Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Prentice Powell – Good Father


The following is a transcript from a monologue given by Prentice Powell on the Arsenio Hall show earlier this year.  His words are quite powerful.  The video link is pasted down below.  The transcript is provided by the website Prezi.

Transcript of Prentice Powell – “Good Father”

Prentice Powell
I’m tired of us always having to prove our love to our sons
One of the biggest complements I get a lot of the times
Is how great of a father I am
They see pictures on the internet
And people complement you a lot because they see photos
And honestly sometimes, I wanna tell people
“Don’t tell me I’m a good father when you don’t know anything about me”
Fun loving daddy and son pictures on the Facebook page do not equate (…) values into your child’s development
And the fact that I’m black should be irrelevant when it comes to my ability to raise my son
My skin tone should not make me any better or worse when it comes to the paternal instinct but
Because fathers like me are apparently extinct I get asked for prays
And for what?
For doing what I’m supposed to do?
From strangers?
Strangers who don’t know when my son was born I only got him from twelve-noon on Saturdays to five p.m. on Sundays, when to the court to get more time, came back with twelve-noon on Saturdays to five p.m. on Sundays, plus child support fought for a year, had him for a year and half if not more, had him fifty percent of the time if not more, only to lose him when he started school to summer time and rotate in the holidays

Strangers who don’t know when my son was born I only got him from twelve-noon on Saturdays to five p.m. on Sundays, when to the court to get more time, came back with twelve-noon on Saturdays to five p.m. on Sundays, plus child support fought for a year, had him for a year and half if not more, had him fifty percent of the time if not more, only to lose him when he started school to summer time and rotate in the holidays
So when you see me in the streets with my little one and wanna say
“It’s so good seeing a father doing his job spending that quality time” don’t because I am being robbed
Robbed with the greatest gift
Forced to live through pictures on an IPhone to recognize the touch of my lips more than they do my fingertips And the smell of his lotion everyday I rub into my skin so when I smell myself, I think of him
Forced to live through memories that occur within a span of one week
Through occasions on a web cam chat with a child too young to speak back so when he reaches to you through that camera, all you can say is “son, I miss you too”
Or learn watching your son learn how to ride a bike via Skype in the hands of another man and even though he is a good man and you are glad he’s around, that man is not you
Or learn watching your son learn how to ride a bike via Skype in the hands of another man and even though he is a good man and you are glad he’s around, that man is not you
And not letting his mother know that all this is getting to you so you get up to grab some tissue because at all times that distance of 3174 miles can feel more like 3 million
Try dropping your son of at the airport with three teeth in his mouth go 4 weeks and come back with 5 and see if you don’t beat yourself up for not being around during that time so don’t tell me I’m a good father when you don’t know anything about me
Try to convince the court that knows nothing about you that you are simply worthy of time
See thousands of people inspired by your story but still feel that you are getting nowhere
Have people motivated by the pain that sits right here everyday inside of your chest and that same pain be the reflection of the amount of love that you possess, I want you to imagine your newborn baby sleep
You’re watching him, trying to get the sleep padderns down pack praying to get you get it right because you have 1 night not to go 6 days until you get him back, imagine

Being able to fly through this world, doing what you love to do but because of a court order your son before the age of 1 has to fly twice a month and maybe by the age of 2, he’ll have more frequent fly miles than you
Try never spending a day in your life locked up in prison and still watch your child grow up primarily through photos
Learn about his milestones via text message or Facebook and see if you don’t feel numb so how can I smile when people tell me I’m such a good father when I feel like I’m not being given enough time to actually be one
Raise your son without feeling like you actually raised him
And I know everything in this world doesn’t always go the way we plan and I can accept that all that’s fine
I just don’t understand how a man can be forced to pay half of day care, half of medical expenses, food, clothes, water but the same man that laid down to create that child is not automatically given half of the time, something about that situation is not right and when i’m done with this poem, I mean this, I don’t care if any of you clap, I just want my prays, my air, my earth, my water, my moon, my son, my baby, my motivation, my son
I just want my chance
I just want my son Justice Prentice Powell
I want my baby, back.

“Hope You’re Having A Great Time!”


“Hope you’re having a great time!”  A warm and encouraging wish that is typically used when someone is away on a trip, vacation, event, or perhaps on a date.  This comment is normally sincere and genuine.  And under normal circumstances, I would probably do my best to oblige the person making the comment.

