A Look Inside

When was the last time you took a good long look at yourself? We all have those defining moments in our lives when we feel the need to reflect and reconsider. My life has had several of those defining moments. Most of them seem to have been in the past couple of years. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not so shallow as to say I never looked back until recently. When I graduated from high school it was a time to consider the highs and lows of those four years. As I received a bachelor’s degree I looked at my single life to that point. Shortly after that I got married and looked forward to a lifelong future. When I got a master’s degree I realized how much I had not yet mastered. But lately things have been a little more chaotic and more and more I have looked inward at things that have happened.

The past two years have seen the unwanted disintegration of that marriage that I had looked forward to being a lifelong love affair. The career I had chosen and worked so hard to earn the master’s degree to follow also went the way of the dodo. Financial crises and struggles with depression have also made me wonder who I really am. But this latest occurrence would make anyone look around and wonder: “Who am I?” My dad is dying of emphysema.

My dad, John Romig, is a man I love. He wanted so many things for me that he never had. We have had major differences and disagreements over the years and have had even greater joys and jocularities since then. I gave him grief over smoking for years and nearly blew his nose off when I put three cigarette loads in one of his Salem’s. He gave me grief over putting explosives in his smokes. When I say “grief” I mean a grounding for a month. When I told him that I was not going to be a doctor and not going to go in the army to pay for it he thought I was making biggest mistake of my life. We didn’t speak for months after that. With some work on both our parts we overcame that major meltdown and rebuilt a new relationship. What we have now I would not trade for anything. Our adult relationship is still a father-son relationship but it has also matured into a kind of friendship like no other. It is the relationship I wanted with him as a child and young adult but neither of us could find it. It is the kind of relationship I am trying to build with my sons. It took a tearing down of the old to build something new with my dad and me.

As I look inward, that is a great way to describe what my life is becoming. The old has been and is still being torn down to build something new. Change is part of life. I think mine has been stagnant for quite some time. It has taken nearly all the structures of my life to be torn down to the foundations for something new to be built. And I have even done some excavating on those foundations, too! It is my hope that the upcoming passing of my father will be the last of the major tearing down for now. But as I look at myself it is a major revelation that the tearing down and building up is an unending process. Every day in sometimes tiny and sometimes large ways something is torn down in our lives and every day something new is built. I never really looked at it that way. Change seems to be the only thing that doesn’t change. Every day we see something new rising like a Phoenix from the ashes of something old. To me this is something new to ponder. I hope that I’m not the only one who didn’t look at the world like this.

An Attitude Adjustment

There are those days when we just need to get an attitude adjustment. I remember one time I was in the mall for some unknown reason that may have part of a governmental brain washing technique. As I was walking I couldn’t help but overhear a conversation between these two kids who were walking along. I mean I really had to walk fast to keep up with them so I could accidentally overhear them. One turned to the other and said, “Dude! Tude!”

The rhyming was impressive. The meaning behind this poetry was truly challenging to discern. After a great deal of careful analysis and many nanoseconds of contemplation I came upon the meaning behind these words. The translation is: “My friend. Our comradry and  fun-filled times have been compromised by a certain way of behavior that will continue to drive a wedge between us until it leads to an end of our companionship unless serious changes are made in your attitude.” I think “Dude! Tude!” says it a lot better.

I think that someone needed to walk up to me and say: “Dude! Tude!” My attitude for the past year and a half has – and I use this word in its kindest meaning – sucked. There have been days when I have hated God, the world, my ex, Howard Stern and butterscotch pudding. I know what you’re thinking: How can he mention Stern and pudding in the same sentence? It takes talent and a twisted mind.

But there is something to be said for letting it go. Now I can stop being mad at God, the world and butterscotch pudding. The ex and Howard Stern may take some more time if it ever happens. But it was time to stop being such a major jerk and let go of my anger. That was one of my New Year’s resolutions. Stop being so angry all the time. The only person it was really hurting was me. When I woke up yesterday it seemed like something had changed. I know that there is still a lot of work to do on my damaged psyche; however, I do feel good about myself for a change.

My attitude is better for now. I hope it lasts.

Love in the First Degree

Back in my younger, more innocent days I heard a song that really stuck with me for years. It was by Alabama and it was called “Love in the First Degree.” There is one line that says, “Now babe I’m not beggin’ for mercy. Go ahead and throw the book at me. If lovin’ you’s a crime… I know that I’m… as guilty as a man can be. I’m guilty of love in the first degree.” There are days when I can’t even remember how that felt.

