Our parent’s legacy becomes legend.

We filter out the bad memories and hopefully focus on the good ones. No parent is ever perfect.

I reflect on her life and all the hardships she had to endure. A widow into her mid to late 30’s with 4 children would probably break most people. My father came into her life and gave her a 5th child. (Yours truly).

Somehow she kept going, somehow she made the best of whatever life handed her. She was the perfect hostess, making grand meals during family gatherings or a cup of coffee for her brothers at her “impromptu truck stop” in Honey Brook, Pa.

She had an amazing laugh, and buried the pain both physically and mentally.

She had some more challenging years later in life and towards the end, she came back to her Pennsylvania.

It’s fitting she was born just before Mother’s Day.

I miss your laugh, and wish I could tell you how amazing I think you were for how you kept going with all those hills and valleys in your life.

Happy Birthday Mom. ❤️

There is no perfect life

I’m not upset about this realization, or pessimistic observation, I’m just trying to accept some things.

As a child, teenager and even up until a few years ago, I would sometimes think my life wasn’t fair. That’s petty, selfish and totally illogical. If life followed a plan we wouldn’t be passionate, brave, daring, hopeful or hungry for life. We would coast allowing “the plan” to unfold. Granted some people do have everything mapped out for themselves. And their plan actually works out. But what was that price? Did they put off everything else in their journey? Did they isolate themselves to avoid drama and distractions? I dated a girl in High School and she followed her plan. Is she happy now? I think she is still alone, but maybe due to guys like me she dated, she is happier? Even when her parents divorce like mine did years before, she ignored the drama and kept focused on her end game.

Some people have zero plans. They just wake up and go with it. Either by choice, fate, apathy, mental illness, or feel there is no hope and way to change things. They just accept it. Are some of them happy? Any regrets there? I expected to have both parents and my family live forever. We would continue gathering whenever for whatever. I would stay in my birthplace state….forever. Everyone would be happy and content.

The school summer vacations would last for what felt like an entire year. The farmer next door would continue to plant crops in the field behind us, I would explore the woods every day, and build snow until I couldn’t feel my feet anymore.

Dad and I would fish quiet hidden streams, I would play with my childhood friends forever.

None of this happened. Before I was 15, all of it changed. Death, divorce, illness, moving a thousand miles away…no more change of seasons, or the comforting silence of snow on the ground. So what do I do with this “Cursed life”? Looking back at my person debris field, I see that somehow kept going. I truly do apologize for another blog post about this…. But it’s helping me, to grow, to understand, to accept and maybe…just maybe, let go of some of that history that haunts me.

I tried so hard to erase parts of me that I don’t want to revisit, remember or continue to exist with. But at the same time, that’s exactly what I do. I chain myself to the past. I gives me pause, punishment, guilt, pain, regret….It nudges me into indecision, hesitation, creates a bias.

What would I be like if “The Plan” stayed the course? Would I like the guy in the mirror? Would he have made less bad decisions, lost less friends, drank less, spend less, be more confident and less afraid? Would he have joined the military? And then see the world? Or would he have stayed in his little sleepy farm town with no urge to improve, to fight back, to make amends to himself or others? Just existing until the next page was turned for him?

Would he be this deeply morose and sometimes depressed middle-aged man trying to find purpose and the will to let things go for a change? Would his medicine cabinet have less bottles to help him get through the dark times? Would the aches and pains be less, could he sleep more that “X” amount of hours on a good night?

Or….maybe this was the plan all along. Did God plan this for me? Or is it because he obviously knows life isn’t perfect. But we have free will, we can decided how to respond to whatever comes our way. We decide the next move. Who to love, forgive, and when to let go of them when they leave us too soon.

Once I can accept that fact, and not the fallacy that I was robbed of something….maybe I can breath a little easier again, sleep another minute undisturbed.

As they say, count your blessings and not the misfortunes.

How my love for K-Dramas make me a better person

I’m pushing 60, grey hair, beard….love some 80’s rock and roll…woodworking….and watching K-Dramas.

I don’t like sports (I will watch them, but not religiously)…or follow other potentially toxic male or xenophobic venues. I’m retired military, but I’m not a gun nut. I’m concerned about our current border situation, but also remind myself daily that I am only 2nd generation American. I also remind myself that this country was built on the sweat and blood of immigrants and still continues to do so.

