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STORMS ON THE ROAD WE CALL LIFE

  I so miss the sea. During my youth in Saint John,  New Brunswick, I would spend hours, sometimes days, sitting at Courtney Bay or Tin Can Beach. Especially if there was a raging storm. For no matter how severe the storms may have been they were much calmer than the storms in my mind. Often I would be under the influence of LSD. The ‘ acid ‘ enhanced the spiritual grasp of the oceans mighty clutch. Perhaps it was because I was shuttled from foster home or institutions over thirty times during my first ten years of life. I never felt like I belonged to anyone. Especially not with my real family. I never uttered the words “ Mom”  or “ Dad ” until I was an adult. They were never there for me during my adolescence. My formative years. The most important years of a child’s life. I spent a couple of years residing with my father, my stepmother, stepsister and stepbrother. However, I could not assimilate into their nuclear family. I felt distant from them.  Much like a wat...