Sundays

Sunday is one of my favorite days. For as long as I can remember Sunday has always been one of the best days of the week. The pace is slow, and during football season when the lawn no longer requires as much attention it becomes a day of distraction and a reason to be a little more sedate. It still is one of my best days of the week, but here lately every other Sunday has a little sting to it. It has a bittersweet air that causes me to reflect a little more than necessary.

   The children go back to their mother today and the house and life we once shared. Now I feel like an outsider in their lives, allowed only the occasional glimpse as they grow and learn and change so fast. I treasure every moment with them and at the same time I am constantly reminded of the change we have to deal with. They are troopers and are trying their best to adapt and put the best spin on this that they can, but no matter how you slice it we are all getting shortchanged. Don’t get me wrong, I am not pointing fingers or trying to lay blame at someone’s feet. There is plenty of that to go around and now it no longer matters.

    All that matters now is the children. All I can do is love them like only a father can and let them know as much as possible that everything will be alright. We will get through this, and we will grow and live and enjoy every second together. But it will never be the same. Holidays now have the 800 pound gorilla in the room. Schedules have to be maximized to enjoy the time together and still maintain contact with the rest of their extended family of cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents.

   This is the most difficult part of the whole situation. This is where I struggle the most, and this is the one subject that the mere mention of rips out my heart. This is pain that never goes away, and probably never will. Lost days, hours, minutes and seconds that can never be recovered bring me to my knees crying for relief, forgiveness, and deliverance. I have to be strong and I have to accept this for what it is and do more than I ever imagined letting them know they are loved and that I will always be their father. I have to make them know that everything will be alright and dad will always be here to make things right, to hold them when they need it and hug and kiss them when it will embarrass them the most. They have to know that the only thing that has changed is where I live and they are as much a part of my life as they always have been. I have to convince myself of the same things and as the Bard said “…there’s the rub”. Because for me the pain is endless and that is a wound that will never heal. I will carry it with me everywhere as I start over, over 50.

The Answer

   I once watched a recorded session of a couple going through marriage counseling. They were divorced, yet they were trying either to understand what happened, or get back together. The intriguing part to me, and I still remember it vividly, was when the therapist asked the man what he missed most from the marriage. I was amazed! I was married at the time and the man’s slow response to answering the question got my attention. When he had an answer it had little to do with the woman, his wife, and his lover and had more to do with his life.

   I thought about that question then and thinK about it even more now. When I was married I always asked myself what I would have said. Being comfortable and oblivious to things around me at the time I never gave it much deep thought. Now, things being what they are, I have given it a lot of thought. It is a tough question and I understand why the man took so long to answer. First let me admit that as a gender, when it comes to affairs of the heart, men lose all ability to communicate rationally and effectively. That part I understand. However, I continued to try to answer that question.

    Each time I have broken down and begged God to tell me why I couldn’t be what I was anymore, why was I in this situation, and why was everything I knew and loved now gone, I would stop and try to answer that question, and in trying to answer it I came to a cold realization. There was a reason things happened the way they did and I was part of it. Because in trying to answer that question for myself I froze, just like the man in the recorded session I watched. Never mind what the answer is, the fact that I could not immediately spit out what I knew in my heart is the right answer I had answered for myself all the lamentations and prayers I had thrown heavenward.

    I know now in my heart what I miss most. It turns out most were just things, or as I have mentioned before, routines. Things that defined the man I wanted to be, and hoped people saw me to be, a husband, a father, a leader and teacher; a man of good principle with a fine family and a solid member of the community. Most were mere illusions and there are only two of those that I can honestly claim and they are father and teacher. Maybe for right now that is enough. Maybe for now I do not have to be anything more. Maybe for now I can just be me and hope that is enough as I start over, over 50.

Routine

   Routines, we all have them. No matter how spontaneous we like to think we are most of us have well established routines. The routine adds rhythm to our life, gives meaning to the mundane, and brings order to what otherwise could be a chaotic task. The routine of our lives brings us peace and a sense of purpose. When for whatever reason all of that is upset it can turn our lives in to unmanageable series of events that just wear us down.

