Dear Moon

When I was so much younger, I told a girl I was in love with and leaving to move back to my home state, to look at the moon at night, so we can share that view. Yes, I was in love with her…and I still left. I can’t decide if I was extremely stupid, selfish, immature, desperate, afraid….lost. I think all of that and even more. I lost touch with her not soon after returning to my home. I fell into the same habits, and selfishness. Even without cell phones or social media back then, I could have, should have called her on the old fashion landline. But I didn’t. I threw her love away. Maybe I saved her the trouble of my issues years later?

We are fascinated by the moon. We write poetry, songs, sonnets, stories, myths and so on about it…or Her…or Him? I still see that face in it. I wonder if we all see that same face? We blame…Her (in my case) on weird behavior, bad decisions…or falling in love.

We feel lonely, destitute, or maybe hopeful because the reflection of the Sun at night reminds us that there will be a new day tomorrow and a chance to redeem ourselves, to try again? Or…maybe more of the same hopelessness, more of the dread returning to a place we don’t want to be at. (Toxic job, boring classes….a broken home?)

Now and then when I’m outside I look up at her, realizing that I will more than likely never leave this planet to explore what’s out there. I’m a prisoner on this asylum with so many others.

I also sometime feel comforted by her as she sails silently across the sky, and I only hear the night creatures and wind if I’m lucky. A nice late night thunderstorm in the distance is a nice bonus.

And then, on very rare occasions, does that girl I left behind ever think of me? Does she even remember me? The promise I broke? Or how I came back a year later to try and start up over again? (It was too late…)

Does she look at that moon and remember our brief time together? Is it with a small smile of better times? Or sadness? Maybe I prefer she doesn’t think of me at all.

Dear Moon, please comfort us late at night, and help us remember good memories and… help fade those bad ones. Keep shining up there as you glide silently until we drift off to sleep.

Fixer Upper

I wonder if I want to be unhappy. Maybe it’s a messed up default setting I chose. While I received excellent care from my local VA and counseling, I still drift into a negative mood at times.

I also know I’m tired a lot, not exercising enough, not eating right, drinking a little too much (when I do) and overall I tend to overthink. So I guess I just need to “delete” that previous sentence and I’m good to go. Easy right? Not really. Nope. Nada.

I am starting to realize I really am my own worst critic, and enemy. I say I am at peace. And its pretty much true. But the weight of getting up for work, an endless To-Do list at home, takes its toll on me.

The chronic aches and pains also throw me into a mood. I can’t run anymore, my incentive to do low impact exercise isn’t there.

I am seeing the benefit of writing this down. I’m forced to think, admit and commit the words to “paper”. I find solace in music, wood working…crosswords. I have improved my work/life balance to some degree. Ever since I quit being a Project Manager, I’ve been so much more happier. Maybe I should try to take those proverbial baby steps. Maybe also apply the “Postponement” therapy tools my doctor gave me.

I could tell myself….Be happy for 15 minutes, count those blessings. Trying for a full hour without my usual distractions sounds a little out of reach. My Postponement therapy works so well for some things, I still haven’t mourned the loss of my neighbor and good friend. I keep pushing down that sadness and bury it.

Sometimes I think I really try to find the bad in everything, the negatives. That’s really messed up. I take a day off, or the weekend comes and I’m already thinking “This too shall end” before it even starts. Sheesh that’s messed up.

My empathy or apathy are at odds too. I see someone I know going through a tough time, I drag myself into that situation mentally. But I also don’t care sometimes. A mental triage if you will.

Maybe I’m also burned out from the insanity of the nation right now. Such a small number of idiots in charge wasting time attacking each other. Millions of dollars chasing each other around the table trying to snag them in a lie, a conspiracy. And this is all political parties. I’m not on any side of them. I went Libertarian after being exasperated by the Main parties and their pettiness. Then I get stuck with a lunatic in my new party. (I can’t win)

I also say I have moved on from my military days, but by God I miss “that guy”. He was cocky, full of endless energy and momentum. He use to catch a random smile of a girl. But he settled down and tried to become more mature and responsible.

If you are still reading, God Bless You. Don’t let me drag you down here. I’m just venting to no one in particular. I’m not all doom and gloom. I have good moments, days, and I actually get sleep sometimes.

There are days were I laugh so hard, I wheeze and almost pass out. Holding my stomach as tears of joyment come out. Usually it’s during family game night. It’s a beautiful distraction, reset.

Maybe I should try smiling more. More postponement and less….dragging myself into that hole in my heart. I will not be that young man anymore, my loved ones will not come back down to Earth…I just need to thank God I had those times and people in my life and honor them by moving forward….smiling.