But then there is this…

“Hope you’re having a great time!”  Of course, in written form it looks no different than the way I typed it in the last paragraph.  For the purpose of this post, this time, the sentence is meant as pure sarcasm.  And it is directed at me.  I have received this comment many times from those who feel they need to comment on my divorce proceedings that have no say at all, but feel they have the right to get involved.  And admittedly, I have received this comment from a few people on “my side”.

In any case, their assumption, and it is 100% wrong, because there are very few people who are aware of what is actually going on with me.  And that knowledge is intentional, but my claim that the statement is wrong is an understatement.

Just as the events leading up to me filing for divorce, I kept them from everyone except for my ex-wife.  We knew our issues, and there were many attempts to deal with them, and those attempts failed every time.  And so it came as a shock to everyone, including her (though it should not have come as a shock), when I filed for divorce.  But here we are a year later, and as I have always done, for the most part, I have kept the majority of my decisions and actions to myself.

Now of course, because it is human nature to be involved in things that should not involve us, my keeping things close to the vest result in a stereotypical behavior.  Humans “assume”.

Yep.  Here it comes.  “You know what happens when you assume?  You make an “ass” out of “u” and “me”.  Okay, I got that out of the way.

So, things have finally been discussed, where they needed to be, in the courtroom.  Actually, I would have preferred to work this out than through the courts, but that was not my decision.  But, everything that anyone could want to know about what I have been doing, decisions being made, and more importantly “why”, were all discussed.

This time of year has always been difficult for me as it is.  I cannot remember the last time I enjoyed a “drama free” holiday season, and I am talking about going back three decades or more.  Whether it was health, life or death, employment, tragedy, I have not had one drama free holiday season that I can remember.

So I want to take the time to actually make a rare comment about my divorce.

“I am not having a great time.”  This is genuine and sincere.  It is not sarcasm.  Receiving death threats and harassing phone calls, texts, emails, and yes, even replies to this blog… not my idea of a great time.  Being unemployed, having lost my job assignment to corporate downsizing, complicated by my health issues… not my idea of a great time.  Facing daunting court orders that I cannot meet… facing penalties such as bank accounts being frozen (no money in them anyway), passport seized (I have not been planning any trips), and many other penalties such as potentially having my driver’s license suspended (tough to get a job if I cannot drive), to possibly facing jail time (which definitely will not help me get employed to produce income to meet the court’s orders)…not my idea of a great time.  Not seeing my daughters every day, even at the least via video phone calls… not my idea of a great time.

So for those who want to say that I must be “having a great time,” you must have a warped and sick idea of what a good time is, and perhaps your life might just be worse (if that is possible) than mine.

There is a big difference between having a good time, and survival… relaxation… staying focused.  Much like I needed my marriage to adapt, I have done it as a single person.  I have learned how to do without.  I have learned how to do things that help me unwind.  I budget my time and activities accordingly.

I exercise daily, which mainly consists of a walk on the beach.  It is very convenient to where I live.  So there are no excuses.  And although I live near a beach, I am far from tanned, because other than my walks, I do not go to the beach.  There are lots of activities all over the place here, but that is not to say that I attend them.  I enjoy music because it helps me unwind from the day’s torment.  So I often pull up a seat, which are free, and just sit there, listening to the performances.  A benefit to not having a regular income, I have lost weight.

In my new home, I have developed some amazing and supportive friends, who combined with my true friends back home, give me strength.  But it is not fun whatsoever, discussing my moods from the daily divorce issues.  But because the majority of my support network here has been through divorce, some several times, there is understanding.  And these are very good people, and I know some day, I will get to have pure enjoyment with them all.  And yes, some day, someone will come up to me, and tell me what they are currently going through, and just like my friends, I will be able to tell them, “it will get better.”

But for now, every day, it is the same thing.  Wake up.  Search for job opportunities.  And wait.  Get another harassing or threatening communication.  Unwind.  Then think about tomorrow.

No, I am not having a great time.  I do not have the chance.  And if you mistake my ability to find ways to relax and survive for fun, that is on you.

Caregivers Come In All Forms


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When we think of the word “caregiver”, there is a tendency to associate it with the staff of a nursing home, or perhaps doctors and nurses.  But there are many more examples of caregivers.  Each caregiver has their own specific role.  In fact, it is possible that you may not even recognize some of the caregivers that exist.  As long as you are involved in the direct care of a sick patient, you are a caregiver.  Even pets can be caregivers.

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This was “Goldie”, a Goldendoodle.  She was also a “therapy dog” who was visiting my father during his first chemotherapy treatment for lung cancer.  I had my first experience with a therapy dog during an episode of aspiration pneumonia and had been hospitalized for several days.  When faced with a serious illness, it is very important to take care of yourself emotionally during your health crisis.

