So, I'm sitting here at almost four in the morning, contemplating what to write. It's been such a long time since I've posted entries regularly� I would imagine I have no following anymore. That's okay.

What's been going on in my life? That's a pretty big question.

Still pretty ticked off with the paternal parental unit. Not very interested in any kind of relationship with him whatsoever. And, cold as it may sound, I'm actually kind of anticipating his death.

That's not exactly what I mean. See, he's been really sick for a while. October of last year, through mid February of this year he spent in the hospital. Various different ailments. Severe, though.

He was� Okay, so that approach isn't working either. How can I say this?

As I've written many times before, Dad and I have issues.

GAH! Even that is jumping too far ahead in the story�

Okay, short form.

Since about the end of June, I've been attending a local church� part of the New Life group. The people are nice, the music is� well, the people are nice. I really like the Pastor, David. He's pretty much exactly what I asked God for. Surprises me sometimes.

I've had a really good relationship with my brother, the previously mentioned Young Prince. He's been coming around more often and he's gone to the Feast with us a couple years now. He's really cool, and I've found a sense of normalcy because he's in my life. Yet another answered prayer� Yay God!

Dad's been really sick lately and Mom is of the opinion that he's not going to last the year. Of course, she said that last year too� She did say it after the Feast, so I'm pretty sure she meant 2005, but that's truly beside the point.

Since about the middle of June, I've been writing almost daily entries in a series of journals. They're more like letters to the Young Prince, and I've given him those journals to read.

Just before starting those letters/entries, I was working pretty hard on a new novel� that one that I won't be submitting for publication. I spent a total of about eight months on it� learned a lot about me, learned more about my relationship with Dad, and I discovered that though the emotions expressed in that novel are valid and worth attention, they would also hurt Dad. He wouldn't ever admit it, but they would rip him apart.

At least, that's what I tell myself.

Anyway� the above few things are why I haven't been writing in this diary. I've been writing a lot, but not here. I've invested many, many, many hours in my mental spewings� just not here. Don't be jealous� the internet hasn't been a good place for me lately. I don't want to slide back into the escapism of the 'net.

So, the stuff about the brother� the Young Prince�

One of the things that's so wonderful about having him in my life now, is that he gives me this sense of normalcy. I get this picture of how life could have been if I'd grown up with him. Sure, he would have torqued me off on a regular basis. He would have done all those things brothers do to their younger sisters� And, he would have been a handful� but, the family dynamic would have been so much different.

Well, the family dynamic is different now. When the Young Prince is here, Dad is a different person. Both Mom and I have noticed it. The Young Prince hasn't noticed, because he is the change. Still, when he's around, Dad is a nicer man.

It's so very hard to explain that statement and be understood. I suppose that first I need to state that I am fully aware that thirty plus years of life experience can shade the truth a bit. Heh. Understatement of the year???

I know that I have pre-programmed responses� learned behavior� buttons. When Dad pushes them� even when I THINK he's pushed them, I tend to react according to the learned behavior. That's what defense mechanisms are all about.

However, the truth remains that even after giving license for the conditioned responses and learned behaviors, Dad is a nicer man when the Young Prince is here.

I don't really want to get into that right now. So there.

Okay, so about Dad's sickness and his near-dying-ness.

Since (um, can't remember when) that October when Dad wound up in the hospital for his heart attack (three years ago? Four now?), he's been off and on about his health and all. He still resolutely refuses any and all connection to a heart attack. I know, full well, that he had serious problems with his heart. You don't get test results showing that the front half of your heart is completely necrotic without having some health issues.

He had, if you remember, 80, 70 and 85 percent blockage in three arteries and his heart was pumping at 10 percent of normal. So, there were serious issues.

Through some intensive prayer, he had some miraculous healing. Great, wonderful, good!

He had about six months or so of moving very slowly and recuperation time. Yet he consistently denied any and all involvement with a heart attack. Okay, that's your gig. Whatever you want to believe is okay by me.

He got stronger and recovered quite nicely. He didn't make it back to pre-non-heart-attack condition, but he was getting better. He was also changing in character. He was being more loving, kinder, more gentle. It was nice. I was also thawing. I was starting to believe that the relationship between he and I might actually be repaired.

However, once he started feeling so much better, he started returning to his previous behavior and character. Mom and Dad's 30th anniversary came and, as always, Mom did all the work in putting together a party. Dad went charter fishing with the Young Prince and the Golden Child (the Young Prince's oldest son).

At the meal portion of this little anniversary celebration, we had burgers or some such. Dad, in his typical way, slathered mayo on his bun and with the same spoon got relish, leaving mayo smears in the relish. That wasn't enough, he needed more mayo, so with the same spoon he left relish chunks in the mayo.

Fool that I was, I said something about it. "Dad, that's gross." He glared at me as if I'd just cursed out his mother and snarled, "I bought it, I can do whatever I want with it."

Yup, right back to the old ways. So, true to form, I too went back to my old ways� I shut up and didn't eat� because I didn't know what food things he had purchased and I wasn't willing to risk eating something he'd spent money on.

I was quiet, doing my best to be invisible, and I just stayed out of the way. Passive aggressive� yes. But at the time, it was the conditioned response� survival mode.

Same day, after the eating portion� there was another confrontation� the Young Prince was trying to make a path for communication between myself and Dad. Didn't work. Dad said something snippy, I smiled thinly and kept quiet, he responded with the equivalent of "I double-dog-dare ya to say anything against me." And again I smiled faintly but said nothing. I'd decided I wasn't going to "react". He said something else. I looked at Mom, closed my eyes, made my apologies and left� I went downstairs. My usual response. When it gets to a question of fight or flight� I slink downstairs to my pig sty of a room.