Shut Down

So, it has come to what may be the final post for this blog. If you've been trying to keep track, officially this is the 282nd post since 10-21-2008. Didn't make it that long, did I? Only been online just over a year, and only been blogging just under a year. Not that this is my first time being online. I've tried the internet, off and on, for around twenty years or so. I remember being on Compuserve. I don't even know if that exists anymore. That was in the days of Prodigy, which I never used.

Yesterday I was offline because my current service provider crashed. Don't know if it was the storms which passed through or if they got hit with some cyber attack. When I called their technical support line I got a recorded message which simply stated that "High speed internet users in Minnesota may not have access to the internet today. We apologize for the inconvenience and our technicians are doing all they can to correct the problem."

High speed? I didn't know. Wow! How disappointing. I was hoping I could get high speed if/when I reconnect. Now it turns out I've been using it. I guess that's good. Else this round of internet access would have gone the way of the others: I get p*ssed off because everything takes so frikkin' long and I cancel the service.

When I started this blog last October I didn't know why. There were things I wanted to say, but not only was I not sure what they were, but I didn't even know to whom I wanted to say them. I guess I hinted at it in my fourth post, titled, "A Wound That Will Not Heal". That post was about Daddy, and how I had deliberately hurt him.

I have talked about Daddy a lot in this blog. It's been twenty-five years since he went away and I still miss him. How would my life be different had he stayed? He would not be happy with me, I think. I've lived life longer than he did when he was here, but I have achieved nothing and have nothing to show for it. What a waste.

Another of my favorite topics is Stephen. Dear Stephen. Taken even earlier than Daddy. Daddy made it to fifty. Stephen barely passed forty. It has been fun recapturing some of the good times (and bad) I shared with both Daddy and Stephen. On a couple of occasions we shared them together, but mostly Stephen and Daddy didn't meet up.

The third topic which dominated this blog was The Old House, and what it was like growing up there. As miserable as living there was, I find myself wistfully returning to it time and again in thought and heart. I guess that is where I want to be after all. I know I'm not all that keen on the present.

Daddy was a hurting and lonely man. Born a b*stard child in a time when such people were not viewed as people, he lived a tortured life. He married when he didn't want to marry because my mother was pregnant with Ranlen and Daddy felt an obligation about that. He had wanted to travel. Be an airplane pilot. He had a license for a time, but was forced to let it lapse due to money constraints. He eventually got his traveling in by virtue of his job, which was regional truck driving in the midwest.

Stephen was an artist who had trouble dealing with many of life's unpleasant realities. His hero was Vincent Van Gough, who he said killed himself. Stephen had a frightful interest in suicide, and I have more than once wondered about the accident which killed him. How accidental was it? Daddy once recorded a musical story in which he very strongly intimated that his drinking and smoking were deliberate efforts to leave this life early. His words, "There are many ways to kill oneself", still haunt me.

But Stephen was especially close to his mother, and when he learned the reason his family had moved to the country (where he met me) was because his mother had been having an affair it hit him hard. I suppose there are things children just don't need to know about their parents.

The Old House kind of suffered, too. By the time we moved in it was quite delapidated, both in structure and in other ways. Once it had been the proud center of a huge farm. Now it stood in the corner of a five-acre lot with two outbuildings. Everything else had been sectioned off and sold as part of other property. It's walls were buckling and it's roof was leaking. Perhaps the fire which brought it down was self-induced? It seems a shame that it's gone. What a waste.

Will that be my legacy, too? "What a waste?" Sometimes I think so.

I have called this blog "A Voice in the Wind" because I tend to ramble. It's hard for me to keep focus because so many different ideas capture my attention. But I liked to tell myself I had important things to say. Turns out I was wrong. What a pity.

There have been several times when I thought about just shutting down the blogs. Now that it will happen I feel sad about it. Yes, if I want to spend the money I am sure I can be blogging again in no time. But there isn't a lot of money to spend. We are scheduled to reconnect to the internet some time this week, but as I wrote at the top of this post, the service provider is having their own set of problems.

We'll see. So, on the chance that I am unable or unwilling to come back, I will leave you with one of my favorite songs. I've posted it before. It's a friendship song. In fact, it's called "Friends". Do play it. And when you do, think of me.

Have a good one.

I hope the day will be a lighter highway
For friends are found on every road
Can you ever think of any better way
For the lost and weary travellers to go

Making friends for the world to see
Let the people know you got what you need
With a friend at hand you will see the light
If your friends are there then everything's all right

It seems to me a crime that we should age
These fragile times should never slip us by
A time you never can or shall erase
As friends together watch their childhood fly

Making friends for the world to see
Let the people know you got what you need
With a friend at hand you will see the light
If your friends are there then everything's all right