I’m killing some time before I start work. It’s been an uneventful trip to work. The morning started with my cat waking me up wanting food. She’s been like this for a few weeks, nudging me to wake up and feed her. It was cute at first but now it’s an annoyance I’ll still tolerate. She’s been eating a lot of food and I’m trying to get her to eat less. Of course she’s bothering me to get more food.
I think I want to take a big trip for my 55 birthday in two years. I’ve gotten hooked on YouTube videos recently showing airline trip in business and first class going all over the world. The amenities and hospitality looks wonderful. I’ve had a bunch of friends who routinely take long trips to different places across the globe and my global wanderlust is calling. Taking the occasional trip to San Diego, Tijuana or Cleveland isn’t enough. I need something bold and a real adventure.
Another reason for branching out is something I was thinking about when I was walking to the bus stop. I’ve been in a rut for a longer time than I’ve realized. I’ve isolated myself for a number of reasons, but I’ve become so comfortable in that isolation I’m worried about what that’s doing to me. I’ve had some interesting talks with my mother recently, and I’m reluctantly realizing I’m becoming a lot like my father. I think I can understand a number of issues my father is going through and because I sensed this behavior at a very young age, I think I started taking on a lot of my father’s characteristics without realizing it. Now that I’m older, I’m seeing a pattern that I’m not comfortable with.
There’s seriously a lot of dynamics going on between my parents, which I know I dealt with by assuming, incorrectly as it turns out, that isolation would be the best way to deal with the issues I saw with my parents. Now, as I watch them in their older years, I don’t like what I’m seeing. For them, I guess their relationship works well because they have been married for over 50 years. When I visited my parents a few years ago, the constant bickering and nitpicking drove me crazy. It just made me more resolute that my decision of keeping to myself, for the most part, was the best thing for me.
That’s was before the health issues, before the weird self-reflection I’ve had last year. Along with the recent heath concerns with my father, I’m understanding I’m achieved to goal of keeping to myself but I don’t have that support system a family would give me. No significant other and no kids makes for a rut right now. I mean, when I leave this moral bonds, who would leave my comic book and other collectables to? My comics are something I have dragged along since I’ve been in junior high and I don’t have anyone to will them to when I die. When I go, they could just be thrown away.
What about Chaotic Fringe? I’ve been writing articles for the many publications for over twenty years. When I finally die will all those articles be digitally lost?
With a family, good or bad there would be people who would remember me, who might have a toast for me. I don’t have that now so, as far as I can tell, I could die tomorrow and I would have no impact on anyone.
Ever since my sister died, legacy had been something I’ve been concerned and confused about. When my sister died, my parents and other family members remembered my sister is glowing terms. She became a saint in their eyes. I’ve tried to remember her as a real person, with warts, faults, goodness and hope. Like all of us, she was complicated, but maybe as a way of dealing my parents and family thought of her as doing no wrong. Even when the article came out in Glamour magazine about my sister’s death, my parents refused to acknowledge the article. They wanted to cling to the saintly few of her rather than the real person.
I realize I’m not going to be the son my parents want me to be. They have already said, in so many words, that I’m a disappointment to them. I’m not the man they wanted me to be. It makes sense that they would embrace the cousin I don’t speak about and treat him as their son. He makes the money I don’t have, he has the family I don’t. I have a cat, he has a daughter.
My life hasn’t been defined by traditional route and I’ve taken knocks for not taking the road my parents and others wanted me to take, but I’ve had a life, and will continue to live life, as a complicated journey. Now, how I’m going to branch out this isolated funk I find myself in I’m not sure. There are things, medically, which I’m dwelling on after getting a sense of some of the issues my father is facing. Self-diagnosis is a dangerous thing. Possibly, if I had good health care, I might try to check myself out and see if some issues I suspect I have can be verified, but that’s not going to happen.
The only option I have is to forge ahead, live my life to the best of my ability. One thing, kind of aside from the minor self-revelation downer I’ve just gone over, is that I’m going to try and dive back into some of the creative projects I’d been working on. That’s when my mind, body and spirit felt alive and I miss those feelings.