Monsters In the Closet

Along the Way. . .

Experiences, Insights & Humor on the “Long Road Home”

November 1, 2021

Steven Maisenbacher

Walks On The Grass

I’m thinking this sounds crazy, but I also have given it a lot of thought, like years’ worth, and over the years I’ve come to the conclusion that as a child I did so many bad things, not because I was a bad child, but because I was doing bad things as a tool to get attention from my father that I got no other way.  Never once can I remember him paying any attention to me unless I had done something that warranted punishment.  It was like the old “just wait till your father gets home” because my mom never was the disciplinarian with us boys, always my dad. One thing was certain, if I acted up I got the belt on the butt, and my dad had an ample supply of which I know I must have dang near wore out.

I was certainly not my dad’s favorite, how could I be? I was constantly doing bad things – stealing little things, lying, sneaking around, destroying stuff, breaking things, messing with stuff I knew better than to mess with – knowing of the certain spanking I would get if I got caught, and I always got caught. Being bad was my hallmark, and my claim to my dad’s attention.

Photo by Tanya Gorelova on Pexels.com

Now, I know I deserved every bit of every spanking I got. I did some monumentally stupid things as a kid, and every time I would get the belt. Then after my punishment my dad would say, “Now I want you to know I love you and that is why I spanked you.” Then he would hug me. Those were the only times I can remember my dad telling me he loved me or him hugging me.

Humm. I believe to this moment that I did a lot of what I did just to get him to hug me and tell me he loved me because I know I never got an “I’m proud of you.” Heck, how could he be with me always being bad and getting into trouble? Never-the-less, as I reflect now as an old man, knowing all this and facing it for myself finally makes sense of things.

My dad worked hard all his life, he didn’t have time for my shenanigans and I was his only “bad” child. I’m over it and I don’t need to be bad anymore, not for anyone’s attention or any reason. So there it is. It’s all better now and I can be my true self. All those monsters in the closet, well, it took me 40 years, but I smashed ‘em. They are no more…

© Steven Maisenbacher “Walks On The Grass” 2021

Published by E.P.Dixon

I am an elder and a seeker. Many years ago I was given the honorary name, Sings Many Songs by a lifelong friend and leader of Creek, Shawnee, Cherokee, Métis descent. The name was a gift to honor my interest and prayers for his people and my work to help him restore and keep alive the rightful place of the Creek Peoples in the history and cultural fabric of the Southeastern homeland. I’m an outsider by nature, always looking through cracks in the fences of life, just trying to make sense of the world. Being an outsider can be lonely sometimes, but oh, what treasures can be found in most unexpected places. The name “Sings” began to take on a its purest meaning as I reached out for understanding and came to know some remarkable Native warriors hidden in a world of their own. As a writer and editor of sorts, my goal with Journeys of the Spirit is to give voice to two who have so enriched my life and my journey. My hope is more and more people will come to know, love, and understand these two kind and generous Native elders through their own stories, art, wisdom, knowledge, humor and insights into worlds few of us can even imagine as we follow their personal “Journeys of the Spirit.” I may also have a few worthwhile things to say from time to time, and I might even invite some other writers to share stories about their spiritual journeys.

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