Humbling

Today's update is very short as I've got a lot to do in a very short time this morning. If time permits I may post an update later.

Yesterday some friends I've not seen in about four or five years came by the funeral home during the visitation to see me. They weren't there to see my step-dad or my mother, no. Of what was probably 70 people three of them came by just to see me.

There are few times in our lives when we can say we are truly humbled by the actions of others.

That was one of them.

Thank you.

I've got dad hands

Today I found out that one of my parental units is reading my blog. (I say parental units because I have more than two. It's now three but it's been four and it could be argued that there was actually five...so, you know, I'm going to just use the words "parental units" and avoid the whole mess.)

I have always, and intend to always, conduct myself in a way that my parental units would be proud of. They can't watch everything I do or say and they won't always agree with the finer points but they can know that, without variation, I honor them, our family and my friends. I will always, most assuredly to a fault, make decisions that are right over decisions that are easier or that get me "ahead." Okay, I'll do what I think is right. I can't help that I'm stupid. Remember that whole "nature" part of the equation? Yeah, parental units, that's your fault, everything else is on me.

To be fair, I wasn't born and went, "hey, I think I'm going to just be a solid gold citizen." No. It's part nature and it's part nurture. I was born as someone who needed to follow the rules then I was taught the rules by my parental units. They could have fucked me up really really good and maybe in some cases it could be argued that they did but ultimately I am someone that, I believe, they can be proud of. It's their damn fault I follow the rules and try to do good things. If it was up to me I'd be a complete mess. Wait. Let's not weigh in on that yet okay?

The other day I looked at my hands and I wondered, when did they become my father's? When did my wrinkles and scars turn me in to the man that raised me? How in the hell did I turn into my father?

I was approximately 13 when my father was 40 so I remember the man he was in clear detail and can compare that against the man I am now. Sure, there are differences but ultimately I am him just in a different place. I am what my father would have been if he'd have been me...if that makes a dribble of sense.

Long story short our natures are the same but our nurtures are far different. In the end we are the same man and that man believes in doing what is right and honorable even if we, sometimes, make mistakes because we're slow.

There are a great many things in my life I wish my parents could see me do. I wish they could see me help a stranger find their way at the airport. I wish they could see me fight for my team at work and I wish they could know how much I try to keep everything together when it all wants to dash off to opposite corners of the room. I am the man that they raised and I am that man even when they aren't looking...well...except I may say fuck a little more.  

I truly believe that my parental units should be able to peek in on my life at any point without warning and be proud. (Well. Except for that whole naughty nurse and dirty doctor thing...yeah...we'll just pretend that stethoscope had it's own agenda okay? Bad stethoscope...baaaaaad!) They should know, without a doubt, that I am the aggregation of all of them and I am better because of all of them.

So to the parental unit that gave me my wit, sarcasm and bullshit detection superpower and who is reading this blog, thank you for your personal contribution. I couldn't be me without you and I'm sorry it took so many years to figure that out. 

A tasty elbow

If you're someone who hates to be alone this entry may make you queasy. Just a forewarning.

When I was a kid (an only child) I spent a lot of time alone, either in my room or watching TV. Some of it was by choice but some of it was because I was grounded (not even for good stuff by the way...it was for lousy stuff...some day I need to learn to misbehave for real *throws a pen on the floor* Wait, someone could step on that and fall down...damn, I suck at this.)

What I learned from that solitude is that I can really entertain the hell out of myself. I only needed a few toys (green army men, Legos, fire or some combination of green army men and fire) and I could sit for hours. Army men, Legos and fire gave way to computers at some point and, well, that's kind of where I landed. I found that computers had the patience for me and I had the patience for them. It was kind of a synergy.

I learned, also, to be completely self sufficient. There's nothing I can't do to take care of myself...well, I can't lick my elbow...but I've not found a reason I "needed" to do that...yet. Great, now my elbow looks tasty. Damn.

You may think, "oh, how sad," but it was either be alone or risk the slings and arrows of the other kids. Don't get me wrong, I'd still play with the other kids when they needed one more person to play a game or if they were bored but I wouldn't go so far as to say we were close. We were convenient. That concept of a "childhood friend" really didn't exist in the proper form so I was my own friend.

That's not a request for pity; I didn't mind being alone. It meant I didn't "have" to go anywhere. I didn't have to run or ride my bike seven blocks.  I didn't "have" to do anything I didn't want to do. When you're alone you're on your own schedule. Maybe it's "sweet lemons," I don't know, I never really thought of it as a bad thing.

My current situation is that I'm living alone until things get organized and my wife can join me. Some folks have expressed that it must suck and indeed it does. But it sucks because we're not together. It doesn't suck because I'm alone. It's an important difference. Do you need someone in your life because you need them, as in them proper, or because you don't know how to live in your own skin.

You see, I know how to live in my own skin. It's cozy and fits me just right. That said, I also need my wife but I need her because it's her, not because it's someone. She's just the right kind of crazy with a good helping of confidence a dash of feminine wiles and a whole heap of brains. 

So as I go about my life enjoying my private time, the quiet moments between now and "not now," I will quietly entertain the hell outta myself until my wife can I can be together.