   I believe one of the best ways to start over is to reestablish old routines or to establish new ones.  Routine brings us comfort and a sense of normalcy. The routine of waking up the kids and getting them ready for school, cooking dinner for the family, and getting the kids to bed have to be replaced. New routines need to be put in place and all of the shared responsibilities now become your own. As a man some these responsibilities can be quite cumbersome and downright puzzling.

   I am now responsible for my own laundry. Clean Laundry used to magically appear in all the spots I was used to getting clean clothes. Imagine my surprise when all of that ceased. I was puzzled at first, but the fetid moldy pile in the corner of my bedroom told me what the problem was. I figured out the solution and now I have somewhat of a routine for clean laundry. When I run out of clean clothes I wash the dirty ones. But that is just one small example of the myriad details that I now have to attend to that before were split, maybe not fifty-fifty, but divided nonetheless.

   I am focusing on routines now, trying to bring order to my life and bring back a new sense of normalcy. I cannot tell you how many times I have sat in my recliner and thought of all things I no longer have to do. I cannot tell you how many times during my former life I wished I did not have all of those things to do. Funny now how much I miss all the everyday mundane chores and responsibilities that go along with sharing a life with someone. Now I pray for the return of the busy hectic life. I long for the scheduled monotony of a life that revolves around others. Now, all I have to take care of day-to-day is me, and I am doing a poor job of it. I will get a handle on it as I establish new routines, figure out what I forgot to take care of and if my prayers are answered soon I will share those routines with someone again as I start over, over 50.

Keeping it Real

   Part of moving on is letting go of the past. I have written about letting go of the past and the importance of hanging on to certain portions of it. I have mentioned we need windows on the past so we can see where we’ve been and somehow avoid the pitfalls that make parts of the past hard to view. I have been guilty, probably since the beginning of my situation, of playing the victim. As much as I abhor victimhood and blaming others for my situation I have been engaged in that behavior. It is sad really because I thought I was making progress in spite of what someone may have done to me whether real or imagined, when in actuality I was still wallowing in the mire of hate and blame and passive aggressive behavior that serves no purpose other than to satisfy some sick inner need to not be accountable for my actions.

   No one caused this situation. No one set out with malice and premeditation to make my life miserable. Yet for some reason I felt compelled to find blame, point fingers and make accusations that are counterproductive to real growth and engaged in boorish behavior. For that I beg forgiveness from all involved. What happened simply happened and had been coming for a long time whether I wanted to see it or not. I was a part of it and as a part of it I share in the cause. It is over now and that is all that matters. How and why do not matter. There is no going back, only forward and that is why I am writing this, it is all about forward motion. Moving on and starting over and I do not want to start over with hate in my heart and blame on tongue, for if I wanted to see the cause for all of this all I have to do is look inward.

   From this point forward I have taken a personal vow to accept what is and make the best of the situation as possible. Again, I have a good job, benefits and a real career. I have family and friends that truly love me and I do them a disservice if I am not honest about how I got here. I brought myself here. I could have possibly stopped this from happening, but I did not. I am here at the crossroads and I have just dumped a whole pile of blame, anger and resentment in the ditch. I am hoping the cleansing rains of renewal will wash it all away and I am moving on. I vow from this point forward to be cognizant of where I am and how I got here. All I have to do is look in the mirror each day as I start over, over 50.

Filling Voids

    One step at a time sometimes one minute at a time that is the way I go through my days. The good thing is each of the steps and each of the minutes are getting easier. The mornings are the same and for some reason I have yet to be able to change them. I cry all the way to work. I have been told it is therapeutic. Of course the people telling me it is therapeutic hold no degrees in psychology, are not psychiatrist but they do have my best interests at heart. That is one of the positives of what is happening to me. For each person that may enjoy my ill fortune, that may take pleasure in my pain I am finding two more that want to help, want to be sympathetic, or just be there.

   I have a job, a good job in my chosen profession. That is a good start, and it fills a void. There are still voids to fill and some voids may never be filled. For certain the loss of seeing my children every day is a void that will never be filled, but I will adjust and it will work out. Their mother and I agree on the importance of a cordial relationship around the children and a united front with discipline and other issues. I am praying I am mature enough to keep that up. My past history would suggest otherwise. Filling voids and replacing lost relationships is a big part of the starting over process and I am committed to doing that.