This Christmas a friend said that they hoped I would find the gift of love. Well, I know what it is like to love my family. The love I have for my sons goes beyond words. I would die for them in a heartbeat. Living for them is an even greater challenge. It has never impressed me when someone says they love someone enough to die for them. That is just a onetime deal. Living for someone is lifelong commitment. That is something that I will do for my boys as long as I breathe. Loving my parents and siblings is also something I know well. Liking them sometimes is a challenge but I do always love them. Living a thousand miles away from them makes it easier in some ways and harder in others.

I understand the love of friends. Through the trials and tribulations of the past triennium those true friends have proven themselves time after time, when I was not easy to love. Loving them back is so easy that it hardly seems like it takes any effort. Good and true friends are rare and need to be appreciated and loved with the same kind of unconditionally love that they have for you. In the movie Tequila Sunrise (a good movie but an even better drink) The drug dealer Carlos said that friendship is the only choice we have. You can’t choose your family and you can’t always control what sexual chemistry leads you to do.  If you have seen the movie you may remember that is not an exact quote; but I’m trying to keep this PG.

But the last kind of love is the love that two people feel for one another. I just don’t know if I can feel that anymore. That love in the first degree has left me since my heart was broken a while back. There is something missing in me. Those who have been there know what I mean. Those who have never been there… there are no words to describe it. But I’ll try. Imagine always being hungry but nothing looks or tastes good. Imagine being thirsty but nothing will quench the thirst. The desire to love is there but it feels like that particular kind of love will not come to the surface.

I know what you’re thinking. “Don’t worry Doug. It’ll come back.” Here is the sad, sick, twisted part: Part of me doesn’t want it to come back. If you don’t love someone with all that you are and all that you have, then that person cannot throw all that away. What it really comes down to is, at this point in my life, I don’t have the ability or the desire to love like that. It really is a shame. I used to love so much and so strongly that losing that part of me is almost like dying. Now I know that I will recover from my broken heart someday. The real question is will my head ever let my heart take the chance on love in the first degree. I wish I knew the answer.

Nice Guys

It has been said that nice guys finish last. It seems like every time I do the right thing it all gets turned around on me. Why do you think that is? Yes I am a little bitter today. Whether is it work or personal it seems that no good deed goes unpunished. Is it the way of the world or the working of the evil? Is there a difference?

For decades I have believed that the forms of evil are the devil, the world and my own sinful self. I still believe that all those come into the arena every day. But it seems like there are times when those forces are working stronger than others. Today is one of those days. What is the way of dealing with those issues? Prayer has helped in the past. Anger is always an option. Despair is not too much fun. I wonder what would happen with meditation. Or perhaps medication.

Some people choose to feel sorry for themselves. Others may get mad about the situation. There is depression to look forward to. Others find solace in alcohol and sexual satisfaction. I think I know my course of action. I choose a different course that I think you may want to try too.

There is a different form of self medication that I am considering. Let’s take all the problems in our lives and let them go. Now take that energy you would use to get mad or sad and turn it to something productive. Today I got some bad news at work that made me think nice guys finish last. The option of becoming like the others crossed my mind for quite a while. But I have decided that being a good person is what I want to be. I don’t want to become that which I hate. Fame and fortune may not be in the cards for me but I will actually be able to look myself in the mirror when I wake up from a sound, peaceful sleep.

Dream A Little Dream

I have written about unrealized dreams but this time I want to share with you one of my dreams for the future that will never happen the way I hoped. Have you ever had this fantasy about the way things we going to turn out? It is right there in your mind’s eye as clear as crystal. And then you realize it was about as clear as Disney glass you got by buying a Happy Meal at McDonalds and you are Goofy. That is how this dream feels to me right now.

Picture it if you will. There I am looking good for an old man. I have retired after a successful career of making people’s lives better. Even though I never got rich I made enough to have a comfortable retirement. The retirement home sits in the hill country around Austin, Texas overlooking Lake Travis. A xeriscaped yard makes the need to mow something that my grandkids will not be able to use to get some cash out of this old dude. They will have to get it the old fashioned way: emotional blackmail. A little trail leads down to a nice little dock where my pontoon boat sits waiting to be taken out. The house is small but comfy. It is nothing to get excited about. It is just big enough without being too much work. And the back deck is the place where the morning cup of coffee is enjoyed with the woman I have loved since I was young. Sadly that dream is gone.

