Semper fidelis (always faithful)

There were times, yes, when I held the belief that help would not arrive soon enough to ease the onslaught of sorrow, inevitably to come. I stayed...frozen on that dock, the dock just beyond the pavement of my childhood homes' touch, waiting with great anticipation for heavens will to yield its answer onto me.

I couldn't have been forsaken.

Not at this juncture.

When the initial dreams swept over fear consumed .

I wanted to run, not out of negligence mind you; but out of sense of loyalty, loyalty to the life led thus far.

Not desiring change I remained steadfast in the belief that the calling had been meant for another, surely not one such as I.

Who was I after all to take on the responsibility of heavens will?

Yet here I stood, waiting for further instruction...

Where was the one that they'd send?

No one here but a lone fisherman, a bum by immediate appearance.

He turned, speaking to me in such a manner that it was obvious that he was not of this place...

From there to here I listened with intent; the mysteries of the Dire unfolding before me

I had heard whispers of the lycan many years prior as a young boy

many a sleepless night spent restless by the howling some where off in the distance...

He spoke of her...

She who would come to render insight and help to further the cause of locating and eradicating the general population of the disease of the Elder

I truly didn't wish to open my mind to the possibility

of becoming their warrior...

I realised love; seized it

And that had taken a lifetime to accomplish

I was to risk it all to raise heavy sword in hand

wield the years of self to slay what heaven itself could no longer control

A birthright handed down generation to generation

now resting in my hands

simply

but with great resolution

I nodded in acceptance

what else could I do?

I silently prayed (as I took my leave from the heavenly apparition) that she'd find it in her heart to comprehend what I had been forged to do

she'd know faith in me

as I held faith in her love...

Faith.

It's all we have sometimes...

#################################################

He wasn't my white horse.

There were days, days like today where I fell to his feet in tears of frustration, not knowing what I could possibly utter

to make this alright

for him

never me

because he isn't listening...

My life was over quite some time ago.

I live/survive purely on borrowed time... this I've known for many years.

I thought to apologize before I left yet again, but to what end?

He'd eventually find me and claim to have changed, forgiven, he'd steal more of the time running through the sift of now

The perfect thing to say

just when I needed to hear it

I suppose

The past is gone, or so I'd respond as my soul ached for a righteous path to cross over to, to redeem all of the waiting

knowing the outcome would surely rob me of a present

destroy all that I held onto

currently

He often questioned my faith

faithful

not faithful

somewhere between obsession and the stir of a drink

I had to explain things I honestly didn't/couldn't understand

I ran for the coast

dreamt about it once or twice

saw the blade glimmer etched in a battle that seemed to be of an esoteric nature

this opened volumes of past pages read in the novel playing in my mind nightly

one by one

the clues would lead me to the blood stained dock

if only I could find the place just now, I'd have a momentary block of trepidation

I raced like a bullet across the beach sand, hated its feel, loved the waters welcome

I took pause to weep

I'm faithful I thought

painful to be under the gun

shot to this point

but I'd go

he needed my help, that was the directive

I always followed where ever my dreams led

yeah

the fisherman told me that this was the place

I didn't want to be the fugitive here, restless and looking for aim

but there didn't seem to be a choice

this was heavens will

made decisive yesterday

or at least half way

it fell upon my shoulders suddenly, with a thud.

Heavens brightness blinded my eyes

I blinked

regretfully

he caused me to raise my voice in exclamation, never having the time to explain

my head turned

I suppose that's why I never heard; listened

The howling startled the senses

perhaps it was as always, canine running after me... an occurrence that felt oddly enough familiar to this setting.

I laughed as I recalled the legend of the lycan.

Born to be a werewolf surely, I thought.

Smiled as I intuitively knew that they were better kept to mind...

I wondered as I finally stumbled upon the dock, would he finally see my faith to its natural fruition?

Here, before me, was the script...

I read it

faithfully...

##################

excerpt from book 5, in the Pater Nostras series...

##############

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Kotah 21999

It occurred to me, as I sit down to write this, that no one but myself remembers today, 12 years ago.

It was a typical day, nice, cold out though. Went with my family up further North, in Maine to take a break. Shop, eat at taco bell.

