Honest, loyal, senior software engineer, looking to make a real difference by putting people first.
Wow….it’s been quite “the” year.
At the LGBTQ party hosted by the US Embassy in Mexico
I’m not sure how most measure their years??? I measure mine not only by time, but by distance as well. We just need to to define our distance metric =]
There has been one particular thing that did happen however that has been more than “quite” amazing.
I took a chance! That’s always scary of course….but isn’t that what life is all about?
It hasn’t all been rose coloured glasses though. I’m finding myself mostly frustrated these days.
What’s worse, I feel like I’m clasping at my last straws of empathy….well….I don’t know that I totally agree with that.
One of the things that keeps me feeling human at this point in time is selfless giving. I don’t mean the selfless giving that is unhealthy, I mean the giving that made me empty my pockets to the family living in their street truck. It seems like such a simple gesture, but I would much rather actually see the smile, interact with the human, than have my bank account auto send a donation “somewhere”.
Regardless of those giving glimmers, in the daily drone, that daily hum, I do find myself thinking that I’m surrounded by completely clueless people. Trouble is, I know that “that” cannot be true.
I’m also now feeling more than ever, the constant tick of the clock. A constant that reminds me that I am on the slow burn home…and that tick only continues to get louder. Finding time seems to be the hardest thing of all. I mean, my last blog post was April…it’s November FFS and I’m still trying to find time to finish this! It’s not even about shifting priorities anymore!
And I guess there is still one thing lingering that I need to put to rest.
It’s been years since we last spoke.
My father taught me that “Manners, maketh the man”, and that “Patience is a virtue”, trouble is we have reality to contend with.
My father is a drunk.
My father physically abused and raped my mum.
Lets just say it’s a difficult delimma distinguishing values.
He is now 72 years of age and I know there can’t be “too” much gas left in the tank. I’ve been replaying and repeating, how this next interaction will play out. What I would say? How would I confront? Would I even confront him at all? But I recently had some good advice, the next interaction is not about him at all. The next interaction is entirely about me.
“Dad, I am no longer scared of you, I do not live in fear. I didn’t make your choices. I am not a mistake.
I’m just me Dad, and I don’t need to prove that to you anymore."
I’m not sure how most measure their years, I guess the question is, what is your metric?