Tangled in a World Wide Web

Warning! Political (or anti-political) Rant. This was originally a Facebook post from six years ago. Things have not improved. So here it is again...      It is time that we break this unhealthy addiction. The two-party system is not a choice. It is not democracy. We are being force fed and manipulated. Do not blame the media. Their sins are many, but you don't expect an alligator to save you from a snake. Most sane folks would run from both.  It doesn't matter what you believe if your best choice is the lesser of two evils. Until enough people say "enough" they have no reason to offer better. If you really want to change the world, vote outside the circus. Neither of the clowns on display care about you. Anyone who wants the job, probably doesn't deserve it. Anyone who reaps such divisiveness and strife cannot have your best interests at heart, and cannot save this country.  Show me someone interested in healing and bringing together, closing this divide... so...

      EPOCH /ˈepək/ An epoch is a specific point in time or a distinctive period that marks the beginning of a new era, a significant historical shift, or a reference point for measurements. The term originated from the Greek word epochē, meaning "cessation" or "fixed point". - Merriam-Webster I cannot remember a time when I wasn’t in love with you.  There is a vague and distant memory of someone who looked a little like me, someone who existed, but just barely. A reflection in a mirror, with no before, and no next.  No specific, defining purpose or goals.  Just the now that was then, and the then that was before.      © 2025 Ron W Hamilton          All Rights Reserved

 I recently watched a video; technically, I rewatched a video of a guy doing magic tricks with a very young boy as his "helper". Clearly, the boy was not in on the plan and was having the time of his life. The boy was fascinated and giggling the entire time. His reactions made the entire thing. The magic was good, no doubt, but the pure joy of that child elevated the entire performance. It was infectious. It made me think about how we lose that somewhere along the way as we grow older. The belief in magic, the innocence, the joy. It all changes. I am not saying that adults do not have fun or cannot enjoy a magic show, but it is definitely different. Once you've peeked behind the curtain, so to speak, the great and powerful wizard is just a man, and the magic is illusion.  I think, unfortunately, we treat everything the same way. We watch with fascination and awe, and enjoy the spectacle, but as we get older, we start asking questions. We want to know how. As we dig deeper...

 To some, today is Cinco de Mayo. To some, it is just Tuesday. For me, today is super special... Better than cheese dip and margaritas. Twelve years ago today (it was a Monday) at 7:46 am (Central), I became a dad. It is a role that I never expected, and honestly, didn't think I wanted, much less needed. I was in my mid-forties and still hadn't grown up, so the thought of being responsible for another human, a tiny living, breathing, helpless being, was terrifying... For everyone.  But here's the thing: after the initial shock wore off, which was surprisingly brief, I was excited. Terrified, yes, but genuinely excited. At that point in my life, I was excited about a lot. I was in love. I was happy. And now, I was going to be a father... no... a dad. I had a father. I swore I would do better.  I remember everyone joking about me changing diapers and all the worst parts of parenting a baby, but none of that scared me. What truly scared the crap out of me was failing. Not be...

 April is often equated with Spring and rain, not gloomy gray days, but happy little showers that bring life and beauty. Everything is colorful and lively. But for me, April is a tough month. As I sit here writing this, I am acutely aware that one week from today marks the 12th anniversary of the passing of my mom. It seems unreal even as I type those words.  Twelve years. I don't need a calendar or reminder app to keep up with that. My mom passed 13 days before my first biological child was born. I spoke with her the night before, and that conversation began exactly like every conversation I had with her began for the previous few months... "Do we have a baby yet?" To say that she was excited is like saying Pompeii was a bit warm in 79 AD. The fact that she never got to see my baby or hold her is one I will never get over.  In 20 days, my oldest girl will turn 12, and I can barely believe it. She never got to meet the woman who raised my sister and me by herself. She nev...

