After The Nightmare Comes This Mellow Dream

Separated From Love

It was very difficult to see my son when he was little, so, like those fathers in Shakespeare’s later works, I suffered one of humanity’s major misfortunes – being separated from a child I loved. The Italian legal system was expensive and my ex-wife made my life even more difficult by telling everyone I was dying of alcoholism. Her family doctor also certified I was and went on practising till he dropped dead.

              just one fake…

          just another fake

Of course, I had other problems in and with Italy because the country is not really that bel paese it is decked out to be.  Yes, OK for a holiday or red wine or landscaped beauties but not for me, anyway, living there and trying to cope with a load of fan-struck crap.

My sister also shares similar traits to my ex-wife. Both women fail to trust me. For example, both agree I drive dangerously and that it is a miracle my ugly mug is not pasted against a broken windscreen more often (an impossibility but you get my point).

However, I’ve noticed that all the women in my life believe I drive dangerously.*

Though my Thai partner is convinced she will open up something seething with corruption within me sooner or later (my very own can of worms), I live here in Thailand’s Pattaya in bliss – with her, her daughter and her granddaughter. You can imagine my joy when Kamonchanok, not yet two, curls up in my arms or smiles at me or drags me off to count pebbles in the garden. Her act of faith obliterates all the woes I have ever suffered!

      Yes, after the nightmare is this dream in which I now live where women and children are not taken away from me.

*passed the test first time, no accidents to speak of, fifty years of driving on the left, on the right, on occasions in the middle…

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