I would be to put the rope around the neck of any that would betray the trust of a child in such a fashion! These monstrous bullies, these maimers and cripplers of innocence cannot be human beings! They are beasts; devouring, unclean, predatory, destroying monsters in human guise and should be treated as such!

    As I began to face up to what Kellie had opened in my own soul which I thought had been successfully buried, the question was what to do about it? For several days I struggled with the question. I know nothing and everything about Kellie Martin. It's what I know of genuine love and romance, what I know from her eyes as that of my own daughters that truly counts about Kellie, that makes me fearful for her and all the Kellies she represents. Certainly my girls have been the recipients of the thoughts of their father. But, how many times did I fail to warn those thousands of teenagers I was entrusted with in the schools? Now, having seen Diana's eyes once again in Kellie I had to at least try to do something about it.

    Diana was killed in a motorcycle accident after having been married less than a year. She lay in a coma for several days. My son Daniel, Diana’s brother and I would sit by her side, reading and praying, hoping against hope that she would come out of it. But it wasn't to be. She slipped quietly away from us without ever regaining consciousness.

    Kellie's eyes are those of my daughter Karen's as well. But Karen has been hurt and betrayed so much in her young life, seeking love and fulfillment that she is beginning to lose the open, wonder-filled, pure, honest, trusting elements of these wells and windows of the soul. People who care as much as Diana, Karen, and Kellie can never hide what they really feel; their eyes betray them. I grieve to see in Karen's eyes the increasing knowledge of an evil world of selfish, using and abusing, people.

    Are we now a society for which genuine love and romance are anachronistic, a harking back to simpler times where the search for such was not an exercise in quixotic futility? I will not have it so! Not as long as there are girls like Kellie, not as long as there are daughters like Diana and Karen who can truly love their fathers and evoke the purest love in the universe in the hearts of those fathers!

    I'll never forget the time I took Karen out for our very first grown-up dinner together. She was only seventeen, but she was breathtakingly beautiful! It was nearly impossible to believe this beautiful girl/woman was my own daughter, the little girl I use to tumble with, cuddle, tease and tickle.

    I had made reservations for the dinner at one of the finest restaurants in the area. Every eye in the place was on us. I was bursting with pride that my little girl was pleased to let her daddy show her off, and show her off I did. Now you just can't do this with your sons. A father has an altogether different relationship with sons. As they grow up, they become men in their own right; but those little angels? Never! They will never become women; they will always be Daddy's Little Girl.

    Karrie (she will never be Karen to her dad) couldn't possibly have known the turmoil of my own thoughts as we sat in this fashionable restaurant and I savored every moment of this precious time together. I wanted to capture it forever, indelibly, on my heart and soul, to have it there for recall when the shadows of life began to lengthen, when she would move into her own sphere of living her own life and dad would recede.

    What kind of men are the fathers of all these girls who sell out their dreams of a good man so cheaply? And all these young men who treat girls so shabbily, what are their fathers teaching them? What redeeming note can be sounded for a culture which treats its children in such a fashion, leaving them without their right to dream and hope? (End)

As I contemplate the foregoing written a few years ago and the shadows of my life have grown quite long, I now live with the loss of my other little angel, Karrie. The grief never departs for the loss of both of my little angels; such grief is profound beyond any words as those who have suffered such a loss can testify. The point I want to make here is that today’s America seems to actually hate children. We do not cherish them, and a nation that fails to cherish its young has no future! Nor does it deserve one!

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posted by samheath on Tuesday, November 3, 2009 at 12:13 PM
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posted by witbee on Nov 3, 2009 at 12:39 PM

I am so glad I don't have daughters.

