Tag Archives: adulthood

Storage

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Posted by on in collaborating, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

November 25, 2024- One way or another, sometime next year, much of what I own and choose not to give away or sell, will be placed in storage. My game plan for 2025 will be discussed with my little family, over the next eight days. There are three options, but time in my current residence is getting short. More on what will transpire, as we go along.

Things can be placed in storage; feelings cannot. Many people stuff their emotions, either because they are internally uncomfortable or because they are unacceptable to those closest to them. I used to try and stuff my feelings. They came out anyway, in highly counterproductive ways, ranging from physical uncoordination to social awkwardness. There was, in retrospect, no real reason for this, except my misconception that being myself was an imposition on my family and would not be accepted by my peers.

This conviction was somewhat, but not completely, erased by marriage, career and parenthood. The emotions that remained “in storage” were rooted out later, when I was responsible for Penny’s care and for getting myself together, after her passing. There were those who understood and encouraged my growth, and there were those who would not cut me any slack. Fortunately, both contributed to the release and dismissal of those demons.

Storage has its place-and that is for temporary safeguarding of material possessions, like keepsakes and books that are not immediately needed. Feelings, though, should not be subject to “safekeeping”-at least not long term.

Mom

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Family, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 11, 2024- It is the flower gardens, that you and Dad tended so carefully, that I recall with the most delight. The yard invited us to get out and exercise-sometimes in play; other times, at work, helping Dad move those seemingly endless rocks. The lawn was my pride and joy, and was mowed every Saturday, once all the shoes were polished.

You have always said that the time to honour someone is during the living years, and you have practiced that, with every breath. I awoke this morning to the news that you are getting ever more tired, taking more and more rest. Darling, you have earned it, like no other. So it is time to honour you, while you still can read it.

I don’t remember what you described as a cramped apartment, on Gooch Street, Melrose. My first real memory was sharing a crib, with my baby sister, if only for a week or two. You instilled in us, that we were to share. Some days, I didn’t want to, but the rule stayed in place, and I am better for it; we all are.

You taught us that work was sacred. What we produced was the most important aspect of our lives, so long as it was put forth with love. You raised four strong people to adulthood, and even though one of us, me, has stumbled on occasion, the roadmap you and Dad gave us was there, when I was ready to find my way back. You took care of your youngest child, our brother, with a passion that set the tone for every one of us, in our own dealings with adversity. That example gave me clear vision, when my own time came to face the fire, as my beloved wife became disabled, and a bright shining light went into decline.

There was no daylight between the straight and narrow, and what awaited us, if we went off the path that was set. With that, you gave us discipline, and it has served each of us well. You stressed that no part of life was to be neglected, and that no failure was permanent-or even to be normalized. Each time that I’ve stumbled and fallen, you told me to get back up, and I did. Each time that I came to you with an injury, I was given the path to recovery, and took it. Each time that I wondered what you thought of my life path, your only concern was that I was happy on it.

So now, whether this is a momentary eclipse, a slow movement towards sunset or merely an overcast sky, know that you have long been the brightest sun in my life, Mother Dear. Every other bright star in my sky shines in your shadow. Your sun is ever in my heart.

The Tiredness and The Shame

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving

August 9, 2023- With slumped shoulders and a downcast expression, she handed me a pink tardy slip, apologizing as if the entirety of her lateness was her doing, alone. I suspected otherwise, and asked for a few more details, which the child was relieved to be able to share.

All too many children, it seems, are caught between dependence on those who are barely able to care for themselves-and actually having to raise themselves. The little girl has good judgment, so in the long term, I’d say her prospects for a solid adulthood are quite good. She does not suffer fools gladly-a good thing in my book, nor does she sneer at people who see things a bit differently than she. She also has strong, clear boundaries-which I have advised children to inculcate, as long as I have been advising in general.

D was tired, and felt shame at that fatigue. “I went to bed early enough”, she offered, “It seems the morning comes too soon.” No one, to my reckoning, should have to feel shame at physical states-and I communicated as much. There are too many variables involved in the matter of sleep, as with other health matters-and pre-adolescence, a swell as the change that follows it, are filled with interruptions, expansions and contractions that are bound to try anyone’s patience. How well I remember my own years of transition from childhood to youth!

