Wonderland Wanderess

  Conflict will either unite, or divide.  Destruction lingers on the winds accompanying it, as death lingers in the hearts of those who have loved and lost. See, the thing about loss is that it will either strengthen, or shatter; harden, or soften. We fight to hold on, and we fight to let go. Hardships are fire to be wielded as either a sword of flames, or the fuel which burns down empires. But the ashes of fallen empires form the mortar to construct the most indestructible and impenetrable of fortresses. The builders of these safe havens harbour every stone and stick ever thrown their way; bank them in silos, awaiting the day their resilience is called upon to serve their fellow humans. The warriors of empathy as they are cannot be perturbed by falsely hateful words. They are comprised only of love, waiting patiently in the dark for the lost to join them in the light. They do not give up and refuse to walk away. As Martin Luther King once said, "You cannot drive out darkness with

No human being is entirely good or entirely bad and my father was no exception to this.  Amidst attempted abductions, over a decade of stalking, countless Domestic Violence Orders, alcohol induced rages, bitter custody battles, supervised visitations at contact centres and terrifying untreated mental illness, was the man who did not once hesitate to order seafood pizzas for me, all the while knowing I would eat nothing, but the teensy-weensy baby octopuses off them.     Beneath the outward portrayal of toughness was the dad who took his children to Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meetings and church so we could see he was trying.  Masked by the facade of a performance he had mentally cast himself in as "Father of the Year", was the manic yes-man, in all his grandiose glory, who saw no problem with allowing his son to ride in the boot of the car at his request to, nor with doing doughnuts and burn-outs in the middle of public parks—never mind the blood noses from our faces const