Bill Cosby

I grew up in suburbia. One would call us "middle class". I always had food and shelter. I never really got into trouble. I knew what I could and couldn't do. I couldn't play football like Theo. I couldn't sew a Gordon Gartrell shirt like Denise (and neither could she). I didn't have the above average cranial smarts like Sondra or even the business sense of Vanessa.

Somehow, it was alright. It was okay. I came out fine. I passed the beginning of life's myriad of tests. I was raised by a GREAT Clair. The question remains... Where was MY Heathcliffe Huxtable?

50% Orphan

My brain is a hodge podge of muddled, varied, inconsistent and confused deliberation. I always knew how to manipulate myself into philosophizing that someday this would be resolved in a rather harmonious and triumphant fashion while remaining steadfast and resolute in comprehending that I was going to be the "winner" of this (mostly internal) battle. Truth is, no one wins this shit. We both lost. Nothing destroys a man more than lies and broken commitments. Boys need their fathers to encourage them to dream ginormous dreams. I needed you to share with me what's special about where you were from and what made you who you were! I needed you to show me how to have functional relationships with other male role models! I was supposed to take my cues from you. I needed you to tell me how to deal with anger and bad feelings. Who was there to see me wrestle? Who taught me how to tie a tie? I needed you to show me how to build, repair and maintain things! Who taught me to pick up a hammer and nail and fix things that MEN are supposed to be able to fix because throughout the annals of history it's what we have always done. We fix things! We're FIXERS! The answer to those questions above... Not you. I'm broken. I'm fifty percent orphan. The other half of me though... is rather amazing.

Imagination

I imagine you -short-light skinned-sober. I imagine what you could have been to me--a role model--a friend--a father. Did you like sports? Did you like music? To dance? Were you a hard worker? I can't fathom how you felt. The embarrassment. The shame of your earthly plight. I imagine that someday when we’re all called Home, my questions will finally have answers. Until then--imagination from my Heavenly Father is all I have to rely on.

IDK

I don't know whether to be mad that you're gone, sad that you're gone or whether to be glad that you're gone because now you finally have the peace that had alluded you throughout your days.The truth is (and let's keep it real), you were never there. You were an apparition in my dreams. You never stayed. You fled, like a thief in the night, you robbed me of the best days of my life...my childhood was in a way cheated.

Five times. I count again, FIVE times I talked to you during my 32 years on the planet. Never a card, never a visit, never anything that meant anything real. Empty promises are what you gave.

June 17, 2011 I found out that your pain had permanently subsided. I don't know how to feel. I don't think I ever will find the words to describe the vast whatever that's inside me. Now I only have peoples thoughts of what you were like. Well wishes from strangers coming from left and right. I didn't know you. I still don't. I'm hurting and no one knows the extent to which my feelings go. Not even me. These are my words to you written in such a way that I can't even begin to formulate something coherent. I'm all over the place. I have a right to be. You never grounded me. I don't know (to be continued................maybe)

National Cathedral Times: Pictures I've Taken