I left her alone, with her close friend, and being a responsible soul, she pulled herself together enough to complete an assignment and launch into the next activity. When it came time to leave, though, she was first on the way to the bus line.

D, and about a dozen of her peers, have joined the community that lives in my heart. I will look out for her, whenever I can.

Fatherhood

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Posted by on in children, Family, Personal Values, Spiritual, Striving

June 18, 2017, Prescott-

The little girl told her father that she wanted to go over to an open area, at the memorial service for one of her school mates, so that she might do flips and somersaults.  “Go ahead”, said the man, while casting a wary eye about the grounds, “I’m watching you.”

This is among the fastest moving years I can remember.  Even staying closer to Home Base, for much of June, there has been no end to full days of activity, geared towards the betterment of the world.  That’s what we are expected to do, though- leave the world a better place than we found it.

I believe I have made a step in that direction, by raising a human being to adulthood, and pointing him in the direction that seemed most sensible to me- and most importantly, to him.  He has not disappointed me, once, since taking the vow of service to his country, and moving forward as an intelligent, hard-working young man.

My Dad saw me through some tough times, never giving up.  I miss him, yet I’m glad he didn’t have to see the difficulties through which we lived, in the first ten years of this century.  On the other hand, I will do all I can to support Aram, if trials and turbulence come again his way.

As to those hard ten years, 2001-11, commitment as a father means commitment as a husband.  I stayed true to Penny and did everything possible, to make sure she was in charge of her own life, to the end, no matter what pressures were brought on us by “experts” and well-meaning people, who just wanted to “get ‘er done”.  We honed our consultation skills, which were more something I, more than she, had to develop. It’s academic, as to whether we would have been better-served by using a debt reduction service, rather than filing for bankruptcy, but we chose the latter, and it’s all in the past, now.  Good life lessons were learned, late, and not lost on our son.

I see the vast majority of fathers, at least those with whom I have some contact, being wonderful, dedicated men.  None of us walks on water, yet we are producing fairly well-grounded young people.  Some are intensely vigilant; others, like the man mentioned above, are cautious, but relaxed enough to let their sons and daughters step out on their own, according to ability.

Fatherhood, even when children mature, and seem a million miles away, is an eternal blessing.  I look forward to many more years of that blessing and, if God wills, to its logical outgrowth:  Grandfatherhood.

 

The Road to 65, Mile 350: What Paris Taught Me

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Posted by on in Assistance, Community, Inspiration, Travel

November 13, 2015, Phoenix- I spent a good part of the day here, taking my third and last Elementary Certification Test.  While my day, to and from this bustling city, was peaceful, Paris’s Friday was the opposite.  DASH, or IS, or whatever the relics of medievalism call themselves, cast the City of Light in mayhem and blood.

With 129, or more, innocent people slaughtered, I am on my knees in homage to the great city, which welcomed me in June, 2014.  My adulthood has been late in blooming, and Paris gave me some key lessons, in that regard.

I learned:  Two very different places, within the same city, can have the same, or very similar names.  So, I trudged up the hill, to beautiful Montmartre, only to have a tourist office clerk patiently explain that my hotel would be found on Rue de Montmartre- down the hill, in central Paris.

I learned that French people can be quite annoyed with a visitor’s foibles, yet still provide fine service- this at my hotel, and again at the France Pass counter, in the west train station.

I learned that, even if one is slightly less than punctual, a tour guide is willing to take one into the group- once.  I didn’t chance being a few minutes late, the second time, though.

I learned that I was fully capable of catching, and dodging, the various ruses used by the “Gold Ring Grifters” and the subway “Card Swipers” (whose “service” consisted of swiping one subway ticket through the card reader, in hopes of a 200 Euro tip.)

I learned that Paris, with all its majesty, its splendour, its sheer humanity, has room for one more, regardless of background, status or appearance.  I also learned that its Metro cars are not like those of Tokyo.  There are no pushers, cramming people in.  On the Metro, the one more must often wait for the next train.

Still and all, when I return to Paris, perhaps in the summer of 2018, or five years hence, I will find a welcoming presence, expecting one who is a bit wiser in the ways of La Luminee.  We shall not disappoint each other.  I feel your sorrow, your pain, mon coeur.