I also do not think America is the greatest country in the world. It’s full of potential and freedoms, but when I see my fellow countrymen act like children and show hatred towards each other based on sex, orientation, political views…or even their sports teams. (insert facepalm here)

My oldest daughter discovered and fell in love with BTS. Then the food…and the culture. My wife was close behind. Now a few years later, they are planning a trip to Korea. (And learning the language)

My post isn’t just about Korea, but it was a gateway for my perspective on the world. I already had a pretty healthy one from being deployed on both sides of the planet. There are still places I wouldn’t want to re-visit, but there are some places I wouldn’t mind moving to. I love the Brits for example, or the Canadians. The Japanese and Filipino people were so friendly. I felt more welcomed in some of these countries than in some of my visits to nearby towns or states.

Now I know any form of movie or TV show is not the “real world”, and how relationships are 24/7. But on the flip side, just like any art medium, it brings you joy, hope and promise that they are good in people, and sometimes karma does bite the toxic people in the ass eventually. 😉

I’m amazed by the way the Korean actors can show emotion on the flip of a switch. You feel their joy, pain, fears, anger and happiness. Maybe it’s because I leave the Korean language on with English subtitles. A lot of the other languages are beautiful and no level of dubbing their voices can capture the emotion of the actual actor. I am sorry, but I do have English on for German shows. It’s a hard edged language, but I still love their plot lines. I also enjoy the occasional Nordic detective shows.

Once my wife and daughter started preparing Asian dishes, I fell in love with that kind of cooking. I still love my American BBQ and fast food at times, but I really love how you can do Korean BBQ at the family table together on the table top grill. It’s the whole experience of sharing together.

Maybe one of the biggest reasons I love watching them is you to have to READ each word. You can’t look away distracted (which is very, very easy for me to do) You read every word and let it sink in. So it’s almost enjoying a good book, and show.

I am also impressed how they end each episode with a cliff-hanger usually. (and regret staying up late on a work night to squeeze in one more episode)

I also appreciate how they usually avoid nudity and sex as the base for everything. How the characters don’t jump in bed after being together for 5 minutes. (Again, not the real world, but a nice break from it)

So at the end of each emotional roller coaster episode, I want to be a better husband, friend, Dad, co-worker and human.

…and have some Korean BBQ. 🙂

Lesson Learned

In the early 80’s, everyone wore certain brands, hair styles, listened to a particular radio station, hung out in specific circles. (which has always and will be the case in any generation) As I mentioned in another post, high school was just a blur for me. I was too busy just trying to get through each day. But I also didn’t care if I did wear this or that. I didn’t care who I hung out with. I noticed 40 years later, the kids who really tried hard to fit in, or stressed on their image in school, had a difficult life after graduation. Not everyone, but quite a few I personally knew. One guy was very hip and cool, and I ran into him many years later. He was working a dead-end job, I was in my suit wearing phase due to my job at the time. I wasn’t trying to impress him, I was just in “uniform” for the clients and office environment. He was divorced, a semi-recovering alcoholic and look a little taken aback how I wasn’t the quiet kid hiding in the shadows of the school hallway. I’m not saying this to brag, just that it showed you can’t coast on what was. You have to keep pushing yourself, keep self-improving yourself. The world doesn’t care how popular you were at 17 years old, who you hung out with, or what you drove and clothing choices.

Basically you have to more than likely keep re-inventing yourself to survive, mature and grow as a human.

My personal crisis was just starting after that meeting, and it was my turn to fall apart. But….I reset, re-invented myself, accepted what life was throwing at me and kept clawing forward. I saw former bullies have a rough life, some died from excess of various things.

I’m not gloating that “I’m still here”, I’m grateful that I’m still alive and accepting who I am and still not caring about what other people think of me, and staying true to myself. Still.

Daily writing prompt

Describe something you learned in high school.

View all responses

Reverse Racist

A few years ago, I watched the action/K-Drama “Vagabond” and I never looked back. I’m addicted to their crime, horror, mystery, Rom-Com, drama based story lines. The children can act circles around most adult western actors. And both the adult and children actors can cry on command and seem like they are truly despondent or over-joyed. I’m not saying all American television is bad. But when you have X amount versions of CSI…come on…seriously? K-drama also have some common tropes, slo-mo scenes, etc. But for myself, I love every second of them. Maybe it’s also because I listen to them in the original Korean with English sub-titles which I have to give 100% attention to while watching. Dubbed voices can’t totally capture the actor’s feelings and talent. I also enjoyed a few German horror/sci-fi shows, and had to switch the the English versions because German is a harsh sounding language. I also enjoy some of the Nordic detective mystery series.

