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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required April 9th, 2021 birthday poem for dearly departed papa Elysian fields embraced dada's soul which rocketed into aerospace (courtesy General Electric satellite) just a tad more'n six months ago, nevertheless melancholy still plucks mine heart strings. Mine psyche still situated awry placid countenance of yours truly doth belie residual sadness easily prompted can easily trigger me to cry linkedin when grim reaper gloated October 7th, 2020 ye did somewhat peacefully die though methinks immortality I did briefly espy, when miracles of modern medicine tried, but could not stave off mortality nor fortify depredations of aging concerning one wunderkind whose accomplishments laudatory when a young handsome guy, whose intelligence scored high native talent aptitude tests did imply. The late Boyce Brandon Harris exhibited prolific talents at young age aside being scholastically gifted, acquiring graduate degree courtesy Columbia University, freshly minted mechanical engineer (he admirably ranked within uppermost percentile academically), I hashtag thy mine deceased father (a polymath - jack-of-all-trades), who possessed (née excelled) at diverse creative abilities. Aside from being schooled as mechanical engineer, (which courses in mathematics and science he passed with flying colors) his mind genetically bequeathed to craft almost anything under the sun evidenced first by yours truly, the second offspring and sole son who ofttimes felt intimidated at being in presence of said Renaissance man. Handicrafts included expending blood, sweat, and tears to craft multitude of projects; i. building me Flintstone (foot powered) car with wooden license plate. ii. making playhouse for all three of us - his progeny. iii. amassing wood pile(s), to stoke wood burning stoves iv. designing Zayda trail for Teddy and Ruff (two doggone mixed breed Border Collies rescued courtesy youngest sister at her Jacobsburg, Penna work site) v. constructing sauna in cellar, vi. etching, detailing (ala fresco), vii. plus trimming living room ceiling, viii. shingling (while fiddling) on the roof, ix. tiling the kitchen floor, x. building a cistern for brethren, xi. wood paneling many rooms, xii. building custom made toy chest, xiii. stringing up lights to increase visibility driveway lit like Christmas tree after dark, xiv. partly assembled a kayak, xv. retooling - enhancing porch (formerly slate covered), where Morris dancers performed at wedding for eldest sister. Unlike him who did beget me I experienced cognitive challenges that beset one painfully shy and severely introverted male more to the point as a lad and mediocre student to boot promotion to next highest grade occurred just by the skin of my teeth, which may help to explain why I wear dentures, oh... these choppers worn for about one sixth of mein kampf livingsocial. A sense of inadequacy prevailed, when absolute zero self esteem strikingly and suddenly manifested in tandem when parents moved their young tender family within Lower Providence School District, but into a larger house (initial summer estate constituted about one hundred acres of woodland - named Glen Elm think Winnie the Pooh - house at Pooh corner -). Not quite two score plus ten years spent livingsocial at 324 Level Road (above mentioned abode alluded), and twas there majority mine existential highs and lows, where nadir of mein kampf transpired, I emotionally hit rock bottom upon onset of prepubescence yet major event triggering mine major depression set in motion, when parents chose February 28th, 1968 to move out of shoddily constructed domicile located on Lantern Lane. As shared with Renee Cardone (the therapist whose virtual sessions linkedin courtesy Doxy.me portal - similar to Zoom), that aforementioned date marked a turning point after which time, I floundered experiencing irrevocable mental health issues punctuating my psychological equilibrium with chronic distress, though I forgive father and mother who unwittingly made decision to move.
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