I tried to love you, but I’m no good at so many things.   I never had a real role model for father or husband.    My mom was everything. Don’t get me wrong. I do love you, with everything I am,  but it hasn’t been enough.    I am never enough. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be the one…   to get the happy ending of books and movies and fairy tales…   to take my last breath lying in your arms, feeling safe and warm and loved. I used to think that the saddest thing ever was when I first loved you  all those years ago, and then you went away and married him .    You said you “ didn’t want to risk our friendship ”. And so, there I was, without you…   without my love… or my friend;     and here I am — full circle.    © 2026 Ron W Hamilton   All Rights Reserved

I gave you my whole heart, Something I swore I'd never share; and you took it gladly, and even acted like you cared. I shared my whole soul with all my dirty truths and shame, and you took it all in and eased all of my doubts and pains.  I offered my whole life, Everything I am or could be, and you slipped on my ring and you were all that I could see. Until death do us part, nothing would ever change my love. It never wavered once, I even asked my mom above. I don't know what went wrong. I feel like I've gone quite insane, but I know without you, I will never be whole again.  © 2025 Ron W. Hamilton   All Rights Reserved This one makes me cringe. I know it isn't good, but it wanted out, and my mind was doing the best it could in full survival mode. I hope one day to polish it up and make it what I hoped it would be. How many things could I say that about in my life?               Image is AI generated. 

 I needed some time to process this one before I could form words, let alone coherent, cohesive thoughts. That doesn't necessarily mean that it will be better, but I hope it is taken with the respect intended.  We all have our own Kryptonite . Some of us know what it is. Some don't. This week, Brad Arnold of Three Doors Down " left [his] body lying somewhere in the sands of time ", and his words in the hearts and minds of at least one generation. His particular Kryptonite turned out to be a common one... Cancer.  There is, undoubtedly, not one among us who has not lost someone close to us, or at the very least watched someone close to us battle this beast. If the sickness isn't bad enough, the treatment is often as bad or worse. Patients are expected to Down Poison . It's a Dangerous Game . Not everyone wins, but that does not mean Loser . Brad Arnold did not Duck And Run . Just like with his music, he gave his best. Now, as he told us he would, he has passed...

If you've been reading lately, you know I am dropping some old (and not-so-old) writings, mostly poems, here as a backup. I have lost much of my writing over the years, so this seemed like a reasonable plan. So today I am adding a couple of short poems from a few months ago.  I'm not trying to explain much in these blog posts. I am just saving my stuff. Maybe, some of you will know, or glean what's happening. Maybe not. Maybe it will resonate in a different, more personal way for you. As a writer, I think that is as good as it gets.       Midnight in May The oceans don’t have the depth of your eyes, nor does the sky shine nearly as bright. The moon’s tidal forces can’t pull me away. The stars can’t match the gleam. What a sight. There is no sun that can warm me from within, quite like the fire of your touch. Your kiss sustains and satisfies my hunger, slakes my thirst. I crave it so much. My heartbeat matches the cadence of yours. Your love fills my so...

This one came to me on yet another sleepless night, about 2 in the morning, as I lay next to her sleeping, beautiful as always, right next to me, but out of reach.   RWH  8/23/2025   Too Late Too Soon I miss your body wrapped in mine -  two halves that make a whole. I miss your laugh and tender kiss -  the intertwining of our souls. I miss that smile that was just for me, that told the world she's mine.  I miss the hands that once held me when everything was fine.  I miss the way we used to talk about our day, our life. I miss the glow that shone around the day you became my wife.  I miss the man I used to be who felt like he was strong. I miss the way you made me feel like I could do no wrong.  I'm still the man who looks at you like you are just a dream -  beauty that all the years can't hide, that doesn't come from a cream. I'm still the man who wants nothing more  than to always be by your side.  It fills me with a confiden...

  While no one is paying attention, I think I'll use this space and time to dump some writings as a sort of backup. Mostly poems that I've written over the last few months, as my life imploded. I am trying to rebuild, and it is sometimes overwhelming. The future I thought I had, the one I never expected and didn't think I deserved, came crashing down around me. Some might say the past caught up to me, but the present is the worst. I suppose if you're unlucky enough to be reading this, you probably know what is going on; if not, it doesn't matter, because this is just a backup and a catharsis. You're invited to my misery in the form of poetry and other ramblings. Feel free to comment if you want, but please be gentle. These are my rawest emotions, bled out on the page... or screen. This poem is called Dragon Slayer, and I guess even if you don't know me from Adam's housecat, you can figure out the gist of my crumbling world. Dragon Slayer If you'd hav...

