Hello, again! (My Father’s Day 2022 Post)

Wow. I just realized its been almost 3 years since I was last on this site. I can’t believe how time has flown away from me so fast. It seems like only yesterday I was blogging here about all the cool things I thought about. But when I just logged in, I realized my last post was from 2019. That was pre-covid! That was so long ago I should have easily spotted the new changes around me. But I haven’t. Basically, for the last 3 years or so I’ve really been kinda fading out of reality!

But now that has changed. For a long time, I really wasn’t able to get online like I used to daily, when I was a working man. You see, I have a Chronic Compression Fracture in my back that pretty much rewrote the last few years of my life. After taking forever and a day to get approved on Disability, everything finally started going right about a year or so ago.

Since then, I have basically done just what I have to on a day to day basis, just to survive another day. You really don’t know what you’re missing out on until you have time to stop and really reflect on it, which has happened to me this weekend. I don’t know exactly why, but this weekend has been, ah, more of a “Soul Review” than a “Soul Search”. Im getting quite good at surprising myself with the amount of pure, honest to God, regular knowledge that I gained while I wasn’t even looking for it. This afternoon, I was thinking of my Dad, and how much I really miss him. He’s been gone for almost 16 years now. And I still wish every day I could pick up the phone and give him a call. But I can’t. Haven’t been able to in a very long time. 16 years actually. But this Father’s Day has had me reminiscing about the past, and about how much my life has changed since he passed away.

This started out as a simple Father’s Day remembrance, but over the course of the last couple of hours it has become so much more. I’m really finding it cathartic about so many other things other than just me missing my Dad. And I really wish he were here now to have experienced these things with me. But he isn’t, so in my own way, this writing is what I would like to have told him today, if he were still alive. I really hope that there are computers in heaven, because I so want him to see this post.

A-hem. Ok, the first thing that struck me was the fact that the most defining parts of my life have occurred since he passed away. Up until recently I would have told you, had you asked, that the most defining parts of my life were when I was a child, growing up in a divorced household, and that my most formative years came when I was learning to be an adult and start my own life on its inevitable path. From the time that I was, say, 20 – 30, that was the answer I’d give if asked the question. But suddenly, I’m 48, on the cusp of becoming 49 (in November) of this year. I’ve almost made it through a full HALF CENTURY. My, God, where did the time go? And really thinking about it, I have to admit that though my early years were crucial to my being me, the most formidable shaping occurrences have happened since I passed the 30 year mark. I really do think (now) that the most fun 1/3 of your life will be in your late teens til your late 20’s. After about 25, things really start to settle in. Mind you, I m not saying that where I am now is anywhere near the end, but it is a much wiser and stoical position from which to view myself that my “roaring 20’s”. By the way, why is it that all of the twenties (for sure the 19xx and 20xx, and maybe the 18xx)’s are always referred to with that sound? Does most of the auditory and inventory action of each century come into be in its twentieth year? I guess that would make sense…

But I digress. And now I have to get back on topic, because there really is something I want to say before I blow out this candle and head for bed tonight. So, I’ll try to not let my train of thought jump too many tracks. And so, back to my original reason I felt compelled to write this down tonight.

I have learned through the most aggressive teacher of all, experience, that no matter how you plan your life in its early stages, no matter how many hopes and dreams you think you just cannot live without, no matter how much you have to fight against the regime in charge to get what you want, most of that disintegrates from your life after you pass 30. I know the reason. Because at around 30 you actually grow up, and start trading out your fantasies for what they will inevitably become – the stark raving truth. It just so happens that at that time in my life, around the ~35 year mark, was when I lost my Dad, indubitably and forever. I thought that life was finally settling down and things were going just like they should about that time, but little did I know about how much of a shakeup was going to happen to me between then and now.

When my Dad passed away in 2006, he passed away just a few months before I started my dream job. In 2006, I became the IT manager for a pretty big production company in a town about 30 minutes away from where I have always lived, here in Louisville, MS. Before that, I had come up through the years starting as a convienice store clerk that I worked at all through high school, then moving on to Grocery Retail during my college years (I managed the local grocery store’s Deli and Bakery during this time. Yes, I actually used to cook. And it was usually good. I’ve even knocked out a few very special Cakes in my time, for Birthdays, Anniversaries, and Weddings. ) In the mid-nineties, I lucked out and got a job as a computer operator and eventually programmer for another local manufacturing company, and I started my career in the IT profession. For almost a decade I worked at that company. During which time I (very briefly) got married and (very very quickly) got divorced. No kids. No partner. Nobody but me. Alone against the world, because I couldn’t trust anyone in the world to let my guard down around again. After leaving my first IT computer programming position, which was a very big deal at the time in the town where I live, I actually worked for a couple of independent computer programming companies. I started to travel the world with one of them for a bit, flying out to California and Oregon, and places very mid and west of Mississippi, and I was starting to realize just how big life could be. After 4 or 5 years of this, I landed my dream job, as IT manager at the production company one town over, and I thought my life was set. My Dad was alive through all of this, and he was a constant supporter of me and whatever I wanted to do. He and my Mom had divorced when I was around 7 or 8 years old. Both remarried. After a train wreck of a time trying to spend split custody of me (Mom during the week, Dad every other weekend and two weeks in the summer), during which my new step mom turned out to be more of a monster than I could have ever realized, I stopped going to Dad’s at all. I lived the rest of my childhood until graduation, not seeing my Dad but once, when my paternal Grandmother passed away. I think I was a Junior in High School, then. After that, I did’t see him until the day I graduated. Because of reasons, I just couldn’t go be around him and his new wife, and I learned to live with that.

