I remember as a kid, it seemed like every year was filled with huge, titanic changes. Probably in part due to the structure of school, every year is pretty clearly marked and defined.
It’s not usually really like that as an adult- years just kind of flow by to the point that you’re surprised it’s spring or fall again, surprised at how winter seems to be lasting longer and longer, surprised that the new truck yall just bought has 150,000 miles on it. Time sneaks up on you.
I took the day off of everything today, and it’s probably a good thing I did. You could say I was trying on the idea of retirement for size. What would it really be like? Is it something I actually want to pursue at this point in my life?
I slept in til eight, did my workout, watched Alice Fraser’s Savage (and cried), played video games, read a book, didn’t cook anything, and ordered groceries. That’s it, the sum total of my whole day. I spoke to no one, and no one spoke to me.
One of the worst parts of this past year has been throwing away a lot of comforting illusions. And I’m sure to some folks, they’d say why bother throwing them away, who are they hurting? Well, me.
My mom wasn’t a great person. She wasn’t a great mom. Please understand that I don’t say this to hurt anyone, it’s a truth I needed to see and know. Just like I need to see and know those parts of myself that came from her. I guess in a way, I don’t need a warm, fuzzy, comforting lie of who she was to make me feel.. goddess, I don’t even know. Better about myself? It’s been a year of hard fucking truths like this… realizing that the memories of a child reassessed as an adult add up to a lot of things that frankly scare me.
I don’t want to become that person… that person who isn’t happy, can’t be happy, and doesn’t want to care about anyone because it can hurt. I’m not a masochist or anything, it just seems in the 40 plus years I’ve been running around that the only parts of life that are real come from investing in others, caring about them, being brave enough to love. Even when you lose them. Even when it’s hard. Even when it hurts. Maybe especially when it hurts.
What does all this thinking of the day add up to?
Well, I’m not ready to retire yet. I was bored out of my fucking skull. There were any number of things I could have decided to do… I just didn’t. And I felt like it would be way too easy to just keep… not doing. After all, that’s pretty much what mom did for the last few years that I was able to observe, up close and personal.
You could say, in a very special way, I’ve been the last year and a day thinking about what the everliving fuck I want to do with the rest of my life, and you’d be right.
Here’s what I know. I want to put some good in the world. I want to make people think. I want people to know that I care, both personally and in that broad, impersonal way that I want people to find what makes them happy. I do have a bunch of family left that I don’t really know after almost 30 years spent far, far away… and I don’t really want to be personally involved with them (and to be fair and honest, I don’t really think they have an interest in being involved with my life either!), but from this remove? I hope they are living happy, fulfilling lives pursuing whatever seems best to them. I want to go on telling stories for as long as they are in my head. I want to keep making Rick happy, one Lego kit or giant replica at a time. And I want to keep both eyes open for the things and people that would get in the way of the contentment we’ve found.
I’ve spent too much of my life unhappy for a thousand reasons, all beginning with fear and what I didn’t see or what I couldn’t control.
So there.. lots of deep, soul searching if you’re into that kind of thing. Just a few more things to say and I’ll wrap up this entry.
I talked a little bit about how time just flows by when you’re an adult, and that’s mostly true. But there are still the deep cuts of change that you mark time by… and one of them is loss. Mom’s now been gone for a year, and all I can feel is sad for her and how much time was wasted for her being unhappy. But it was never my responsibility to make her happy- all I could and did do was my best to adhere to her wishes and let her know I cared. And fuck anyone that has a negative opinion about what I did or how I did it. I hope to heaven you never have to make the decisions or go through what I did.
Love is still the realest, truest thing I know of in this world. And you don’t stop loving someone just cause they’re gone, and I don’t think they stop loving us either. Maybe that’s a little fantasy I have that makes me feel closer to the folks that I’ve lost and miss, but it feels true to me.
After a lot of deep thought, I’m going to shut down my social media accounts. I am not seeing news of my friends anymore, just ads. I don’t think any book sales are being driven there, just noise. Instead, I invite folks to reach out, and I’ll keep blathering on here, because it’s what I do.
Be good to each other, cause life’s too fuckin short.
Curiouser and Curiouser 