Well…here goes nothing. I will tell you how it goes. For better or worse…or Meh.

Love is Sacrifice

That was the main lesson I took away from our Pre-Marriage counseling from the priest. I think it is the main reason why strong relationships last. (My 35th anniversary is coming up) I am by no means a perfect husband or human. Show me one that is….(Aside from the Biblical ones)

Love has to have them. If only one person is sacrificing, then that’s not love or a healthy relationship. That person is only a door mat.

In marriage, both are giving up something to share the rest of the lives with someone. Dreams and plans are either cancelled, delayed or modified. My wife could of had a promising career, but once she chose to be a stay-home mom, she found a new passion. She was also freer to do other things. When I was deployed so many times, she was the rock of the family. She had to handle our children alone. And my sacrifice was being away from my family for weeks and months. I was financially supporting them from afar. That delicate balance kept us going somehow.

One of my best statements during a job interview is about sacrifice, and also about how you should love your job. Why spend 8 hours a day and 5 days a week away from your home and family if you don’t love your job? That sacrifice should have merit.

I also know humans in general are inherently selfish. So any sacrifice is a difficult road to take for some.

Daily writing prompt

What sacrifices have you made in life?

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Something Old, Something Borrowed, Something Blue.

Daily writing prompt

What’s the oldest things you’re wearing today?

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The oldest thing I am wearing today?

This look of dismay and disbelief on my face. (you weren’t expecting that one…were you?)

Just when I think people are capable of doing the right thing, or being decent human beings, someone comes along and proves otherwise.

My neighbor of 15 years passed away after being in Hospice care for 3 months. He passed away January 1st of this year. I saw him at least once if not twice a day, to support, assist, comfort, chat and fix something. I was his friend, neighbor, executive assistant, handyman, tech support…and maybe the Son he wish he had.

His own son severed contact for at least 5 years, and that only ended because he was taken to court to allow my friend to see his grand daughter again. And because he was also cashing my friend’s checks sent to him. But 5 years was an eternity and the grand daughter was poisoned by her manipulative parents.

As his father started to waste away from the illness, he finally started showing up…but only because he perceived me as a threat. (A threat to what? I have no idea) His father had a trust fund and lawyer overseeing the estate. How sad that you can’t rely on your own flesh and blood.

Now the widow, his 91-year old mother….is under his care. I tried to keep my promise to my friend before he died, I would continue to visit her…to watch over her any way that I could.

I got a call from the home care nurse a few days ago, that the wife was being moved to a nursing home. I’ve reached out to the son several times to get her new address…but nothing. My 15 year friendship has been cancelled.

I had a vague idea where she was being moved to, but I am not family. I have no power. No control. I lost another friend.

I also fear he told her in her stage 3 dementia state, that I don’t want to see her anymore.

Thus…the old, worn out look of dismay on my face that I am wearing today. And probably for a long time, for I’m sure that if not this petty little son, that someone else will pick up the torch of deceit, of selfishness and destroy the fragments of hope I try to hold onto.

My apologies if you were expecting some romantic notion that I was wearing a favorite watch, or my wedding band with amazing memories… Or a favorite shirt from my wild days.

Demolition Man

My Maternal Grandmother had a nickname for me, not sure of the spelling but it was something like:

Deicher Boo

I’ve tried search German, Dutch, Pennsylvania Dutch…with zero hits. I’m starting to think it was a well-intended version of “Devil Boy/Child”. I will not dispute it. I was a little spoiled monster in my childhood. Maybe that’s why the Universe threw so much at me at an early age.

I loved my Grandmother, even if her nickname for me was remotely true or even worse. How much did I love her? She use to make me jelly sandwiches with butter. I hated that butter on them, but I loved her so much, I never said a word.

Part of my demon child years was that I would disassemble anything that could be taken apart. Toys mostly. But I had a “passion” for taking apart my Mom’s music boxes. The mechanics of them fascinated me. I would remove the “chords” and notice how the tune changed. My toys had all kinds of moving parts…until they didn’t. They way certain sections interacted with others was amazing. It was like seeing the “Magic” inside.

I want to blame the men in my family who took their cars apart to fix them, perform engine swaps, and usually ended up destroying my swing sets used at engine hoists. My father’s last job was a machinist before he retired, so to say it was in my blood is an understatement. For I would someday swap mowing engines, and my first truck’s engine. Swapped out the trusty old Slant-6 out for a 400 cu. in. V8 that eventually caught on fire. Thus ending that phase of my life. I was literally playing with fire.

My passion for learning what made things tick led to my career in the Military. Where I got paid to take things apart (and hopefully put them back together) in working condition.