But things changed when I reached my early 20’s. And yes, I swear, most of them were roaring. Quite loudly, in fact. I got married to the first girl I ever loved, was betrayed by her within a year, and my divorce became final almost 11 months after the ink on the marriage certificate dried. During this time, my Dad actually reached out to me. He started making the effort to come by as often as he could, when he could, which was about once a month or so. He spent his adult life as a Master Sargent in the Army, and he was over the mechanics at Camp Shelby until he died. During this time, even though we were only getting together about once a month (he’d come stay at my house on drill weekends for his assigned regiment) he made it a point to call me every Sunday. Sunday was the day that we would catch up on the week before, and give each other the low down on how life in our respected areas was going. I had gotten so used to this that after he passed away, I still picked up my phone every Sunday morning for about 4 months or so after he passed, because I couldn’t believe he was really gone. During this time I was the closest I’d ever been to the man who gave me life. And I was loving every minute of it.

But in 2006, at tragic accident at home took him from me. It happened over Memorial Day weekend. Not going into too much detail, but my Dad got burned. Badly. He didn’t make it all the way from the transfer of the hospital in Hattiesburg to the Birmingham burn center. When I was notified about what happened, I immediately left town heading for Birmingham in my neighboring state of Alabama. Unfortunately, he expired before the chopper landed. He was gone before I ever got anywhere near the hospital. All of his (my) family were there as the chopper landed. But it was still a couple of hours later before I could get there on the ground, even racing at 80 miles an hour on most of I20. When I got there, the doctor took me into a side room. All of his (my) family had just left to get something to eat and a hotel for the night before trying to get back home. They had all gone in and saw him. The Doctor told me that if I really wanted to, he could take me back to see him, but was so devastated at the time I just couldn’t bear it. They say he was burned so badly he was unrecognizable. I couldn’t imagine what that had been like.

So, I left the hospital and drove straight back home, a little over two hours away. His residence was an even longer two hours’ drive past where I stopped, and the next 3 or 4 days were really a blur. I remember it somewhat vividly, yet at the same time I still have vague impressions of it. Even now I may hear someone mention something that happened at that time on or around the anniversary of his death that I did’t know. I mean, I’m sure I did, but at the time I couldn’t quite process it all.

That was in September of 2006. At the time in my life that I was actually connecting with my Dad, he was ripped away from me again, rather permanently this time. I have a couple of younger brothers whom I love dearly (one of which has given me the best nieces in the absolute world) who got so much more time with him than I did. I was the only child between my Mom and Dad. One thing he instilled in me was the belief that even though we had not had much time together, he wasn’t as worried about me (as if I could get into trouble) as he was my brothers, because he told me that he’d always known that I knew right from wrong, and would always make the right choice. I don’t know why he felt this way, but he told me this one time when we were talking about all the time he and I had missed out on together. God, how I wish he was just a phone call away now like he was back then. Absence and time only make the wound a little less ragged and sharp, but the wound is still there. It doesn’t ever go completely away.

I look back at the man I was then, and think – “where the Hell did he go?”. At that point in time I thought I was going to have it all, and damn the consequences. I was never gonna stop moving, let alone take time to actually sit still. I’m glad my Dad knew me in the best of the vibrance of my youth. I just wish he were still here today to see me as the wizened old soul that I have become.

Shortly after his death in September of 2006, I landed my dream job in November of 2006. I became part of the “Corporate Machine” – I was an influential member of a society I didn’t even know existed before. And I was good at it. For the next seven or so years, I rode the gravy train of life. Then, in my late 30’s I became more – how do I say, hyperactive? When I left my dream job it was to be my even dreamier job of owning my own business – an IT developer, architect, maintenance powerhouse that did it all. For a couple of years, I was happy being the one who got called in to places with IT problems that I could successfully diagnose and fix. I enjoyed that time too, pretty much. I still had never remarried or had kids – actually, I haven’t had a partner in my life since my catastrophically failed marriage ended way back when. I used to work all the time, and I traveled quite frequently. I was racking up some Delta Sky miles for a while. I had a couple of close friends that I hung out with on weekends and life was pretty much all I wanted it to be.