   I will love again, of that I am certain and I will marry again, I am certain of that too. We are by nature creatures averse to being alone and not in a close relationship. Close loving relationships with others are good for our health and help heal our shattered psyches as well as our lost souls. My next will be number three and I can honestly say I will love her more than any other. It seems some of us are destined to keep trying until we get it right and I am determined to get it right. We all have love to share and the need to share that love a wonderful thing. I will marry again and for me the sooner the better. You know what they say about falling off the horse. Bad analogy, but it works.

    I have made progress in the last few months. It hasn’t been as easy as I thought it would be and I am sure there will be some setbacks and disappointments. I have already experienced some at the expense of others and that bothers me. I have rushed towards others and trampled through their life in matter of days only to realize it was the wrong time, the wrong person, or I was just not suitable. That it is one thing I must remember as I travel down this road. My impact on other people’s lives may not be as minimal as I would like to think. I need to remember others may be traveling the same road I am on and may have been on it longer. As I move forward it will be with a little more caution and care as I start over, over 50.

The Garden of life

   Starting over, requires moving forward and moving forward can sometimes be tedious because of all the baggage we insist on taking with us. Loads of useless regrets, anger and memories that hold no value and sometimes people that do us no good can weigh us down to the point that forward motion is impossible. The thing we have do to is decide what is worth holding on to, what is worth the extra charge at the gate. For me it is regrets, anger, and memories that hold no value.  People I value. More often than not I am so wrong in my assessment of people that I have left many good potential friends by the side of the road only to realize later they would have been nice to have on the journey.

   Now as I take an inventory of what I am carrying I am being more careful. I am loath to pay the extra fees for excess baggage that does nothing but drag me down. I am anxious however to gather people along for the trip. For I have found that I as I focused on career and family I left behind a lot of friends and valuable acquaintances. The best analogy I can come up with for this part of life is it is like a garden.

   The garden of life has to be tended. It has to be watered with compliments, fed with love, and occasionally pruned and weeded with prudence and patience and great care. I am doing that now. My garden was overgrown with weeds and untended for far too long. So now I am a gardener of life. I am planting new seeds for friends unknown, I am weeding the garden of the things that are choking back nourishing life and I am rediscovering those things that I neglected for far too long.

   Starting over now has started to become positive. Don’t get me wrong, it is still difficult and sometimes I look forward and quake with fear at what I am facing and my abilities to succeed. But succeed I must, the alternative is unacceptable. As I have posted before you cannot quit and the road of life is littered with those who gave up, holding pitiful cardboard signs that describe their transgressions and point out their unwillingness to keep living, to keep trying to go on with life no matter what has hit them. I shall not stop, I may falter, I may trip and stumble, but as I was taught by my parents my response to these obstacles define me and you cannot quit. I will persevere as I start over, over 50.

It's Not About Me

   Why is it when we are hurt emotionally we always want the one that hurt us to pay exponentially? Why is it that as adults we have to react as children when we feel slighted, hoping something bad happens to the person who in our mind did grievous harm to our heart and psyche? As a human being and a man, that is something I have wrestled with all my life. For some reason I have felt I would feel better if the person who hurt me, hurt just as bad if not worse. I have realized how childish and boorish this kind of behavior is. How these thoughts can stain your soul and damage your heart and psyche further.

    When I first found myself in the position I am in I wanted my pound of flesh from the perpetrators. I wanted those responsible to pay, I wanted them to hurt and I wanted to be able to see the results of the damage. That was one of the hardest things I had to get over. You see, I was making this whole situation about me. It did not involve anyone else. I assumed I was the only one hurting by this. After all, I had done nothing to deserve what was happening to me. However, the reality is there is more than one side to every story. More than one way to perceive the way things are and we all know perception is reality. I had a role in this. I am not innocent. It took a while to realize and accept that. I own some of the responsibility for where I am today. I cannot blame anyone else. Blame serves no purpose.

   Acceptance, they talk about it in every twelve step program. One has to accept things as they are and the Serenity Prayer speaks to this. I have to learn to accept that it is rarely if ever all about me. Sometimes it is about me and then it usually isn’t that big of a deal. My point being the others involved in my circumstances have their reasons, needs and wants that have nothing to with me. My part in their life is over for the most part. Obviously I no longer have a role to fill. It is with this in mind that I have to remind myself of the needs of others and the small role I may play in lives of those around me and I need to realize when that role has ended.

