For what it is worth..

 

The part of this story that brings a deep ache is not knowing if my baptism was a sham or not.  I cannot locate records and only have a photo of a man identified as Fr. Patrick Peyton, somewhere in southern California in Dec of 67 or Jan of 68. My Godparents I have no recall of, Mc-wave to the Navy-Gills standing proud. I have that , photos of dad with men who very much look like Jay Sebring, Gary Powers, and William Hamling. I have a photo of a woman looking like a young Yvonne Craig standing by a young Hamling and two children with them. I have tangibles. I've researched the history - the puzzle pieces are fitting but the one thing aching my heart more than anything in this bizarre story of Foxes and Hounds is I don't know if my baptism was a ploy for whatever script they were all playing out. 

I grew up strict Catholic. I ran to the stained glass windows of St. Nicholas Church in Evanston when I needed a blanket of warmth and love. I ached when a priest refused my father the eucharist while laid up in CCU and only because he married a divorced woman in a non Catholic Church. I felt the pressure to be perfect, saintly, in a world ripping at me around every turn and every time I messed up I beat my self worth  into oblivion, never feeling worthy. A lot of it collapsing in at once when the church was going through a first round of CSA scandals stemming out from the very pedo rings that moved next door to me, and I became collateral damage, John David Norman -his pal from Bellefontaine, Ohio ..and ya know the direction that all heads down secret pathways and brotherhoods. 

It's a lot and now when I look at my baptism photo I see a scene being played out and not a milestone in my life. An act - part of a collage known as my life. Maybe that is why the painful memories stick the most, the were truly felt deep, as pain can only exist in our core - the love most often felt fake, orchestrated for another reason - fleeting. 

And now I stare at that photo -its burned into my mind's eye. The very thing I ran to for comfort during all of this storm - was it real? Was I supposed to be there? What the hell is all of this ? 

I truly don't care about the back story and the possibility of whatever it all was -- 

It wasn't worth it. Whatever this fox and the hounds thing has been. It wasn't worth it. 

There is no title 

No amount of money 

No pride in a lineage 

That will ever tell me this - any of it- was worth it. 

And it is not selfish of me to say that - 

It wasn't worth it. 

My Friday morning coffee thoughts...

Be well 💜💜💜