Then I went through a personal Hell so bad that at one time I even contemplated not coming out the other side. I developed a back disability that made it damn near impossible to work, let alone enjoy time off and out with friends. It got so bad at one point where I was almost bedridden. Between this horrible health condition and the onset of severe type 2 diabetes I was almost knocked down for the count. I got so sick that I literally couldn’t work anymore – it was (and still is) physically impossible for me to do the things I used to be able to do so easily. During this time, over the last 8 years, I lost everything I had ever had. I lost my home and independence. I lost my ability to work and make money. I damed near lost the ability to get out of bed. I started on the long and arduous task of getting disability. And trust me, it was more than just long and arduous. I literally lost everything I have ever had in my life during this time. Y’know – the universe deserves a gold star for the fact that it universally (see what I did there?) makes people who are trying to get disability almost have to freaking actually die before the motion comes through. If you ever try to get on legitimate disability – with a medically proven disability condition – be prepared to wait. Forever. And a Day. And when the sands of time have slowed to a mere scuffle on the mandala of life and you feel like you’ve been waiting a thousand years, you (may) eventually get it. For me, about 8 actual years passed before I finally got the message through to the people who matter, that I wasn’t a wannabe gold digger, and actually have a medical problem that I needed help with. During this time all of my resources – food, housing, clothing, literally everything, reached 0%. Having absolutely nothing is kinda the best feeling in the world. Your baggage is light, and you don’t have to worry about keeping anything safe. In fact, you don’t really have to worry much at all. But don’t worry, you’ll have all the time you need to not worry about anything in the world. And then your day will finally come.

About a year ago, I finally got approved for my disability status. I started receiving my compensation (from money I paid in while I worked) and got just a little bit of back pay, enough to pay off all the debts I had incurred during my 8 years of nothingness. Let me tell you. Going from absolutely nothing to actually having something to look forward to makes more of a difference in this world than you’d think. The impact of finally being able to support yourself almost makes you feel giddy with excitement. But you have to be careful, or you’ll burn up all your newfound prosperity before it can actually do any good. I have to keep reminding myself of that on a daily basis. And that was my self-reminder for today.

Where I stand today is a stark contrast to where I stood when my Dad was alive. Yes, I went through some really bad times, and yes, I seem to have emerged (finally) on the good side of things. But I can’t help but wonder – would everything have been quite so cold and malicious as it has been if my Dad had been around to comfort me? Because that was one thing he was really good at. No matter how I felt, when I was around him, I always felt better. He was aways telling me that he had faith in me, and in the choices he knew I would make, and that he was always proud to be my Dad. He could walk into a room and I swear it would brighten up just a little bit, no matter the time of day.

He had an aura about him, a kind of inner strength that radiated into the outside world. When he walked into a room, heads would turn. Nearly everyone knew him, because he never met a stranger. And one piece of advice that I have crafted my whole life around came from him. He once told me, “Son, whenever anybody asks you to do something for them, if you can do it, then do it. But don’t stop there. Always go that extra mile. Do what you are requested plus anything else you are capable of doing while you’re at it. Because people don’t always know how to ask for extra help, but they will definitely recognize it when they get it. And you will have done all you possibly could – what was asked, plus a little more that you could give. Trust me, they’ll appreciate it”.

Now, anyone who knows even an inkling about me knows that I am constantly trying to do good things for people whenever I see a need. I’m the guy who takes donuts to the staff at the Doctor’s office whenever I have an appointment. I never take my change if I do a cash transaction, because someone is always going to be a little short, and my change can help the cashiers not be losing money. If someone asks me to pick up a loaf of bread at the store, then I’ll probably get them a jug of milk too. Just because, they may need it and no know they need it, til it’s there.

Im not able to do a whole lot (especially not physically) but I do what I can. I live with an elderly maternal aunt who was the primary caregiver to her parents and a couple of her brothers and sisters as long as they were alive. Them being gone now, she didn’t need to be alone. I have nothing better to do, not that I could do a whole lot anyway, but we keep each other company and I try to see that she gets whatever she wants. She’s old – she deserves it. We mostly stay at home, feeding our proliferous band of cats (what? I say that because they multiply like weeds!) and trying to keep up with who’s doing what to whom on “The Bold and the Beautiful” and “The Young and the Restless”, collectively known as her “stories”. it’s a simple life, but a good one. And I can only begin to guess what the next upcoming half century has in store for me. Y’know, I probably won’t guess, because I don’t want to be wrong. So I’ll just bide my time and see where life takes me. I’m actually at a point where new things can start up, and I’m hoping it’ll be a glorious life. No matter what comes next, though, I still plan on carrying around that little bit of extra energy with me, and I plan on looking for ways to (subtly) do that little bit extra when I can. Because my Dad was right, it does feel good to know you’ve gone above and beyond your expectations. And I will always remember him for that.

Now, I’m going to plan my next post. Which I daresay will NOT be 3 years from now. Only maybe a few days away, if I stick to my new plan. I hope to see you all there.