 I know it's been quite a while since I have written anything here, and I doubt anyone is paying attention. There weren't many paying attention when I was writing somewhat regularly. A lot has happened since my last post, and I want to use this as my therapy, my catharsis, my outlet, and in some cases just a place to park my ramblings that might seem worth revisiting again, later. I have lost much of my writing... poems and such, that I naively assumed would be safe forever on someone else's website. Between that (twice) and hard copies of older stuff (pre-interwebs) that have just been misplaced or possibly destroyed, I have lost some forever. Occasionally, I lament the loss for various reasons. I know no one else will even notice, but it's like a piece of me that is missing. Before I had kids, I might have described my writings as my children, but that seems a bit strong when I have real breathing offspring that I helped create and hopefully will have a bigger and bet...

 It's been a little over seven years since I have posted a new blog entry. I don't expect even the most ardent of followers are waiting on the edge of their seat for another installment. Nevertheless, I felt the urge to follow up the last post " Seven Things I've Learned in Seven Months " with an update. Better late than never. Here is a list of seven things I've learned in the seven years since becoming a father: That beautiful, sweet girl from a few years ago has been replaced by a mouthy, brat with an attitude that sometimes tests my reluctance to go to jail.  A houseful of females can get quite tense long before 3/4 of them even have periods. Gives new meaning to PMS (PRE-menstrual). Sometimes (far too often) I see or hear myself in one of my kids.  Sometimes, I see or hear my mom come right out of my mouth.  No one can hurt me quite like my kids. I owe my mom so many apologies. How I wish I could. I have learned a great deal but I still have so much to le...

Before my daughter was born, I wrote (OK, pilfered, paraphrased, and possibly plagiarized) a blog entry titled 99 things I hope to teach my daughter. Now, here we are, more than seven months in and I thought I'd share seven things I've learned. The things that she's learned had nothing to do with me. The things I've learned are all because of her. There is nothing better than the great big grin on her face when I walk into a room. There is no sound sweeter than her laugh. I can change diapers, wipe snotty noses and clean up spit up without a hazmat suit or throwing up. Not all babies look like aliens (it seems most don't in fact). Babies go through a LOT of diapers and baby wipes. A. Freaking. Lot. Eat, sleep, pee, eat, sleep, poop, eat, sleep, pee, and repeat. I have a lot to learn. (But I've learned a lot.) One bonus item that isn't on the numbered list only because it isn't technically from the baby... Mommy's job never ends. T...

With the approach of the holidays, I find myself in the familiar and unenviable position of being torn between all the blessings I should be thankful for and remembering that this is my first ever Thanksgiving without my mom. This is complicated by the fact that this week also marks the seven month anniversary of her death. Hard to imagine. My mom loved the holidays. The food, the fellowship, the family, the food. So many things remind me of her. So many little things. This will be an event. We are going to go to my sister's as I have most years when I could. Eating in the same place we had Thanksgiving last year with my mom. I don't know how to prepare for this. I don't like being ill prepared. Much less unprepared. I am writing this mostly as a cathartic exercise in hopes it will help. I am not fooled. I am not naive. Maybe a little desperate. I am trying not to imagine Christmas. That is a whole other ball game. And it falls on the eight month anniversary of my mom...

Three weeks after my last post, I lost my mom, quite suddenly. It's been nearly four months and I am no closer to understanding, no closer to acceptance, and certainly no closer to OK. This, just two weeks before my beautiful daughter was born. Mom had been so excited about my first child. A child no one ever expected. A grandchild she had given up on. (Yes, she has four awesome and monstrously talented grandkids she saw daily, but none from me.) At forty-five (when we found out) no one was as surprised as I was. No one was more excited than my mom. Every time I talked to her, she asked (usually her first words) "do we have a baby yet". The last time I called (the night before the morning I got "the call" was no exception. I told her soon. We talked about how we would get up there as soon as we could after so she could see the baby. I told her I would call her again soon. She sounded tired and I didn't want to aggravate an already delicate balance. (Another...

I am in my mid forties and about to have my first child. It is and has already been life-altering, eye-opening, scary, exciting and so many things. I recently ran across a blog or article that intrigued me and so I did what anyone would, I copied it and pasted it and combed through and modified it to my own personality and beliefs. I expect more than a few of these will change over the years at least to some degree and most likely I’ll end up learning as much as she. But for now, in all my ignorance, this is what I hope to instill in this wonderful, beautiful, little person that is part me and part Jennifer. I hope and pray that the parts of each of us are the right parts.   (I apologize that I forgot to get the link or author’s name as some of these are all but unchanged and plagiarism is not my goal.) You are absolutely and undeniably unique.  You are one of a kind; there is no one else exactly like you in the world.  BE YOURSELF.  If so...