   I have a place in this world. I have children to raise, a job and profession to maintain. Somewhere out there are more friends to meet and perhaps someone to love again as deeply, or more so that I have ever loved before. That is the beauty part of starting over. The new chapters, the new people that come into our lives and yes, the new love.  We can love again. We are human and as such are wired to be able to love deeply more than once in our lives. I look forward to that and I look forward to it with the new found wisdom and knowledge I have gained starting over, over 50.

The currents of life

   Starting over is a great adventure. Fraught with the all of the pitfalls, success, stumbles, failures and victories that one would expect. However, as time goes forward the stumbles become fewer, the pitfalls easier to see and the victories large and small become more frequent. They say that time heals all wounds. Don’t believe that for a minute. It makes the wound less visible, less raw, but emotional wounds never heal. One thing time does allow us to do is recover, catch our breath and stop and get a view of where we are headed.

   I have not had the luxury of time. It hasn’t healed a single wound, but it has allowed me to get my feet under me, to catch my breath from that body blow I took back in June, to take an inventory of what I have, what I need, and where I may be going, but my need to heal is urgent. My desire to recover strong. I think sometimes the momentum of life just sweeps us along like the rapids of a river during the spring thaw. All we can do is keep our head above the water, look out for the rocks and pray for the current to slow. Every now and then I have spied a pool of calmer water and been unable to get to it, so here I am being swept along by the swift currents of change praying that I do not hit any more rocks.

   The good part about the swift current of life that is sweeping me along right now is that I am a little better prepared. I have the experience of having been down this road before. Don’t be deceived, I am making mistakes. I have stumbled, taken wrong turns, squandered a few good opportunities and trampled through a few innocent people’s life in this short span of time. But I believe that is how life goes. As we are swept along we can look back and see the dangers we have missed, the rocks we could have avoided and maybe even a safe place to exit where we should have stopped for a break.

   Right now I do not have the luxury of time. Right now time seems to be my enemy. I am aging and I see it every morning in the face that looks back at me in the mirror. A little more haggard, a little older and sometimes I do not recognize it at all. However, I am upright and on the green side of the ground. As I am being swept along by the currents of change I see familiar faces along the bank some cheering me on, others offering a hand, a branch, or the occasional toss of the life ring. I have yet to grab any of these life savers. The current is still too swift and I am still a little tired. But up ahead, just around the bend I see a calm spot in the river, just out of sight and almost out of reach, but it is there. When I get to it I will float to the bank, grab the hand of the one standing by to help and take my place on the bank, standing and watching for another hapless soul caught up in the currents of change, starting over, over 50.

Grateful

    Today’s word is grateful. It is a wonderful word and I have thought about it a lot lately. I have not been grateful. I have wallowed in the mire of my grief, sometimes relishing the raw pain of my wounded heart and psyche. Until one day my youngest daughter explained it to me in simple terms. It was a classic out of the mouths of babes moment. First I have to admit that in front of the children I have let the wayward tear slide down my check as I pondered the future and the seeming unfairness of not being able to have them with me all the time. My youngest daughter is an astute observer of my moods. Like any woman she is an empath and can sense the slightest change in my mood. Well, apparently the other day she sensed something and out the blue explained to me how much I had to be grateful for. She said, “Dad you have everything you need. You have an apartment that is nice you have a job and food in the refrigerator and most of all you have us.” Out of the mouths of babes.

   I am grateful. The more I think about it I am not grateful enough. I have more than I realize. I need less than I imagine I do. Don’t get me wrong, the pain is still raw and the wound still fresh, but it will heal. I have all that I need at the moment. Friends, family, a fantastic new job and children that even in this difficult time can forget their fears, trepidations, and wonder about the future to console their father. I am humbled (there’s that “H” word again) beyond belief and I am grateful.

   As I start tomorrow with all that I have I will take an inventory and I will remember what my daughter, who is only 8 years old, told me. I have everything. I will endeavor to be grateful on a daily basis. When again I find myself in the pit of despair I will try to remember that moment, her words and the honest true love they conveyed. That will be my lifeline, my ladder if you will and I will climb up out of that pit and reach up and hold that memory. For the rest of my life it will remain indelibly etched in my heart. I have everything I need, and I am eternally grateful for all of it and the young child that found the words and the love to remind her father.