The music in K-Dramas is also amazing. Perfectly matched to the moods. My Spotify playlists is slowing adding more and more soundtracks from the shows and movies. I’ve also fell in love with Korean and other Asian themed cooking. We have an occasional tabletop BBQ in our house and it is amazing. Very filling…and lots and lots of clean-up afterwards. (But totally worth it)

While watching these shows, I become invested in the characters, I cheer for them, I curse at the villians, and laugh out loud at reactions and certain scenes. These also have perfected the cliff-hanger at the end of each episode which has led me to staying up too late for work the next morning.

My wife and oldest daughter are huge BTS fans. After seeing their talent, passion and goodwill work, I get it. They are planning a vacation trip to Korea in the near future and I’m so excited for them. I have seen the world when I was in the military, it’s their turn to travel.

One side incident is I shared a meme about those “mystery seeds” that were coming from China in the mail. My sense of humor is what it is. I shared a picture of Audrey II from The Little Shop of Horrors as a result of those mystery seeds. Unfortunately, Asian hate crimes were on the rise at that time and an old friend I use to serve with has two adopted Chinese girls. She verbally chastised me for perpetuating the stereotype. Military veterans insult EVERYONE. Even each other. She was an exception as her role in uniform kept her out of the field like the rest of us. I unfriended and blocked her.

My sense of humor is callous at times, but I don’t think of myself as a racist. I had an eye-opening experience while deployed to Pakistan during the Operation Enduring Freedom years. I had Muslim guards protecting us in our contracted housing. Which proved that not religions are evil. All I had to do was look at my own country of religious bias and hatred. The KKK for example. No one is perfect.

I have Asian neighbors who are so sweet and always giving us vegetables and other garden produce from time to time. Their son knows my sense of humor. 🙂

I’m so disappointed with some if not most of my fellow Americans. I’m only a second generation American myself. My grandparents came over from Europe in the early 1900’s for a better life. They did the whole Ellis Island process. Granted our borders are out of control right now. We just need to find a better process to letting refugees come here. Safely.

The Comedian Carlos Mencia joked about how he wished they would stop immigrants from being here so the “white people” would have to do the jobs nobody else wants to do, such as working the fields. My father worked the coal mines from age 13/14 for 22 years. The mining companies mixed the nationalities in the mines to keep them from organizing and demanding better pay and working conditions. It was almost a legalized slavery or indentured servant process.

Maybe after I retire, I would like to travel to Korean myself with my wife for her second trip in the future.

I also want her to visit England and Japan like I did. Beautiful countries, people and cultures.

I feel sorry for my fellow American with limited world perspective and tastes. There is so much out there to experience, to taste and love. Maybe there would be less hate then.

No Filter at the bottom of the bottle

My wife is out of town this week. I had all these great plans. Woodworking, catching up with war buddies…maybe some illicit rendezvous…but no.

I sometimes regret sharing this blog with people who actually know me…but no more. This is the ONLY place I can be “real”. Unfiltered, untethered, and free.

I dusted off my favorite Merlot tonight. I binged watched “Mask Girl” on Netflix. (I’m a K-Drama addict)

I think in a strong marriage you get imprinted on that person. Even with the ups and downs….you can’t live without them. I’m a hollow shell without her. All the flirting and secret text messages…with others…I miss her.

Marriage and Love is never perfect.

But if there is something there. The pull…it’s worth fighting for. Or being patient.

As I sit on the back porch in the dark..with the glass slowly draining, I ponder my theory of when my mind got extra screwed up. I’m part of a long and dragged out class action suit concerning Mefloquine. It is now a banned Malaria drug. (Look it up)

I want it to be the ground zero for ALL of my problems. Maybe it is. Maybe is just a few links in my history of trauma.

It would be be nice to blame all my faults, sins and shortcomings on one thing.

Maybe I’m just a borderline jerk/narcissist .

Or just damaged goods.

Maybe acknowledging or admitting to it is a positive step.

I don’t know…and don’t care at all 1:30 in the morning….

It’s the weekend. I get to sleep in. Cheers. I will try to be a better person today.

Try.

All, Some or None

All, Some or None

 

I miss some people a lot, a little, not at all….or AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE.

Yes, that sounds harsh but it’s the way it is.  I joined my High School Alumni page but only to see the old click still trying to grab the spotlight at times.  Or I am seeing the progress of our old building being torn down and feel….nothing.  Nothing at all.  I can barely remember most of my teachers or classes I took.