I had my first experience with pet therapy, when I went through my cancer treatment for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.  I was living in an apartment, which unfortunately did not allow dogs, but for a $25 fee, would allow a cat.  And so I wasted no time in adopting a kitten, who because of her colors, I called her “Pebbles.”  Pebbles would always greet me when I rushed home from my chemo appointments, with the same procedure every day.  Barge in through the front door, rush right past Pebbles, straight for the bathroom, collapse on the floor and begin to vomit.  Cats being curious, Pebbles placed herself in her seated pose, right at the doorway, just staring at me, kneeling beside the toilet, occasionally lifting my head from the bowl to see her staring at me.  About a half hour later, I would drag myself from the bathroom to my bedroom across the hall, crawl into my bed.  Pebbles would follow me, jump up onto the bed, and lay down next to me on my ex-wife’s pillow (first ex-wife).  She would stay there, as if protecting me, comforting me, until my ex-wife would come home.

Years later, when I would adopt my Golden Retriever “Pollo,” I would have the same hopes of having Pollo certified as a “therapy dog.”

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I would not trade the fourteen years I had with my fur friend.  For those fourteen years, he was healthy.  There was only one drawback, he was happy staying a puppy his entire life.  As far as providing therapy, it was going to be his demeanor and joy with each visitor that was going to have to be enough therapy for anyone, sick or healthy.

But later in my cancer survival, he would provide that pet therapy to me when faced with my heart surgery, and other emergency situations that required recovery, he was there for me every step of the way.  Gentle at the right moments, and letting me know when it was time to get back on my feet and get back to being his friend again.

Needless to say, it is an amazing feeling to see those wagging tails in your darkest hours.  These caregivers rarely get recognized.

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The next obvious caregivers are the doctors, nurses, technicians, and therapists.  I will do a post on their importance of caregiving later on, though their value goes without saying.

But the next caregivers that I want to talk about, are the ones who simply get thrown into that role.  Years ago, when I completed my treatments, I made the decision that I wanted to “give back” in some way, for all the support I got going through my cancer journey.  I got certified as a peer to peer counselor with the American Cancer Society in a program called “Cansurmount.”  This program matched counselors to patients, cancer to cancer.  Unfortunately, it was a program that struggled to survive itself, falling short of volunteers, and I would end up counseling patients with many other cancers.

But you do not have to be “certified” to be a caregiver.  Simply being there with a ride to transport for treatment, accompanying to a doctor visit, or just sitting and keeping the patient company classifies you as a caregiver.  Anything that makes the patient feel better, giving them comfort, shows that you care.  You are giving care.  And you make a difference.  You do not have to be an immediate family member.  You can be a parent, a sibling, a cousin, spouse, friend, a neighbor, or even just a stranger.

Depending on the need, the caregiver level has the potential to get quite involved.  And it is here, that the caregiver themselves need to make sure that they are taking care of themselves.  It is very easy to get overwhelmed with their own emotions and physical being depending on the level of commitment.

Hospice workers are one example of the importance of caregiving.  In a patient’s end of days, hospice plays a major role in making sure that not only is the patient comfortable, but also, the family is having their emotional needs met.  I had my first personal experience with hospice as my father passed away from lung cancer earlier this year.  Months later after his passing, they still call me to see how I am doing.  I tell them that I miss my dad very much, but I am doing okay.  I have had over twenty years as a counselor, and feel that I have a fairly good grip on my emotional needs.

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My most challenging role as a caregiver, was as his health proxy.  For this, I would go beyond just driving him to his appointments, sitting with him and explaining to him everything the doctors were telling him to make sure he understood all of his options and decisions.  My dad looked up to me for support, to help him get through his battle with cancer.  His one wish, “to be a survivor like my son.”

I could not do that for my dad.  I was powerless to stop and cure the cancer that would take his life.  But what I could do for him, as the cancer spread, was make sure that his wishes were followed to the letter.  It was difficult for me to make a decision, that selfishly I might not have agreed with, but was what my dad wanted.  And as the cancer cells spread to his brain, and took away his decision-making ability, my decisions made were even more critical.  I had to make sure my dad was comfortable, all the while making sure that his wishes of no extraordinary measures to keep him alive, suffering.  My dad trusted me that I would be able to separate my emotions from the task that he asked of me.

Caregivers come in all forms, and carry out all kinds of functions.  But without them, professional or familial, a patient’s journey would be even more difficult to get through.

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