Note: While I’ve stated some of this in the past, it’s been more specific to being a developer or my career – this is a personal post, something from the heart, and something I need to “let out” before moving forward into focusing my writing on coding, technology, and the next chapter.
As a kid, there was this big thing I wanted to do for my dad at some point in my life – one of those “thank you” style ideas that meant something to me; I wanted to be able to buy him his dream 1940’s Chevy pickup truck.
Over the years, time flew past me (partially due to being a father myself to an amazing kiddo) and this dream would fall to the wayside – I’ve mentioned it to my wife many times over the years, but it’s never been feasible.
So here we are, some time since Father’s Day, and my dad got his truck – not from me, but he finally gave in and got one himself. But I haven’t even seen it – while I might try to be the best father to my son daily, I’m not the greatest son myself.
After my mother passed away a few years back, life changed – I hadn’t been in her life for years due to our relationship, and quite honestly, she came back into my life at the craziest of times.
Driving down the road back to our house at the time, I broke down in tears one day in the car – all over this truck dream. I had my own family, my little three amigos, but I had this gut feeling that something was coming down the pipeline I wasn’t prepared for, whether about my mother or my father.
Now you see, my real “father” wasn’t in my life, and my dad didn’t have to step up to take on the role of being there for me – but he did; he raised me the best he could, instilled the best values possible, and the idea that family was always first.
A mentality, especially now, which I do not take lightly.
But when my mother came back into my life (which wasn’t long after the above) – I wasn’t wrong, something bad was coming – I only got about six months with her before cancer took her from this world.
Cold, callous, blind, and uncaring – if it wasn’t coding or working, I was failing at it, but luckily I’m amazing at putting on a facade for those around me.
When she came back, it was like the old version of my mom was alive; the person who honestly and truly did love those around her, the person who only wanted the best for me, and someone who wasn’t looking for a reason to attack or argue… not something we’d had for almost 20 years.
As an adult, and having never lost anyone or anything in my life at that point, losing her was a death blow for me – I almost lost my wife, I almost gave up on my career, and I almost let it all eat me inside and out.
The reason I say all of this is because Father’s Day and the anniversary of my mother passing away fell on the same day this year – something I thought would be very hard on me, but for the first time since she’s been gone, I saw a Moon Pie today (her favorite snack) and didn’t cry or become sad, I remembered that she’s in a better place and she’s looking down on me wanting the best.
She’s been the silent hand helping move pieces back into the right places in my life; the things that I completely broke and/or tore apart since the days she been gone have come back together and it’s time (even I can’t count the number of people I’ve hurt during that era of my life).
It’s time for a big, fantastic, and powerful reboot of my life.
IF YOU FAIL TO PLAN, YOU PLAN TO FAIL.
You see, I love to write, and I use to do it constantly – a love passed down from my mother. If I had a history of every blog, every article, and all of my notebooks from over the years you’d see all of this – but I’m thankful for a fresh start.
A start to see something beautiful; a chance to truly chase my real goals and passions (not some idea generated from imposter syndrome or depression), a chance to take care of my family, and an opportunity to be the best I can be in life.
Much like your muscles when working out – they require being “damaged” in order to heal and grow – your brain is the same; time, healing, therapy, and processing generates the same strength.
Seeing as how my mother died young, or I should say young to me, I had this idea that I’m only going to live to be the same age and I just need to make it that far – that’s no longer the case and I know where I want to be in life.
As I sit (err… lay) here with one cat curled up next to me, my wife sound asleep on the other side, another cat at my feet, another under the bed, my kiddo passed out from swimming all day, a house over our heads, a career, and job I’m blessed to have – I realize it’s all okay.
While I might not be where I expected to be by this point in my life, I’m not quite “late to the party” as the party is just getting underway – while I’m still figuring out all of those “next moves” and creating the plan of attack for the next chapter of my life, also knowing that every choice comes with a sacrifice, it’s time. It’s time to join the party, it’s time to take a chance on the next era of life.
There is no parachute, there is no guarantee, but… it’s time to say goodbye to an era.