I wasn't too hungry, couldn't tell you what I had to eat, but that I was happy. Motley Crue had been blasting on the car radio, the baby (inside of me) was bouncing around.

I recall thinking that he was going to be some kind of rocker...or at the least he had good taste is drive around jams.

That evening my back began to hurt, I felt ill ease.

By 2:20 am he'd be gone to this life and mine would be irrevocably changed forever.

I fought to die.

I never, never wanted him to be alone in death, honestly feeling that I had let him down by surviving.

I remember that the mere mention of his tiny body being placed into the morgue sent my thoughts directly to his comfort.

Had I dressed him in something that would keep his body warm enough?

How could I, in good conscious be at home while he awaited cremation?

Well, that was 12 years ago tomorrow.

Today I'm wondering... has his death held up its meaning?

It has for me.

I re read the journal set back in time, February 19th 1999...

Recognition.

In truth we haven't changed, only the circumstances have.

People, I find, never do really change, they evolve.

But the core of who we are remains, good or bad.

For years I didn't read what had been written; feeling that it wasn't true, just ramblings of an extremely hurt woman.

Today, I held the strength. Held up by the man who was sent to save my life.

When all seemed at the darkest hour he didn't give up, never wavered, simply loved...

brought the light back without un necessary pity or undue empathy

just did what a husband would do for a wife.

Made certain that he was there, loving me through it.

Dakotah would've been pleased.

He would've cheered me on for finally relinquishing and letting go and afford latitude proper to form a healthy and solid relationship.

That is a difficult line to cross, recognizing that when you truly, and I mean truly love someone you let go.

Give them the opportunity to know love, even if it is not derived from you.

Your heart can bear the pain if the one you love finds their soul embraced.

When I met him, I knew. He loved completely, hadn't the emotional baggage to dull his senses.

One of the first things...he placed his hands on either side of my face, told me that he had fallen in love with me and that he'd never hurt me.

His truth was me, he was mine.

As I lost everything, one by one, I stopped, took the time to remember that this was exactly how I felt when Dakotah died.

The loss was insurmountable, but my love for my son hadn't wavered.

I found a way to live.

I found a way to work towards my dreams.

Even being told daily that I could not write my novels, I went on to write 8.

I learned from him.

I never wanted his existence to not realize some type of potential.

We all need to remember those times in our lives, less we become destined to repeat failures.

If you had asked me 12 years ago if I had known...

I have no answer, other than I haven't the time to regret.

I do look on to the morrow knowing that the man who stands is here, by my side and isn't faltering.

There are no journal entries foreshadowing of a life soon lost to cruelty or misfortune.

Dakotah gave us all hope for the future, his brother came and established that the impossible could be

his sister followed and brought back laughter

So here I am.

Half of my life is beauty, solid, happy for the first time in my life.

Some days deeply saddened that I waited so long to know what real love felt like

The other half lies in stasis

held by the man who claimed to love eternally.

Apparently that only applies to conditional compliance.

Well my life is my own.

I imagine that I alone will carry on with the memory having been blessed with the time bestowed upon me

the knowledge that I used the memory to better myself and those relationships around me.

As my good friend John said to me "you can give away your happiness to those who would see you hurt, or you can turn away and live happily in spite of them"

I believe that he is right.

I go to his grave site on the morrow with no regret.

Only love for the son who changed my life for the better.

======================================

On a lighter note, we are having our first book signing in Dallas March 10th and former president George W Bush is to attend.

Very excited to attend and shake hands.

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

6397

We are but simple revelations to the moments presented to us.

Some faulter, others remain decisive

The difference miles apart from expectation

Fool to believe that by going back in time he'd know me

Dreams unrealized, frustrated by circumstance

shields the unveiling of knowledge while fueling curiosity

Still he persisted...consequence of little or no concern

The center of attention alone in the crowd

writing thoughts down that yielded no revelations

the truth held back, tightly vested and guarded by private counsel

the great orator who would choose to say nothing

yet intently listened to

Where do you go when your wishes take flight?

Whether in Rome or right here in Texas I simply remain.