New Beginnings

   New beginnings are all around us. Sometimes we just have to see them. We probably miss more than we catch, but they are out there. That is the beauty of life. We keep on living, putting one foot in front of the other and eventually we will find our way out the darkest of holes. Speaking of which, I have never forgotten what one of my college professors told me. He said the first rule of holes is, when you find yourself in one…put down the shovel! I live by that rule and I believe that is one of the reasons this hole has not been as deep or as hard to get out of.

   I have found myself in some dark places in my life, this one being one of the darkest. However, one of the advantages of starting over, over 50 is the years of accumulated knowledge and experience help one to overcome some of the obstacles. As a young man I would have been far more reactive than proactive in this situation, I know because this is not the first time I have been down this road. The first time I went to some dark places. I was reactive and not proactive, and blamed everything and everyone but myself. The odd thing was that back then I had a larger support group than I have now and yet it still took me a decade to snap out of it and emerge from the darkness.

  Don’t get me wrong, the pain seems worse this time than before, the situation is much harder to accept, yet I have not gone to those same dark places I visited before. I have, for the most part kept my wits about me. I have done positive things that move me forward and provide opportunity. One opportunity starts tomorrow. I have secured a good teaching job in a great school district with a decent salary and benefits. It takes some of the sting out of what I lost; belonging to an organization with people that share some commonality helps keep me up-beat and positive.

   I still have a long way to go. I miss my former life terribly, and the sting of someone you once worshipped and loved so much no longer reciprocating those feelings is as raw and painful as it was when I first heard it was over. However, I have taken what I think is a big step in the right direction and hopefully being back to work in a profession I love so much will help heal the wounds. Suddenly with just one small victory, one step in a forward direction there is some light on the horizon. I am cautiously optimistic and at the same time a little cynical. I know now for certain that in the blink of an eye it can all disappear again and I will find myself once more starting over. But I also know another thing for certain…I can handle it.

Fear

I have pondered lately why I have been so fearful, or worried, or maybe even anxious about starting over at my age. Why has it caused me so much pain, fervent prayers for help, and bouts of grief that bring my six foot four inch 260lb frame to its knees? Why do I cry out to God for deliverance from this pain and fear? Today I realized it was the uncertainty. The not knowing how my children are and what they are doing every minute, what if I got sick or injured (I lost my health insurance as a result of the divorce) where was my next paycheck coming from and would I be able to pay my bills? All of these thoughts and more consumed me and some days paralyzed me. I have slowly come to the realization that these were legitimate concerns, but also issues I could deal with. I have dealt with worse, with fewer resources than I currently possess.

   I can call my ex-wife at any time to check on the kids, hell they call me every day, sometimes twice a day. I can see them anytime I want and regularly get them for weekend visits. Scratch one fear off the list. What if I did get sick or injured? I would go to the hospital or doctor and get treatment. The bill would be the bill, not as important as my health. I am reminded of an acquaintance from high school that delayed going to the doctor because she had no health insurance. She died some months later of breast cancer. If I get sick or hurt I will seek treatment and deal with the bill as it comes, at least I will be alive. As for the next paycheck, I am a college educated, licensed and certified teacher with more than one endorsement on my license. Certainly, sooner or later I can find work and right now it appears I may have. Scratch another one off the list.

   The point in all this is I succumbed to man’s worse enemy, fear. Fear brought on by uncertainty, has stopped many people cold and left them unable to succeed. But life is full of uncertainties, I may drop dead tomorrow and this all becomes moot. I will not deny my fears, but rather as we are all taught I will face them head on. Acknowledging their existence but refusing to let them stop me from achieving my goals. I have before, and I can do it again. Looking back on my life I have always done just that, acknowledged them, but pressed forward thereby conquering them whether I was successful or not. Starting over, over 50 is a daunting task, but hardly impossible. There is not a thing I can think of that should prevent me from being successful. So I go forth, afraid, uncertain, but sure in the knowledge that it is what I must do. To start over, at some point I have to get started. So I have started, I have a good opportunity for a job in a good school system that will eliminate about 75% of things that have me worried. Am I afraid, yes I am? Will it stop me from moving forward and achieving my goals? Never.

 Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy.
Dale Carnegie

You Cannot Quit

   Starting over is difficult. It would be easy to wallow in the mire of grief, but I cannot. One thing I learned from my parents and I tell my little ones all the time (my oldest seems to already know this) is that you cannot quit. Life goes on and while you are still alive you cannot quit. But it is more than just not quitting it is carrying on as you always have. You have to keep striving to do your best, to be the best and not settle. I have always wanted to do just that, but it is difficult when you think you are alone.

   When I found myself in this position some 5 months ago I was frozen by grief and disbelief and I succumbed to that state that stops so many cold in their tracks and makes them unable to move forward. I was a victim, it wasn’t my fault, someone else caused this and I do not deserve it. There were days when all I could do was sob uncontrollably; driving down the road trying to see through the veil of tears, begging God to stop the pain, to bring back everything that I held so dear yet squandered so easily. I was certain I had no part in the demise of my former life and why for God’s sake was this happening to me? I still have those moments, although not nearly as often and now I think the tears and grief are about something else entirely.

   I am starting over and I am over 50. That is a fact I cannot escape. However, it is not as daunting as I first imagined. So far I am still alive, my children still love me and I get to see them regularly, not as often as I would like, but regularly. When they leave I cry, but I imagine one day that will stop. The crying may stop but not the pain. Part time dad is like a part time job, it is better than nothing, but it can’t pay the bills.

    So here I stand at the crossroads, waiting, hoping, certain that at some point this will all seem like a bad dream and I will look back at it as just another chapter, another phase and a part of the growth process, painful, yet inescapable. I will know once again that there is not much that life can throw at us that we cannot overcome. As the title states I am starting over, over 50. Tomorrow I will find out if another chapter has begun. I may have a job, as a teacher, in a public school, something I have hoped for and worked to achieve.  The restoration process may be beginning. It is up to me how things turn out and if it is not to be I will not quit, but continue to move forward, starting over, over 50.

That last breath

   I received a comment on a blog post that contained what the writer called cliches that ring true. And they do ring true. Sometimes cliches help us get perspective on things, and truly most cliches do have a good bit of truth in them. One of the cliches was, "When one door closes another door opens". I guess that is true. When it seems that doors have closed on chapters of our lives other doors open to new beginnings and experiences for us. That is true if we keep moving forward. New doors have to open or what else is there? However, as I look back on my life and recent events I do not see closed doors, nor do I want to imagine that those doors ever close. If we can't look back and see through these doors then what was the point of all that we have lived?
   I have learned in my short time and limited experience that one should never close doors on the past, burn bridges that we have crossed, or erase memories of those people and events that helped put us where we are. Rather, they should be windows on the past that we can look through from time to time to see the good and the bad, the mistakes and the victories. We are all fallible and guilty of sins of omission and commission that make us wince as we view them through the windows of the past. Like The Chairman of the Board sang, "regrets, I've had a few, but then again too few to mention". When you sit down and think about it, it is true for all of us.
   Think about it for a minute and look back on your past. How much would you truly change? How much do you really regret? For certain, on the micro level, we can come up with a million little regrets. The anger at a driver on the way to work as we honked and gave them the secret sign, the harsh, or cross words when impatient we snapped at a loved one when all they wanted, or needed was a smile, a touch, an acknowledgement of their importance in your life. But how much should you regret? Every action on your part was another step on the path that brought you to a new and more often than not, better place.
   We cannot change the past, we can only learn from it. We can certainly have some influence on the future, but as my last post suggested hubris can sneak up and influence it in ways we never intended. So I will not look back on my past as closed doors, but rather as windows to my life that I can peer through and learn from. From this point forward I will look to the future with hope and back at the past with happiness. For if you are still on the green side of the ground you really have nothing to be remorseful about. You have been given the precious gift of another day, another opprtunity to improve the lives of others and enhance your own life.
   I have no regrets. I have made mistakes, but I am only human and I cannot take them back, I can only learn from them and attempt to keep from repeating them. It is Friday night and I am seeing it in a new light. Not through rose colored glasses, but certain in the knowledge that I will make mistakes again, I will hurt someone without meaning to, be angry about petty issues, and forget sometimes to tell those around me how much they matter to me. I will endeavour to improve on that, and not make the mistakes as often, but I am certain I will make them. Again I am human. I will not beat myself  up about it, and when I am on my deathbed drawing that last precious breath I pray that I will have learned not to regret, but to remember.
  