Now, if you don't mind, I need to run...*checks his watch*...I've got absolutely nothing to do.

Ignorance is the new smart

A friend called me yesterday just to say hello and to go, "aaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeeeee!"

He'd recently decided to change jobs and was concerned he'd made a bad decision. Fortunately for him the decision wasn't bad he just needed to look at it from another angle which, I think, helped him.

As much as I hang symbolism and meaning on that which is meaningless other folks like to hang history and the future on their decisions. That is to say, he'd already dressed his decision in the suit of a certain future. All I asked him to do was to step back and look at those clothes. Sure, maybe it is a tacky, out of date suit, but what if he wore it ironically?

Okay, I'm speaking in metaphors.  Sorry. He'd made a decision to take a new job and didn't realize what a large part of that job would entail. He didn't believe he'd be good at that part of the job so he started to panic. As an outside observer I explained there were other ways to approach it which seemed to settle his mind. I don't know why smart, talented folks sometimes lose their confidence but it happens and it takes us slower folks to point out the simpler solutions. He was really just taking too much personal history into account and was already seeing what the future could look like.  

Whether I helped him or not in the long run, at least in the short run he could stop panicking and get home. 

The cliche is that every dark cloud has a silver lining. But I've always thought that saying was trite. 

Dark clouds like to obscure the routes to change. It's only after bumbling around in them for a while do you find your way out to a different world.  You'd have not found that path if you hadn't stepped into the cloud and possibly some of those paths didn't exist without the cloud. Don't forget, however, it's how you moved through the cloud that gave you the opportunity. Take responsibility for your decisions and enjoy the rewards. No, it's cool. No one minds. Even silver linings are useless if you don't act on them.

I just had to remind a friend that to "see" the sliver lining, the path out of the dark cloud, you sometimes have to look behind you and to the left.  Sometimes you have to look straight up, or down and sometimes you have to hunker down and just wait for it to pass.

I'm not particularly wise, or even wise at all. All you have to do is look at the path my life has taken to see where my own "wise" decisions have gotten me. 

What I am, however, is someone who's willing to listen to friends and offer up some thoughts that by their very nature will be different from their own. More often than not my friends will hate all of the options I come up with and settle on the one that they liked in the first place.  At least now they'd worked through all of the ridiculous choices and felt justified in their decision.

Maybe that's why we ask for advice. Maybe, to assuage the guilt of making the decision we know we have to make, we ask for advice we know we won't consider. Maybe the the dumb guy (hellloooo!) is more valuable in helping us self actualize. 

Is it possible that ignorance is the new smart?

It's on me

In going through the process of figuring out what to do when a family member has passed I've decided that my arrangements will be done a certain way in advance.

We are going to determine where we're going and how we're getting there. We already know we're going to be cremated so the question is what the urns should be. The right time to pick them is now, when we're at a point in our lives that truly reflect who we are as people (young, virile, full of love for each other...etc.)

My wife has also already purchased a place for our ashes so that's a done deal. Though it's near her father. If you think a father waving a shotgun around when you meet your girlfriend for your first date is intimidating try knowing that you'll be buried near your wife's father forever. Wow. Not bad necessarily but...wow.

The next question is where we'll hold services. Between the two of us we've got family and friends all over the country. We need to get that answered.

The "agenda" of how the funeral will go. There are things that we want said and not said. Music we want played and events we want to happen. We need to think and talk about that.

You see, when you lose a loved one that's not when you want to be doing these things. You don't want to be asking yourself is this is what they wanted. You'll know. All you should have to do is sign a piece of paper and hand it to someone and say, "make it so." 

I want my wife to be focused on getting her life in order after I pass rather than deciding what and how I would prefer my funeral service to be executed. That's like rubbing salt into an already angry wound.

Look, we wrote our own vows when we got married and had a non-traditional wedding so I think it's fair and expected that we'd have non-traditional funerals. Planning ahead can solve that problem.

At this point I'm going to give you my advice. You'll ignore it and 20 years from now you'll shake your head in frustration that you didn't listen. 

1. Decide on how you want to be interred. 
2. Buy your final resting place.
3. Write it down in your will.
4. Decide on how you want your funeral to go. 
5. Write THAT down in your will.

Pay for everything you can in advance! Plot, casket/urn, whatever. Get it paid for or at least have the money set aside.

I assure you that having gone through this now that it felt unnatural and hurried. Managing the departure of a loved one should not be a logistic or administrative hassle. 

I ask you now to find your spouse and ask them how they want to address their passing. I assure you the conversation, if you've not had it, will be illuminating and satisfying. At the very least, when you're asked the question, "how would he have wanted it?" You'll not have to answer, "we never talked about it."

That said, I've asked my wife to cremate me and tuck me away quickly and cheaply then take the $6k (adjusted of course) and throw one hell of a party. Throw a party with good food, drink, music and whatever in Manhattan or Vegas to ensure everyone has a great night. Pay for their flights, rooms and whatever else. Hire limos and whatever it takes to blow it out. Remember me by living your lives in extraordinary ways. Take one night and remember why you are living your life.

...and enjoy the scotch. It's on me.