He poses himself to gain all that he has lost

reclaim with wit, charm and manipulation

tools in an arsenal, readying himself for a hushed battle to win an imaginary war

Avenues

corners where we'd hide our true selves

light shed

would serve no real purpose now

still you'd seek

if nothing else then for minuscule comprehension

The truth lies somewhere between action/vacillation

We open windows knowing inherently that this will cause doors to slam shut

rarely do we take the time, the effort to peer through

After the dust settles

the dirt still remains callously ignored; lying perilously onto the floor

Given wings we take flight

soaring towards the burst of sky awaiting

or crash back to earth...decimating the belief that we are able to achieve

So many believe that I travel merely to leave behind

I haven't left yet

When I do go,

and I will go

my life will still be mine

belonging to fates desire alone.

======================

I hope that your week was a tastic one, that all of your dreams don't lie in stasis

that you set your priorities and actively seek to achieve them;

if not, then they shall only remain as dreams yeh?

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer Saint Andrews

Solum Gratia (only by grace)

No one asked me how I felt.

True, I've been gone to all of you for 12 years now, but I too was your child.

I heard my father remark that I had come to him in a dream and informed him that he could do the things that he's doing.

Surely I'd never desire, even in my dismay, to hurt anyone.

The last words I heard spoken were ones in anger

loud yelling

as my great grandmother held the hand of my mother as I came to meet my untimely death

I am of the two of you

not of one

I wouldn't want this

were I there I'd stop you

call you to reason

Dad, you feel as though you've lost control over your life

so your controlling everything that you can

beyond sensibility

I wish that I could bring you back to the extreme effort that it took to bring my brother and sister

to life

remind you that you could not have done the impossible

not without mom

And you cannot do what is needed completely on your own now

not because of capabilities

but because she exists

and they love

undefined by you

and beyond the reach of your hatred

I'm confused how you can pray to me

speak to me

profess your undying love for me

while simultaneously disregarding the grief that she felt

grief that nearly brought her into death with my lifeless body

her love realizing that depth

while you stood back, angered at having been awaken the night of my death

My mothers love,

like the love she holds for those who live past me remains true

you know this

yet deny my siblings simple human decency

You rationalize your actions by her reaction to your blatant disregard to her person

She's fierce

stood up

healed herself and moved on with the future

You stood frozen

closed your eyes

hoping that it would all go away

without work

without trying

You're not as angry at her

as you are yourself

because deep down you know the truth

she was loyal

she loved with everything that she had

and you squandered your time with hatred masked in inadequacy

always relying on blame to pull you through

I'm watching

feeling disgrace that my father would harm my mother

I love her

I love you

but I can't see through the haze of darkness where you dwell in

to shine light on your sorrow

You used my memory to hurt her

the only one who felt me

who knew me

who comes to me often

with no malice in her heart for you

and yet beg me to guide

I cannot guide

where you are not willing to be lead

You're fighting the wrong fight

with the wrong person

Yes, you have the ability to do extreme harm

and have done your best to do so

but you also possess the ability to face yourself and heal what was broken within

No one took anything away from you

that you didn't turn away from

time and time again

pushed away

damaged with emotional abuse

So now they scatter

and run from you

as will the others

once they grow to realize the truth

Your belief is that in maintaining control they will see you in the light that you, in your heart of hearts wish to believe is the real you

without change

introspection

this won't take place

Dark is dark unless infused by light

You cannot love unconditionally

if you deny the half of the whole

I am of her

I am of you

and so are they

Innocents

who are harmed by circumstance

no paper will resolve

repair

merely release

with closure begins no healing for the man who would never tire of the endless attention via the sorrow

For all of your years you remained alone

relying on my mom, your best friend

to provide you with her friends

her life

none from employment

none of your family

or your past

Not a coincidence

merely a convenient excuse

"The world is against me"