So Mom, if you are up there listening….the great Toy/Music Box Massacre of the 1970’s eventually paid off for me. So…thank you. 🙂

Lee Sun-kyun

I’m hooked on K-Dramas (Korean TV and Movies) for about two years. I’m starting to recognize some of the actors. Sadly one of them, Lee Sun-kyun, died by suicide last year. He was being investigated for drug use. I’m not condoning drug use, or other crimes, but I am sad that an artist took their own life as the pressures of his culture made that is only viable out. I’m still learning about Korea’s culture, but I know they are very strict about many things that in my country, are a joke unfortunately.

I am still devastated about the loss of Heath Ledger, Robin Williams, and several other actors who took their own lives, or overdosed. I myself overcame depression (not drug use) but I wasn’t in that dark place where taking my own life was ever considered. My worse case scenario was being banished from my home and family. I didn’t want to be around me during those dark times.

Sun-kyun was the lead actor in the movie “Parasite”. That was my first exposure to him in a role. Another thing I love about K-dramas is their soundtracks. In this case, “My Mister”, the main song caught my attention and I love it. I stream it often on my playlist.

When I read the premise of “My Mister”: “A man in his 40s withstands the weight of life. A woman in her 20s goes through different experiences, but also withstands the weight of her life. The man and woman get together to help each other.” The song and the actor’s death gave it so much more….weight.

I too struggled with the weight of life. The pressure of support my family, the stress of adjusting to a post-military career….aging, new aches and pains from my military injuries.

So I barely started the first episode and it’s already heart wrenching. I won’t spoil it, but it was really sad for the main character.

Let’s say he gets betrayed, as I have done to my own marriage. Thankfully, we survived all of that. Somehow.

It will be hard to watch this show, but I will embrace the message and the emotions as with all of my recent favorite K-drama shows.

Both Hats

Are you a leader or a follower?

I was both as some point in my life. Switched back and forth a few times. Now I’m just a lone wolf. I’m done with the “role-playing”.

Too much drama.

😜🙌🏻🎉

Life changing friend

Share a story about someone who had a positive impact on your life.

It’s easy to say it was a parent, or sibling, that impacted my life. That is usually a given.

But I had a friend in high school who suggested I go for an electronics degree. I had zero idea of what I wanted to do after graduation. Zero.

I was debating art school, but I didn’t like to be told what to draw, paint or create. Too much of an impractical free spirit.

Andrew showed me his textbooks and lab work and it actually looked fun and interesting. I also saw that it had greater potential for a career.

I also figured my electronics job would pay for my art/hobby. Artists usually become rich and famous after they died…so that was a deal breaker for me. 😉

That one piece of advice changed my whole direction in life. For even now I’m working with technology after a long break when I was a project manager.

I’m happier fixing things. I finally reconnected with Andrew after a few decades and thanked him for putting me in that path.

Career Plan

What is your career plan?

Being on “The Back 9” at this age….I plan to retire in the next 5-7 years.

After that? Woodworking for fun and maybe occasional sales.

….and sleep in, a lot.

Nomad Part 2

Throwback Thursday Memory: The Nomad

Nomad:

1. a member of a people or tribe that has no permanent abode but moves about from place to place, usually seasonally and often following a traditional route or circuit…
2. A 2-door Chevy Wagon trim-line
3. My Brother Butch (Pete)

I saw the Chevy version a few weeks ago and my thoughts went straight to my brother who loved that car. If memory serves me right, he had one. Had. During one of his runs down our main road in front of the house, the driveshaft dropped out of it…from the engine side. The car bucked up like a wild animal with sparks flying out…and I’m pretty sure he left a deep groove in the pavement.

My other memory of my brother (who passed away in 1997) was that he, himself was a Nomad. Sometimes he would settle down for a while, but something would give him a spark to move on. Whether it was jobs, states..cars..occupations. To be fair, I only know of two main ones: truck driving and carpentry. I think he jumped back and forth to compensate for when one of them would have a dry spell.
I also believe he did it to reset.
He loved, he married…was widowed (maybe one of his reasons to keep moving). He was a master carpenter. He tried his hand at everything.
When illness took him from us, his carpentry tools were passed onto me. I still have some all these years later.
I think that Nomad gene runs secretly in our family. For me, the military gave me that change of pace…change of scenery. Often. (In countless deployments…everywhere)

My restlessness, like Butch’s, is to keep creating, keep building. Another family “curse”. We have to stay active. Productive.

Some make look at his life as chaotic, or random. No…he was in control of it. He owned it. He picked which star to follow.
…or which car to drive.