There Are Headlines No One Reads
There are headlines no one reads because they get lost in the chaos and clutter of the blogosphere and life.
That is the kind of declarativeÂ statementÂ some people take issue with because they miss the forest for the trees. They look at it and say something about how people read it and moved on because it had a weak call to action. That may be true but it doesn
They look at it and say something about how people read it and moved on because it had a weak call to action. That may be true but it doesn’t negate the truth about its lack of visibility.
What you see and don’t remember might as well have not been written/created because if it doesn’t move you it doesn’t work.
I didn’t use it today because I want to talk about headlines but because I thought it would be read and shared by more people than “What Kind of Father Hides From His Dreams.”
Or maybe it would be better to say something like “What Happens When You Get What You Want?”
That is really where my head is at.
One Slip & It is Over
My cousin died last week.
Three days before my 46th birthday and about six months before his 48th.
It was an accident.
I don’t have many details to share but even if I did I probably wouldn’t. I am too busy thinking about…stuff.
For a while he was like the older brother I never had. He was a wild child and trouble never had to find him because he found it.
He had a big heart and we had a lot of fun together.
And then comes the proverbial ‘but’ where I tell you I haven’t seen or talked to him in years. It wasn’t because we had a falling out or anything like that.
It is because he spent time working on fishing boats and assorted odd jobs that took him far away and life is busy.
The last time I saw him he invited me to come see him at his place in the Pacific Northwest. He told me you could only get there by Jeep or some other four wheel drive vehicle.
We would ride in ATVs or motorcycles and catch up, but obviously it never happened and now it can’t.
My cousin’s death is a reminder to me about what kind of father and person I want to be. It is a not so gentle nudge to be an active participant in life who doesn’t wait until the perfect time comes to try to live my dreams.
For me the hardest part of living those dreams is trying to balance the wishes of my family against my personal ones.
It is trying to look through the mist that obscures the future to see if trying to rope the moon is going to help or hinder my children.
What Happens When You Get What You Want?
If you go way back in the archives here you’ll find posts I wrote about my dysfunctional digestive system.
Some of those are funny stories.
People loveÂ A Little Digestive Distress- Chicken VindalooÂ andÂ Jackâ€™s Experience In the Ladies Room.
Most of the time I tend to laugh at them too but lately I haven’t laughed about them because since I started the new job almost every day has been filled with some rough moments that make it clear to me the old digestive system is not a fan of the new employment.
The old gut feeling doesn’t like this much and I don’t like the response of that old gut feeling.
There is no reason to feel sick each day and I am actively working on making a change toÂ correctÂ that.
But here is the rub, there is a part of me that is a bit nervous about it all. A part of me that says there is merit in dealing with the devil you know.
A part of me that says I should suck it up and stop whining because this is all ridiculous.
Except, it is not ridiculous. It is not necessary to feel this way and I refuse to do it any longer than I have to.
Active change is the only answer here.
It means that if what I hope for happens I need to ignore the fear of the unknown and walk through the door.
I need that for me as a person and I need it as a father because my children need to see that dad does more than what is required.
He works to make things better even when he can’t tell if he is holding a winning hand.
I can’t let being concerned about the inherent uncertainty of change prevent me from going forwards. Better to take the risk and find out than to spend the rest of my life living with the regret of not knowing.
The Imp May 12, 2015 at 7:17 am
Sorry for your loss, Jack <3
Jack May 12, 2015 at 9:55 pm
Larry May 12, 2015 at 4:43 am
Sorry for the loss of your cousin – that’s too young.
Maybe your health issues are related to the other things going on in your life.
I hope the job is going well.
Jack May 12, 2015 at 9:56 pm
It is all stress. Sometimes you know when something just isn’t right for you.
Kathy Radigan May 11, 2015 at 11:19 am
I am so sorry for your loss. I have to say the only thing I don’t like about growing up is losing people I love. Please know my thoughts are with you and your family.
Jack May 11, 2015 at 7:23 pm
Thank you. It’s never fun to say goodbye to people we expected to be around for a long time to come.
yanique May 11, 2015 at 10:08 am
My condolences. I truly enjoyed reading this essay because it serves as a stark reminder that life waits for no one. We can put off our dreams until tomorrow, but the truth is, tomorrow is never promised.
Jack May 11, 2015 at 7:22 pm
That’s a good way to express it, tomorrow is never promised. We forget about how thin the ties to mortality can be.
Jens-Petter Berget May 11, 2015 at 9:53 am
Iâ€™m sorry to read about your cousin. As I get older I think more about life (and death), and it becomes more important to focus and have fun every day.
Jack May 11, 2015 at 6:45 pm
Thank you Jens. It is very important to have fun each day, never know what can happen.
Janine Huldie May 11, 2015 at 9:43 am
Jack, I am so sorry about the loss of your cousin and know over the years that no matter how close you may be at the time that a family member or friend passes, it still is a loss and makes you think, as well as take stock. Thinking of you and sending some good vibes your way.
Jack May 11, 2015 at 6:39 pm
Thank you Janine. It was unexpected. I always sort of wonder about that expression, because it strikes me as being so damn obvious, that it is almost not worth saying.
But it was and I did and now we go on. That is the best I can do to honor him.
kat May 11, 2015 at 9:39 am
These two sentiments don’t really go together but are both fitting:
I’m very sorry about your cousin. Forty-eight is far too young to go.
Happy forty-sixth birthday!
I’m forty-five myself and so I find myself nodding at a lot of the things that you write about. It seems to be where we are in life; trying to balance what your “gut” needs with the needs of your family is a complicated thing. I haven’t found that balance yet but am hoping that my gut will speak up when it does so that I don’t miss it.
Jack May 11, 2015 at 1:43 pm
It’s a funny time of life. I don’t feel old, most of the time I picture myself as if I’m still 25.
But there are moments where it’s clear I’m not, especially when I think about my career.
There’s still a ton of time left or so one would guess. I suppose my cousin helped remind me we never know just how much sand is left in the glass.
Gary Mathews May 11, 2015 at 9:03 am
So sorry to hear about your cousin, death always sucks no matter the circumstances.
Jack May 11, 2015 at 1:25 pm
Thank you, no good answers or reasons for this one.