Don’t get me wrong. The house on the lake with the view and the boat and the emotional blackmailing lawn are still part of my dream. For me the best part was going to be retiring there with the love of my life. That love has gone. It is sad for me to think about what might have been. I had that in my head for years and now I have to clean the glass. The crystal cracked. What am I saying? It shattered! That really hurts more than I thought. It wasn’t until very recently that I starting thinking about that. Loosing someone you once cared about has so many levels of loss that it is hard to find the words to describe it all. That is one of the reasons I write. It is to exorcise those demons like Richard Simmons on meth. (And yes that image scares me as much as it does you.)

But just because that dream has died it doesn’t mean a new one can’t take its place. My life is taking so many new directions that I can’t even imagine where it is going to take me. There is one thing I do know: it will be something new that I can’t even dream about yet.

This Old House

Have you ever been in a position that you know what you need to do but also are afraid of doing it? Now I could make some crude, sexual innuendo at this point and my friends know that I’m not above that. (Once again there is another opportunity.) But this time I believe I’ll just tell you what I’m really thinking. It is all about my home. My house is ready to go on the market and I am both hating and loving this.

The hating comes from a couple areas. First off this is the longest I have lived in one place since I left home in 1986. Living here for seven years may not seem like that much to you; but it is something special to me. I remember when the house was first purchased. We were unpacking the bounty of boxes that moving makes us maneuver. Walking down the stairs I had a vision for my hopes and I looked around and saw what could be. Furniture featured in this future. Decorations and décor in this domicile were displayed. The warmth of a fire and the warmth of a loving family featured in this fantasy. And now it is going away.

The second part of the sadness comes from the loss of family that I feel. The marriage that was such a part of this house malfunctioned. The sons who shined here are only here half time. The dream of the white picket fence has become a nightmare. (And I never wanted a white picket fence anyway. Chartreuse perhaps…) My house is haunted not my ghosts and goblins but by the ghost of relationships past. What was once a sanctuary has now become a sanatorium for a touch of insanity. There are things that touch me in ways that are not good for me. It is a shock when you realize that you don’t even like your bedroom anymore. It is time to make a break and this is a healthy one!

That brings up to the loving part. It is time to close the door on this house in my life. That is part of my past. Now it is time for my future. I may not ever have a 2100 square foot house again. In fact I don’t really want one that big. The boys are growing up and will soon be only coming back for visits. It has been a long time since I had an apartment but I think I remember how they work. You have neighbors who make nasty noise at odd hours. A garage for your car is a luxury. There is always that one person who creeps you out. Sounds like fun!

Well one thing is for sure. There is a time for everything and season for everything under the sun. The season for this house is the season of selling. Wish me luck! Anybody looking for a nice, seven-year-old, two story, one-owner house?

Unrealized Dreams

We all have hopes and dreams of what may be for each of us. Many people even take the time to write out their hopes and dreams in order to develop a well-reasoned, orderly plan to achieve these lofty goals and have the fame, fortune, and future they desire. Then there is the other 99.999999999% of us who like to dream for the sake of dreaming without any hopes of actually achieving these fantasies. So many of us have either consciously or unconsciously adopted the philosophy: “If at first you don’t succeed, lower your expectations until you do.” Why do we give up on our dreams of bigger and better things and settle for the status quo, average lives that seem so mundane and minuscule?

There is a theory presented by a fine mind (modesty forbids me from telling you it’s me) that our unrealized dreams are not merely unfulfilled disasters; but are really a means to give us hope. Think about it. Let’s say you are forty-two and have not accomplished everything I..I mean YOU planned. You had such dreams of things you wanted to accomplish during the first half of your life and now you can see the big FOUR-OH has come and gone. As you take a figurative look at the list of dreams that you have never written down and wonder why you haven’t accomplished hardly anything on that list, it occurs to you: Maybe I should have written them down. After you laugh at the nonsense of the written word and impossibility of its impact on your mental state, it then crosses your mind that life is not over yet.

They say that forty is the new twenty. Of course “they” are people in their forties so there may be just an insignificant possibility of a slight bias on their reasoning. Meanwhile, the twenty-somethings are sitting there thinking, “Yeah. Right. Keep deluding yourself there grandpa.” But I digress.

If forty is middle aged, then we can consider that the dreams we had as teens and tweens are not out of reach. If (and this is a very big IF) forty is the new twenty, then there is still hope for all those unrealized dreams. But, (and this is a big BUT that may have something to do with the forties – let’s not go there today) if our dreams are not just unrealized but unattainable, I don’t think I want to know. I’m happier living in an Egyptian river than knowing that my hopes of being the bass player for the coolest rock band on the planet may be beyond my reach as a 42-year-old father.

Sweet dreams.