Dear Emma, just a Phew! lines...

Emma Grace, my daughter. I have been thinking of you a lot of late, more than usual, I do a bit. This is a private letter,personal stuff might get aired . Someone may stumble upon this and draw it to your attention. There will be other letters, This is probably the least favoured medium with which to relate. I will do my best to compose my messages that they retain some constancy over time. Intended meaning can be eroded by partiality. I will try not to be ambiguous. If you come away from reading, bewildered or confused, try again,it means you don't get the idea. It does not mean you CAN"T get the idea. I don't expect any return for the writing.I am not trying to exert anything but a benign influence.I am moved by love, mine.I don't crave adoration.Understanding perhaps. You are in the adult world, Twentyfive years of age. You have shopped around in the world of unlimited choice, I wonder if you are any closer to the ultimate one.Iz there One? I have a chance to be a happy working family man here. The prospects are wholesome with the promise of lasting good to come.The marriage of Ann-so and I formally signifies a union that has overcome much hardship and obstruction over eleven years. All of you,(the threesome ring), used me as the Bad Hat character in the secretive movie of your various lives. So I remain, I guess in the hearts and minds of many in your domain I am a Big Bad Boogey Man. I know it was often implied in excuse,as a cover for some evident strangeness in your family. In the little contact you and I have had,not hours in thirteenyears , over several encounters. You have insisted that you could "handle" yourself. I am sure you may need to "handle" yourself in the environment you chose to work. I live along way from clubland. I know so little of your life, to be expected , the deviant "don't tell Dad" policy of your exclusively threesome lives, needs to be exposed and challenged. Idea versus Idea. For the record Emma my mental health is robust. My memory is excellent.I shout If I need, but for the most part I'm heeded, my pennyworth is not rejected. The good lasts by our subscription,when we move the good goes with us. The pennyworths mount up to be quite a chunk of useful practical experience over years,I combine that with what is good that lasts of all that was past on to me in my youth. The passion reflected in my voice may still obscure the content. Iz this a Rant? It doesn't matter if you want to think so.Wotstroo duz me well. I don't seek approval, I do the unutterable that fools may one day learn to recognise as being an act of love. I'm not dwelling in the emotional morass of sensational self indulgence of the pleasure dome. My best work has always been done when there iz peace and tranquility at home. Why anyone should wish to deprive a working man of the chance to recover after ten years of sixteen hour days iz beyond me.I only did the work Emma, I didn't waste the money. That was done most expertly by the family that locked the working man out of hearts and out of home. The "don't tell Dad" scam couldn't hide that. Working things out from given truth is easier than trying to invent a plausable story that would cover a lie. We can only try and do right . That we do,and that we may remain uncompromised and uncompromising.We aren't selling soft soap, We are doing the do. I some times come across my favourite photo of you, taken in the meadow behind woods in Oxford. You are looking up at me , into the sunshine,eyes slightly braced against the glare of the light. You are holding your straw hat in your hands as an old fashioned man would, as though in respect at a funeral. I was taking you and Toby for a walk. I was left to hold the fort while your mother attended the hospital. She wasn't physically ill. I was not approving of what she did.The photo was taken as best as I could estimate at the time of her operation. Intentionally. Not to be dumped in the same category as the many photos I have seen of young people drinking and rolling joints at parties. I treasure the memory of that little walk. The photo marks a significant moment in all our lives, a turning point. The thin end of the wedge that destroyed the marriage. The imbalance that virally infected the family, an estranged, denatured and impractical personality, an insiduous dominant dog of a thing. was only noticed initially in the physical chemistry. Too late when the deviant psychology had mutated into a "threesome exclusive organism". A "three to one majority" against all natural and positive rights of the father.I am a natural man Emma . Remember the face of an unhappy, frustrated, and unloved man . Remember too the passionate voice of anger and disaproval when confronted by defiant cultivated corruption of my family.I think it is a good idea to air the down side of the so called feminist social revolution.In the confusion, the point of liberation seems to have been missed.There is a great difference between a good man and a user friendly male, between a good woman and a user friendly female.Have you discovered it yet? A father who truly knew the answer to that wouldn't have to ask.I feel cheated.Your mum didn't know either Emma, I asked her many times. What sort of qualities would you look for.Not the bi polar girlymag black and white tick box definition,Your own. Personality, character, morality and how would you define yourself Emma to your father? There is no doubting that the secretive reality allowed my former family to compromise itself. I could never be a user friendly male, Emma.I am still not always "nice", the same things can upset me now as throughout my whole life.. Being robbed isn't "nice",nor robbing.Being lied to and lied about isn't "nice". I have been robbed Emma, as you well know.The lies that have been woven around the localised mystery of the family breakdown.The malicious practice of emotional terrorism.Using love as a weapon against it's intended purpose. The manipulative game playing. Not nice shit when one is the victim,I think you'll agree. It is to be expected then that when your dad is forced to have other peoples' rubbed in his nose,he still is likely to confront the unnice stuff in a very unnice way,like for like. When love is sacrificed for points and prizes I feel no compunction to be nice. Naturally so. I believe your mother was misguided in leaving the "Bad Hat", roles parents have equally a duty to perform solely to me. I will write more about the mysteries surrounding your family history. Why should I not be open and honest . I will post your personal response if you have one, sadly conditional on you proving your identity.Reasons being many .