This blog started in a different format a little over a year ago, albeit in a different form. It started shortly after my mother died at 59 of the most “curable” form of cancer, non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Cancer blows, but that is for another post on another day. The thing that happens when you are faced with one of the most difficult times of your life is you find out real quick who your real friends are. I know that sounds cliché but if you are ever there you’ll find out I”m right.
So, it turns out that the few people who actually care about me were all still in my home town. You know, that place that you spend your entire youth trying like hell to escape. Well, I escaped, or I thought I did… I spent 12 years in the big city and had no intentions of ever returning. But a funny thing happened on the way to the forum… My marriage fell apart and my mother got sick. I’m not real sure which happened first or how one is related to the other, but they happened roughly the same time about 4 years ago. It was obviously the most difficult thing (s) I had ever endured.
It then became clear that the people I had worked with in said big city for 10 years didn’t give two shits about me. At least not deeply and spiritually, oh they like me but didn’t like my angry, loud, and obnoxious ways. Those things only bothered them because they affected them… What would people say? Would he lose it at work? Would he shoot someone? WTF is going to happen to me if I’m to close to him? You know, the lizard…
Not one of them ever asked about my mom, never asked about what was going on in my world. That probably sounds selfish and I guess it is, but I spent every day for almost 2 years in a hospital room with my dying mother. Seems to me like the people you spend every day with might ask occasionally. And what put it in perspective for me was the fact that those people from home asked almost daily. Why were people I hardly talked to for 15 years (or more) more concerned than the people I spent everyday with for the better part of 10 years?
Anyway, my mother died on September 20, 2010 and from that moment on, things began to come into focus for me. I made 2 decisions on or about that day.
- Get the hell out of there (and move home).
- Find happiness.
So the first one is done. I have returned home. I get to see my dad on a regular basis. I get to see my friends all the time. It’s a good time in my life from the standpoint of not dealing with people who don’t care about me and I don’t trust.
The real trick is number two on the list. When I talk about happiness, I talk in relative terms. I was miserable for a long time. Ultimately, the idea is true happiness. Intrinsically happy. Happy because of the people in my life. Happy because of how I feel about myself. But that is still a work in progress. The plan is to work toward that ideal everyday.
Thus, I embark on a journey for true happiness. I will fight the lizard brain inside me. This is the journey for great food, good drink, real friends, and adventure.
Hang on for the ride because I have no idea where we are going…..