You told my mother that you hated who she had become

after she healed

from the pain that you put her through

and just when she recovered

you began a campaign of terror upon her person

violating even the most sacred of trust

Not something that you mention

as you pray for grace

I see the pity

I see the blind empathy

the retribution and moral judgements

with no voice of reason

that one things stands truer than all;

you led her down the very same path where she flourishes now

You condemned her to a loveless, hate inspired life of darkness

when the tears of pain spring to your eyes

consider the years of sorrow that flooded her;

the emotion that she begged you to show

and was denied

So you would call to me

your son

to hate

to follow you

when it is not my way

I was born of love

died loved

exist in a beloved memory

I'd no sooner cease loving

than return onto a embittered individual

If I could speak so that you could hear

it would be words of forgiveness

this for all

A pressing forward

I am not in your dreams

I am not apart of revenge

I cast no light in this room

I ask of you

let it go

hold onto what you do have, but not exclusively

this is not the fight of a righteous man

this is the fight of a desperate, bitter man

and that

is not who I loved

You were conditional to those I hold dearest in my heart

their words of unconditional love for me incinerated with me, taken with my soul

how I ache to hear you tell them that it was a lie all along

that you only loved by condition

damage I fear that will never diminish over time

You would admonish any who would take the path that you are on now

as you receive validation by those who have offered you nothing but pain in the past

this

this is whom advises you now

I believed you to be smarter, better than this

the man who you've become

No father of mine would do/say such things

no

my father would reach beyond

recognize that he'd gone too far

pick up the phone and do the right thing

set aside his pride

even if that was all he had left

truth being that you will be abandoned in the end

by these actions that you take now

Truth has a way of returning

teaching us a lesson

I stand by your bed

I now shout

you hear nothing

yet you pray for Prevenient Grace

I fully understand why she ran

and while others may not

all along she knew that you would never cease the harm

there was no affair

no deception

you knew years ago.

She told you time after time

but again

you refused to listen

it wasn't worthy of addressing

so you left emotionally

and she is left with the blame

the scars

He doesn't hurt her you know

loves with no condition

he has eased her mind in completion

with the grace that she so prayed for

So you'll continue to hurt her

in the only way that you can

punish her for not being a willing participant in your dark life

by claiming all that you are able

hold and crush the innocent souls who need their mother

you'd see them lack

for your satisfaction

He'll see that she survives this

he'll replace her nightmares with dreams

and he'll hear me

because I want her to be happy;

I love her that much

Daddy

you're hurting us all

because you don't want to be alone in your pain

On the anniversary of my death

she'll be there

as she always returns

year after year

will you?

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Well, the second edition is to come out soon (of the Garrison Effect) very exciting to see it reach fruition!

Johns done quite a great job switching the publishing etc.

It's a learning process so bear with us as we take this journey along side.

I hope that your New Year celebration was wonderful and that you are blessed with a great year ahead.

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

"Saudade"

By chance I ran into a friend of hers several weeks back. As we spoke, it became abundantly clear to me that I had understated her circumstance (in my mind) to that of the minor ilk.

I hadn't (previously) known the motivation to intervene.

In speaking with her personally she hadn't revealed anything truly alarming to myself- I suppose minimizing the pain for my benefit?

She was like that you know?

Consistently energetic, known for verbosity yet intensely private and elusive.

Life's definition had been ripped from her heart leaving her feeling displaced and irrevocably harmed, defenseless.

She, like myself had lived as pirates...free and unconventionally.

It tugged at me...I wanted to help, chalked it up to poor timing, scheduling conflicts...

Not for lack of compassion.

I keenly understood what despair could do to a person- I had suffered with similarity in my own situation.

We didn't hold a transitory relationship; I believed her and I to be solid, we loved one another.

Never, not for a second, did I ever imagine that I'd be wearing my best black suit to see her again other than for a black tie event...

Yet this was just like her wasn't it?

Full of surprise, the unexpected came onto anyone within the vicinity of her person...made her laugh to think of it.

She was loyal to a fault, she was unconditional love in its purist sense.

In retrospect we all have our breaking point, hers simply came quietly in the night...

I thought

I thought that she could 'muddle' through...

This I recalled as I reached down to take hold of her hand...one last time.

She spoke of her desire to return home quite often, yet had nowhere to go; figuring that a backpack and a smile and she'd find it someday.

Off handily she'd speak of a song resonating, drenching shattered dreams to distraction.

Long ago she'd ceased mention of the nightmares.

She held doubt that in the sharing of the terror "held any merit, serving no purpose" she'd remark, drop the subject for discussion of the obscure.

Everyone wanted her to fight mightily, as she was prone to do...

The detractors, those who held unyielding adoration were all left unsettled by her lack of conviction.

But I had known.

One text received "I need help" had arrived.

In retrospect she had mentioned feeling lost, hurting.

It's what she no longer spoke of that should've had us all collectively disturbed.

The future.

Come to think of it, the generosity of speech had steadily declined.

Providence, Prevenient Grace; ideals that all waylaid just beyond the grasp of her capture...

She used to state that to have her dreams would be to live the nightmare...

This she could achieve with internal strength, not broken.

No one counts on being broken when their life's terror suddenly becomes a reality...

I didn't give a damn when the tears came to me, rushing freely past all of the emotional barriers that I held up to the world, I simply wanted to wake her...

Have a righteous dispute over her causing me this never ending grief, knowing full well that any argument with her would've been a day completely spent fighting for a word in edge wise.

I should've known better...

I did know...just didn't accept it.

She couldn't save herself, refused to quit. Resigned to death by his hands.

At that moment I hated her for allowing it.

I could not comprehend, despised her for the fragility.

She was a grown, mature woman with a child's heart who desperately required a father figure for the remainder of her life.

There could be no partnership, that ship had sailed far too often in her mind...

I visit the site often, mostly alone with my anger, fury over the mindless loss.

I allowed my life to supersede that of hers, someone that I truly loved.

"I could have stopped, prevented this" words that scream from the cold, unyielding dirt.

She wouldn't have afforded but a select few to take hold and seize her life, claim her heart and shield her from the world...

But regrettably I knew that I was one of these individuals.

Rare.

I had access, I certainly held the latitude with the propensity to alter the outcome...

The bias lie in my firm belief that I lived a life of content.

Merely content.

I had nothing to lose, everything to gain.

I was well aware of who she was, what she meant to this world- specifically her place in it.

She never had the choice

because I never offered a viable solution.

I miss her.

I believe that I always will...

============================================================

Death has a profound effect on us all, inparticularly when one passes during the holidays.

May you keep your friends in your heart, close in spirit and with the knowledge that you love them to carry them through...

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Mors ultima linea rerum est (death is everythings final limit)

The first book that I signed and eagerly handed away to was Bob. Bobby to some friends, so I have heard. I didn't have the pleasure of knowing him for very long, he was running out of time...

I listened alot, watched him with others. He was unique, a marvel in this sometimes bleak world of ours.

Bob made you laugh.

His past was chalk full of color.

Derived from any subject arose a hell of a story, as a writer I sat back and often thought "wow" how lucky am I to be hearing this?

Bob wasn't simply loved. He was adored, and I remark openly that there is a vast difference between the two.

Cantankerous he surely was, though even in this he amused and delighted with his wit.

My son believed him to be Bob Segar because he rode a motorcycle and held himself with such a demeanor as one would feel that larger than life presence- even to a 5 year old.

This made him laugh.

His best friend shared many stories of him and watching the two together was a wonder...

The sentences that didn't quite complete themselves before the laughter ensued.

The depth of caring that only the very best of friends know...

His wife counted everyday as a blessing and openly said so- to which he'd reply "yeah, me too" except his eyes danced when he said it, and he meant it.

He loved her with more than promise, with a true, open heart.

He pseudo daughter who lives next door would visit with him as time allowed- always making the time.

Funny thing about Bob.

He held full comprehension of time- its demise to friendships, family and the heart.

So he rushed towards the embrace of it all.

The call came in around 5 am.

You know the call that no one ever wants to hold to their ear

"It's Bob"

I watched as one by one family and friends raced against the clock to be there for Bob.

That rapidly turned into a rush to be there to say goodbye.

His daughter in law though devastated held his hand, warmed him- as he detested being cold. She raised his spirit and of those in the room by her words of conversation to him.

Bob would've smiled.

Probably laughed.

Bobs sister was angry. Life was leaving her beloved brother, and the unfairness of it all brought anger to the surface. She wanted to fight for him, just wake him up from the stasis. How dare he leave us all.

I understood.

I would've fought for a love like that as well we all would.