Words that begin with "H"

    As promised, my point here is to explore the starting over process at this age and to try and figure out why I have to start over. As Aristotle said "an unexamined life is not worth living". With that in mind I have done some serious examination and for some reason the word hubris keeps coming to mind. The word is an apropos description of one of the reasons I am in the position I am in today. I looked it up, although I knew the meaning,  (again more hubris) and found the following; hubris means extreme haughtiness, or arrogance, hubris often indicates a loss of contact with the way things really are and an overestimation of one's own competence or capabilities. The definition is longer and I am paraphrasing, but I believe that gets my point across.
    Hubris is a disease as sure as any viral, or bacterial malady that affects us. I was and probably still am at times, afflicted with this malady. I strive to rid myself of this dreaded malady, but every time something good comes into my life I want to claim the credit and say to the world, "look, look at me and what I have done". Not to say that it is a bad thing to recognize one's accomplishments, or be proud of what one has, but I believe that it is better to let your actions speak for themselves without all of the fanfare. I became so wrapped up in what I had, a good job, a beautiful family, and a great circle of friends, that I forgot the maintenance part. Love and family, and true friendship have to be fed and nurtured, valued and treasured. I become wrapped up in me and what I had accomplished and the things people were telling me. I forgot how to take praise and forgot the most important word that starts with the letter "h", humility.
    So now I have made myself a vow and will dedicate myself to that word, humility, being humble. I realize now that no matter what I think I have accomplished, or what I think I have, I am not solely responsible for my success. There are friends and family that allowed these things to come to be. That fed me and nurtured me and lauded my efforts, but at the same time did not care about my success, just my happiness. It is those around us that we need to remember and celebrate. By being proud of their accomplishments and their victories we can shine the light on our own without suffering from hubris. I know now that in the blink of an eye it can all go away and we can be left standing in the middle of a road leading no where wondering how we got kicked off the bus.
   I am in the middle of that road now, suitcase in hand, looking in both directions waiting for that bus to come back around. However, it may be a while before it gets back...there is some maintenance yet to be finished before it can take me further. Until then I shall ponder the things that brought me to this intersection and hope that when the bus comes back by I can get my humble butt back on and enjoy the ride, humble and happy with who I am. 

It's Never Too Late

     First I have to admit I am a little cautious, having never let my thoughts hang out in the ethereal wind of the www makes me a bit nervous. I have always been cautious about social media and all my life I was taught my business is my business. However, in an effort to make sense of where I am and where I am going I am taking a stab at the cathartic process of baring my soul if you will, in an effort to help me make sense of what happened, and what is happening and maybe to help others in the same predicament. I cannot be the only one who for whatever reason has found themselves suddenly and without warning, at least a warning I recognized, without a job, outside of the warmth of the family unit, at an age when most men and women are looking towards enjoying the fruits of a lifetime of labor and searching.
   I was married a little later in life and have three beautiful little children ages 5 and 8 one that is 27 from a previous marriage. I had a home, a career that seemed safe and opportunities were presented to me that made it appear I could write my ticket to whatever heights I wanted to reach. In a matter of 2 months, I call it the "Summer Massacre of 2011" I lost all that I had, or rather I let it all slip away. I stood there flatfooted as divorce charged down the tracks and left me in the classic one bedroom apartment of the divorcee, without the woman I had loved for 16 years and becoming a "part-time" dad. It's the classic cliche now. We've all seen it, many of us have lived it more than once. So starting today I am going to make an effort to chronicle my return to life for lack of a better phrase. I have always defined myself by my job and my place as a husband and father. I am still a father, again "part-time" it seems, and no longer a husband.
   In the coming months I hope through this I can make some sense out of what happened and my role in it and document my return, or my rebirth, if you will and find my way back to being part of something. I welcome comments, suggestions and criticisms. I realize I had a role in all that has happened and now I have the lead role in anything else that comes my way. So at the age of almost 53 I start a new journey towards new beginnings and hopefully a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment.