What a great morning. Muckle Rd. : standing at the wood cook stove stirring the pot of maple goo as it bubbles and moves towards sugar, flute music playing in the background, lovely incense burning to delight our noses, you joyfully follow guidance to feed the sourdough starter. Gather measuring cups and fill one cup of water, one cup of flour, then add one cup of starter. Stirring your jar of flour goo, you comment that stirring feels easy on the top and not near the bottom. In answer to your question, I offer that sticky may come from the starter, or the dry flour not being mixed completely yet. You stir and observe the contents through clear glass of the jar and decide the dry flour needs to be mixed and yes, now the spoon moves easily through the starter and its breakfast. I enjoy your company. You are fun and light hearted, playful, you listen well, and more importantly, you can look at a task and make decisions about what needs to be done. Empty the new flour bag into the flour jar, use the wide mouth funnel, clear the table now to prepare for the sugar pot that is almost done with it’s hot time on the stove. Now you gather a towel and place it on the chair back, place hot pads and sugar bowl on chair seat, and then you stand clear, cheering, as I dump the freshly granulated sugar into the bowl, hot pot bottom resting against the towel. Things just flow. We are such a great team.
Now it’s time to sit and eat as much sugar as we want. You exclaim joyfully over each beautiful lump, holding up flat ones for a special celebration. We both love the flat lumps and you offer one to me, sharing from your generous, abundant heart. I love you. You’re such a good friend.
Now we’re at the library together, I’m typing, writing to celebrate and soothe my soul. You’re looking at book four of a wonderful graphic novel series we’ve been reading together lately. I cherish every moment with you.
The other day, you called your papa, as you do when ever you desire. After a bit, you got a weird look on your face and seemed confused, and told me that you thought papa wanted to speak to me. I said ok and stepped outside. Papa asked if I wanted to negotiate an agreement so you can visit him. I said yes. Papa explained, again, that he wants you to leave me and go spend time with him at Austin Rd. I told papa, again, that I replied to that request, in writing. He said a bunch of stuff about me being a bully, and how the judge will see things differently than I do. I told him to have someone read him what I wrote and explain it to him, because I was not going to be able to help him understand with this verbal exchange, what I had already written down. He said in what I wrote, I did not offer anything to move towards a visit. I said that my offer was clearly stated. Papa replied that I did not offer anything, that I did not say what would happen if things were “cleared up”.
March 13, 2023, public blog post:
“I have asked a few times for papa and this person to clear up the issue so that we can move forward with you visiting papa, …”
(Emphasis added).
“I am not going to allow my child to spend time away from me, with a person that creates this situation of threat and accusation, and then refuses to clean it up. It could be cleaned up.”
https://teetsforpeace.blogspot.com/2023/03/yes.html
So I’m writing all this down again, and posting it in a public place, just to give my heart some ease and rest. Papa said I was forcing him to go the legal route and he doesn’t want to, but because I haven’t offered anything, he has no choice. He told me names of 3 people that, he said, will testify. I just want you to know Mateo, and I want to be able to remember, when you read this for the first time, (in 20 years,) what happened and why I made the choices I did. I trust you. I trust my relationship with God and where we are being led. I am eager to continue living life with you. I imagine this whole scenario could be the healing push that moves your papa towards some balance and the beginning of a life-giving relationship between you two. It also feels good to imagine that he will develop relationships with his daughter Hanna and her children, and possibly even his oldest daughter Audrey.
