I watched my father die.
Well, no, I didn't. But kinda.
I watched his spirit die. I saw him break. And he died ten years later after he moved to Greece by himself. Without his family.
But he died alone in the condo he had there.
We barely talked after he moved. I was 10. He died when I was 20. My 50s are coming quick. He was 62 when he died. Not all that much older than me. Too young to die.
I'd like to make it to 100. About more 50 years of life for me. That's a good number. A healthy 100, too. I don't want 20 years of miserable sickness and immobility.
I'm a father now. Teenage boys. Except I'm there for them. That's very important to me. The most important thing for me. I have sacrificed a lot of my own happiness to be a present father. Stuck in a town I despise. It's mutual. Just not a good fit for me.
My boys need me less than they did when they were younger. It's good. They are such smart, handsome boys with so much going for them. They can be anything they want. But they need a lot of guidance. From me.
Middle school is when I basically didn't have parents anymore, and I think it really put me at a disadvantage. I wish I had some guidance leading into adulthood.
What am I writing about? Why am I even writing?
I think because I miss writing.
This blog used to be such a great outlet for me. At a time when I was really struggling. Those days feel far away now. They are far away now.
Today is actually
the 10 year anniversary of the Lifeline. I honestly didn't realize that or plan to write a 10 year anniversary post or anything like that. I haven't even written a Lifeline blog post in a couple years.
But I felt this need to write a new blog today. An interesting coincidence. I do writing for school and work, and it feels like work, and I hate it. I never do writing I like. I journal, but it's not the same. There's something about the publicness of a blog.
I like my job but can feel sick of it (I guess as one does) and have gotten somewhat of a promotion, so I guess I am doing something right. I needed that win after the disaster of the last institution I was at. It still burns.
I found another job I am very interested in. Probably send that application off at the end of this weekend. The next step for me. A dean position. I have been directing for several years now.
The Life Line was inspired by loneliness, I think, along with a big life crisis I was working through (i.e., divorce).
My dad died a broken and lonely man, and I hate that.
And there is a recognition I could be that. I am a bit reclusive like him. I have his general disposition. People can really bother me. Sounds awful, right?
But I love people and helping people at the same time.
As my kids become more independent, I feel an impending loneliness. And not just impending. I feel it now, too.
Too many men wind up old and alone. And I don't want that for myself.
How do I create more support in an area where I don't really fit? How do I find my person?
My dad has always haunted me in this way...I do not want to be like him. I already am not him. But I still can be. I guess. I fear that.
The Lifeline lets me just write without filter. I may use it again for that. I have said this before.
Regardless of if I write again next week or next year or never, happy tenth.