Someone commented on how The Ramp in the main common area was covered in river gravel at one point.  I have zero memory of that.

It’s kind of sad that is my history there.  Just a grey cloud.  But maybe its also good.  I know some kids “peaked” in High School and never felt that important or noticed outside the classroom door.  Maybe that’s why the shy ones, the underdogs sometimes flourish post-graduation.  Sometimes.

Some are like Uncle Rico in Napoleon Dynamite.  Trying to get that one moment back.

 Other classmates before, during and after my time there are sad and nostalgic about the demolition.

Maybe I would be too if my parents didn’t divorce and I had a “normal” life during that time. But instead I was just trying to get through each day with the promise of graduating and moving forward.  To where?  I had no idea back then.  I just know I would be able to be somewhere else, and eventually out on my own, unburdened.  Do I still blame my parents?  Maybe not.  For it forced me to grow faster and be more independent earlier in life.

I’d say more responsible…but that took longer.  😉

 I now see this trend with a lot of people and things in my life.  My military unit is a huge one.  Once I hit the 15^th anniversary of my retirement, I finally accepted that it’s over and

I could never go back.  I know that wasn’t realistic.  I was just trying to hold onto that momentum and feeling of belonging.  But I started to see the politics, drama, BS, nepotism, dirty back room deals and now…I have let it all go.  (Not the memory of the good things…just those people)  Sadly, some people I actually care about and miss are unfortunately collateral damage.

Because attending an event would involve seeing the “non-gratis people. “ 

 I’ve also worked too hard to adjust to my new “normal” and my work/life balance.  They say to cut toxic people out of your life, and it actually works.  They also say to not let people live Rent Free in your head.

I will never visit some of my old workplaces.  For they all eventually crashed and burned. Toxic culture, horrendous management…etc.  As my best friend would say: “Little Cubicle Empires”.

Even at my current job, they exist.  BUT….I somehow fell into that small niche with the total opposite outcome.  A supportive boss, co-workers and a client who “loves” us.  I also get to use my hands and mind for good and productive purposes.  I’m supporting heroes again.

 My self-imposed exile is necessary.  I’m finally happy, more or less and rediscovering myself finally.

 

Momentum

I’m ashamed to admit that I love the movie “Hot Tub Time Machine”, not for its over the top crude humor as much as it struck a nerve with me. It mostly took place in 1986. That was a very, very, VERY pivotal year in my life.

That was when I decided to join the Air Force.

One of the main character’s young 20-something nephew goes back in time with the group and see’s how wild and crazy his uncle and friends were.

He asked his uncle in one scene, “What happened to you guys?”

(Referring to the current older versions who’s lives are a mess or have dreams unfulfilled)

His uncle replies very sadly: “We had momentum…”

I pulled a simple 12 hour shift today. (We are rotating to ensure no one gets burned out)

I work my regular 8 hour days during the rest of the week. I guess we are “Essential”, which gives me a huge roller coaster of emotions at any given minute. I’m complex that way….and not necessarily a strong trait. More of an exhausting trait.
So I’m proud, humbled, angry (that many others get to “work from home”) honored, jazzed, scared, and mostly just plain tired.

“Time to make the doughnuts…” kind of tired.

Back in my military days, we pulled 12 on, 12 off for months on end. “12/12’s”

Yes I was younger back then, but then I realized there were other factors. I was with my military brothers and sisters in the field. We had each other’s backs. We didn’t cause the stress, and we faced it head-on with our arms locked and overcame all of it.
All.
Of.
It.

Think of the movie “300” without the death and 8-pack abs….

In this new world I am working in, I still have a great team, but the external factors greatly outnumber us. External factors that make this activation harder than it needs to be.

I’m sorry I tell endless “war stories” and how much I pine over the “good old days”…but you had to be there.

The other branches would gawk at us when we arrived onsite, and with little discussion or pre-deployment briefing, we would setup an entire comms site in hours and be on the air with secure communications to the other side of the world. We were on autopilot.

When something crashed or hit the fan, we also bolted into action like a complicated ballet troubleshooting, analyzing, fixing issues as the popped up…effortlessly most times.

Veteran’s experience their own version of Dog Years. We compress so much stress and emotion into a shorter period of time, that it gets into your system. Look at ANY industry where retirees literally drop dead within the first months, years of retirement. That is all they knew. They were wired for the frantic pace, the ongoing trench warfare of the mind.

As I said, you just had to be there, because….