Great words, Doc.

posted by samheath on Nov 3, 2009 at 12:43 PM

Looking back witbee; well, my own thoughts become a turmoil but I believe having sons is easier on fathers in most ways.

posted by NancyII on Nov 3, 2009 at 04:38 PM

That was very poignant Sam.  Thank you for sharing it with us.  With the girls in my family I find it hard to know whether to take them by the shoulders and shake them, or hope that all they've learned from us will serve them well as they move into adulthood.  Of the 5 grandchildren, 4 are girls.  Two grown and two, 14 and 16, are blossoming into young ladies.  I wish I could spare them life's pain..as I also wish for the grandson and the two greats.  The hardest thing about raising children is to watch them hurt.

 

posted by witterpitters on Nov 3, 2009 at 04:52 PM

As a mother I can put a band aide on a scraped knee. I can kiss a boo-boo all better. I can hold, cuddle and wipe tears away. What broke my heart was that I could not heal the broken heart. 

Each step with my daughter made me realize what my mother must have felt and it made me appreciate my mom more and more.  Now, I am my mother :-)  Not a bad thing to be :-)

 

posted by samheath on Nov 3, 2009 at 04:56 PM

Nancy; my great-granmother would often tell my brother and me when we were injured she wished she could take the pain on her. I believed "grandma" and believed even more when I had children. How we parents wish...

posted by samheath on Nov 3, 2009 at 05:47 PM

The healing power of a mother's kiss WP; I don't understimate it.

posted by ALICEN on Nov 3, 2009 at 06:12 PM

Sam -- reading this made me all weepy again.  It's beautiful. 

My father had four daughters, no sons.  I was the last, and I disappointed everybody (sisters included) greatly.  They were going to give me a boy's name with an "ette" on the end but decided instead to simply make it a girl's name. 

I tried very hard during the first decade of my life to make up for the fact that I had been such a disappointment.  Well, no, not really.  I was simply a tomboy who could beat any boy at nearly anything -- until about the age of 11. 

I think you made the very best of every moment you had with your daughters.  They were fortunate.

 

posted by samheath on Nov 3, 2009 at 06:19 PM

Thank you Alicen; I wish you were right but there were many missed opportunities. I suppose most feel this way once a loved one is gone. But I came to realize my girls would not want me to carry a load of regrets.

posted by samheath on Nov 4, 2009 at 05:25 AM

Since some may be wondering due to a recent post by another "Sam-basher" I won't allow my post to be hijacked by those who want to pursue an agenda and want to use my posts to legitimize their agenda. It is true many of my friends are on dialup and I ask others to be conscious of this and refrain from posting large graphics and videos. Links of interest on topic are welcome. And contrary to his lies on his post, I did invite him to comment but to refrain from posting videos as a courtesy to those who only have dialup.

posted by ALICEN on Nov 4, 2009 at 09:11 AM

 Sam -- there's a difference between commenting and posting an epic.  Once in a while i've noticed my own comments beginning to string out way too long; that's the time I copy it and paste it into a blog of my own, if I think it's that important.  I realize I have a tendency to verbalize just a little too much even to my own liking.

posted by samheath on Nov 4, 2009 at 09:23 AM

As we have both noted Alicen, a post is like your home. Every home has its rules for guests and no one of any sensibility allows their home to be trashed by uninvited guests. It is too often the case of these uninvited guests to hijack a post of mine or someone else in an attempt to gain legitimacy for their own agenda. I won't allow that.

posted by StraightAhead on Nov 4, 2009 at 10:33 AM

About six months ago my 22 year old daughter was being harrassed at work, several different times, by a selfish brute of a customer.  Her boss laughed it off but I didn't.  After a call one day from my daughter that he was back again, I hustled down there and was able to meet the S.O.B. outside the business in the parking lot.  I introduced myself and told him he was bothering my daughter.  I then simply said, "If my daughter is being bothered than I am bothered.  Do you understand what I am saying?"  Like most punks, he denied everything but he also never returned. 


posted by samheath on Nov 4, 2009 at 10:38 AM

Thanks for sharing that SA; I've cautioned many times over the past three years on this site that after one insult to me or my guests you are out permanently from commenting here. We are all responsible for keeping our "houses" in order.

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