Bob would've been proud.

Bobs brother and cousin stoically held everyone up and connected with the gatherers.

They loved this man and between the tears and pain

laughed at the past revels.

Who else would laugh with you as you found your peace?

Only brothers, only shared hearts.

His sons were amazing.

They provided their step mother with respect, dignity

and their father?

A most brilliant release.

Their love was evident in the sorrow,

honest in their grief

and the depth of love which would be carried on through they two

Witnessing this

you just knew that Bobs heart wasn't going anywhere.

When the love of his life said her goodbyes

through the door the guttural sobbing took us all to that place where no one, and I mean no one ever desires to go to.

Love is funny that way

bringing us life one moment

than killing us in the next.

Bob lived his life to the fullest

he loved. No I mean it. HE LOVED.

We all looked on as the nurse proclaimed that he was gone.

I don't believe that anyone who knew him bought into that.

How could they?

Sure, his body had been relinquished to death

but his heart?

No way.

Hell no.

If anyone could get out of this one, surely it was this man.

He didn't believe in heaven per say, but what he did believe in was the here and now.

Here, he made a better place

Now, a saddened one.

But tomorrow?

I'm fairly certain that we'll all see him revel,

live on through everyone that he touched throughout his life, and of those there were many.

As we all began to leave the room, the consensus was unanimous.

We were all lucky, in different measure.

Some had years

some a few weeks

some a lifetime

but wasn't grand?

Wasn't it a grand life Bob?

Opus Dei

(The work of God)

Blessed are we to have shared your last breath.

from my hand to yours,

deeply saddened,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews

Dimitte Praeterita

Transitional life isn't for me...

I saw you long before you knelt

proclaiming the stay;

the way of it all

I stood corrected

stunned at the revelation

of you

To those in your extensive past

you were better served as a vague memory

To me

the strength provided

presented me with the future

one that would prove to be all encompassing

We ran straight into one another

fearlessly

Beauty radiates

not always where we'd expect

as I soon discovered

just after the rendition revealed itself

I'm often asked if I'd do it all again-

any regrets?

I've a few

however our pasts dictate who we become

to change that

alters the path

"Dimitte Praeterita"

Letting go, leaving things behind to forge ahead

learning

bruising

forgetting to believe

losing infinite hope

yet somehow persevering

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Hopefully you've logged on to authorhouse.com and ordered your copy of the first book in the Pater Nostras series, The Garrison Effect. While the title had been switched (to Pater Nostras Canis Dirus) the first installment is well worth the read.

A great mind vacation...

Here's a clip from book two that may help enlighten you on the "why" in the title etc.

About the series:

"Pater Nostras Canis Dirus" or what is commonly referred to as "The Dire series" are a compilation of 10 novels.

Beginning with explanation of the title PNCD a latin reference to "our father (of) the Dire wolf".

This occurred by directive of my son Sage who desired definitive knowledge of werewolves, not the current lure resonating within the general population at large.

Hence birthed "The Garrison Effect", novel one.

This provided the first glimpse into the true origin of the (lycan) Dire as seen through Garrison Hastings eyes. We journey from the 1100's to present day, acquiring knowledge of all that it is Dire.

In the second installment, the novel "93 Kilometers to the better" we find the descendants of the original Dire realizing their destiny, thereby becoming wolf.

Old meets new.

The weave of this tale begets action in both Texas and amongst the Highlands of Scotland. Join us, quench your thirst for the knowledge...

feed your hunger with the tell, the unprecedented insight into the lives that had previously only existed in the shadows...

Learn what it is to be Dire...

Feel the exhilaration of immortality

the immense power...

Placed in their respective order:

"The Pater Nostras Canis Dirus" (The Dire wolf series)

"The Garrison Effect"

"93 Kilometers to the Better"

"The Dire"

"Cross Dominance"

"I am Tagon"

"Bristoll"

"The Mongrels"

"Rafeal Ab Initio" (From the beginning)

"Rafeal Ab Antiquo" (From the Ancient)

"Rafeal Ab Aeterno" (From the Eternal)

"Luce"

I hope that your holiday was wonderful and blessed!

From my hand to yours,

Sawyer

Saint Andrews