…we had some freaking awesome momentum.

Reflection

There he was again. In the double doors at work, staring back at me. Looking tired, carrying a too much mental baggage, and at least a million miles on the odometer.

My reflection.

I pull off a smirk and a wince at the same time. Then sometimes maybe an honest to goodness smile as if to convey, we made it this far. Grey has overtaken the youthful brown. I fight back against the fading of the beard, otherwise it would be stark white and that will not do at all. I have avoided coloring the beard to an overall dark brown through-out. That way it doesn’t scream too much vanity. Keeping the salt and pepper tones matching the mop on top of my head at the very least.

I have always admired and respected men with grey highlights. I saw it as a badge of honor, portraying a history of “knowing and seeing things” on full display. Also it was seen as a sign of maturity, which I somehow dispel frequently with really bad puns and inappropriate jokes, always at the wrong time and with the wrong crowds. (Bless all of you that are still counting me as friend or part of the family)

My eyes are tired and/or droopy at times from tossing and turning during the great crusade to sleep more than 4 hours, or at least 2 hours in a row uninterrupted. My stride is still a borderline swagger, part imbalance, from whichever knee decides to take the off day. It may also be due to what we use to say when packing trucks and planes: Load Shift.

Some days I smell fresh as a summer shower, and other days like an industrial accident of heating solvents and black coffee. It’s easy to sometimes ignore the popping and creaking sounds from the framework. The constant 3,000 HZ air raid siren in my left ear helps drown it.

I remember when my medicine cabinet held only bandaids and maybe Flintstone chewables….now its a small pharmacy to alleviate, reduce, lessen or just make me not care for awhile.

Mornings are the worse. Gravity during the course of the night makes my face look like a suitcase that fell over and everything just spills out onto the ground in disarray. My hair looks like I was attacked by an electrified pitchfork and I’m getting ready to film my next scene in “One who flew over the cuckoo’s nest”. (The bath robe is a nice touch)

But as I said, I know where most of this wear and tear comes from. I see the younger generation complaining about trivial things and I just smile and look at my vast “Been There, Done That” t-shirt collection.

What was extremely important 40, 10 or even a year ago, isn’t anymore.

Looking down at my hands as I type this, I will NEVER EVER be a hand model. Maybe a spokesman for Bandaid….

It’s definitely a Monday thing. Cheers.

3 Months Later

My friend and neighbor Buck has been gone for almost the exact same amount of time when he found our that his cancer came back and was untreatable, given his age and how far that it had advanced. From October to January 1st I tried to see him every day, sometimes it was 2-3 times when he was really full of anxiety or pain. Even with 24-7 nurses at his side, he would still call me for help, advice, or just to be there. I’ve written about how selfish I have become these past few years. But with Buck, I dropped everything. I just buried a good friend from COVID at the end of October last year as well, I wasn’t there for him as I found out a week later after he already passed. I couldn’t have done much for him, as I would have thought and prayed he would pull through it. So with Buck, I made myself available. I juggled work, tasks around the house and time for him.

I called the ambulance at least twice when his night nurse was full of indecision. Those days and nights were long and trying. It was like being there for my own Father as he transitioned to an assisted living care facility. But his death occurred in a span of 2 and a half days. A medical test went wrong and he on life support until we were sure there was no coming back from it. With Buck, it was just a waiting game. He lost more and more weight, he became extremely weak, to the point he couldn’t hold the TV remote without shaking. Then he would be a in deep sleep heavily medicated. His body slowly shutting down.

New Year’s Day, the nurse called me, I ran down there and saw that he had his last breath in the past hour. I was relieved for him in a way. No more pain, no more worries.

Now I look back on this recent 3 month span. Quiet, no one needs me at that level. I’m just drifting through the days. Sometimes lost. I also mentioned before in my stories, my therapist did such a good job of teaching me how to “postpone” any negative feelings, that I still to this day, haven’t properly mourned his passing. As I typed that last sentence, the pain, loss and realization that Buck truly is gone creeps in. And my “fail-safe” method also fights it back, pushes it down into the darkness, until I’m ready to face it.

I feel numb and inhuman sometimes with this new approach to sadness and pain. Although it is effective to keep the minor things that use to set me off. I guess everything has collateral damage.

My wife flies up North next week to deal with her aging parents. Who are in denial and too stubborn to make drastic changes for their own benefit.

I hope when our time comes to make those hard choices that we will listen to our own children. Let’s see where I am in my head and heart in the next 3 months.