Leading up to my eighteenth birthday, I already knew that I wanted to leave Aiken, SC. I had no idea what I wanted to do but I knew I needed to leave. I had a GPA that reflected the sub-par passion I had for school and knew it would get me no where but a local, community college and I tried that route. Regardless of my terrible collegiate effort, in 1998, having a few hundred dollars in my pocket and with my parents help, my brother and all his support took a one-way flight to Atlanta. Next thing I knew, I was following my parents to the airport and then he rode shotgun while we headed North. This is what I wanted at the time.
Looking back now, since then I have done nothing but roam from situation to situation (whether it be logistical or romantic) becoming a proverbial vagabond; an emotional nomad. Since then, in 18 more years, I have bounced around between Arizona and a relationship here, to South Carolina and a relationship there and then ultimately to Michigan with relationships everywhere... nothing lasting more than 4 years; marriage included. In my last blog, I assimilated myself to a wrecking ball. Holy shit was I right with that.
Some people can jump from relationship to relationship without issue. When they find the one that works, they keep it and then no one knows the difference. Me? No way. For whatever nature vs. nurture or incomprehensible reason, I cannot. God forbid I look at emotional adversity with logic and move on. No...I have to dissect exactly what happened, take it in for every painful thing I perceive it to be and then, maybe then, think about moving on in some light regard. Oh, and don't let me find some new romance during that process. I will back burner everything in sight of that new found attention and ignore the festering, obnoxiously loud pink elephant in the room that begs to be addressed... No, I will ignore Hell and high water and the swelling levy. Just when I think I have my backyard clean and think I am emotionally available and that life is good, THAT is when said levy breaks and I attempt to emotionally claim that I never saw it coming and throw up a white flag. This is both idiotic and self deprecating.
I need for the chain to my wrecking ball to cease to swing so that I can finally find my center. I achieved this two years ago. I had what I thought was perspective and a partner that worked. I thought that what I had at that time was a new momentum but we could not hold on. I have yet to deal with that and I swing violently again looking to slow. I can suffer collateral damage no longer. It hurts too much and my heart demands it to finally be still.
So, here's to slowing to a liberating halt in 2016 and finding that center again. Distractions be damned, I will finally discover the standstill that I require this year.
Wednesday, February 24, 2016
Friday, February 19, 2016
Birthday Wishes
Somewhere, possibly in London, you walk in a truly naive fashion. You entered into a relationship decades ago that has now probably been swept away in a sea of youthful learning experiences. What you learned from that broken relationship has possibly shaped the man you are today, or perhaps it has not. I don't know. I have no idea. The point is yet still naively you walk but this is no fault of your own. That fault lies with her for now.
Never in your wildest dreams would you ever fathom that that relationship you discarded so long ago could have ever yielded something with such momentous impact in your life today. Now, you probably live a life that pays no tribute to that relationship. Why would it? There would be no need. You were possibly in your early twenties, living in a country, foreign to your own. When the relationship broke apart, you headed to back England to restart. This time period probably seems like a lifetime ago.
What if I told you that relationship yielded a child that you never knew of? What if I told you that not only do you have a son that turns 37 today but a wondrously curious and starry-eyed grandson that turns 5 next month. God, is he a beautiful soul. I wish you knew. He serves as such a bright light in a dark, dreary world for me and I wish you could share in that light. As jarring as that would be, I long to see that expression on your face when you find out.
You have no idea that we even exist. There is no telegram we can order, no email we can write, no Facebook friend request we can send and there is certainly not a telephone number we can dial to find you. You will remain a stranger that I may never know and we remain a concept you have no idea to even conceive. That hurts tremendously.
My son will grow up in a family on his mothers side that he is physically related to and knows well. It is such a wonderful family to be a part of. He can look to them and physically identify the likeness between them and himself. As the representative of his his father's side, I cannot offer that convenience. You have no idea what I would pay, what I would give or what I would sacrifice for him or myself to have that luxury. There is no unit of value that identifies or encompasses that potential debt, it is emotionally priceless.
My only link to you is a woman that 8 years ago decided she wasn't ready to meet me. Your only option to learn of me resides within the guilty heart of a woman that decided to never speak of me. Her own parents, her own spouse of 25 or more years and his children have just as much of an idea that she conceived me 37 years ago today that you do; absolutely none.
I believe in the power of attraction. I believe that the things I ask the universe for will eventually come to fruition. I do not pray but every night before I fall asleep I think of you and I think of her. I send thoughts to my biological mother that she find the strength to face the adversity she must in order to find her way to me. I hope as she ages, she finally casts off the regard for what others might think of her and then she might reach out to me. This would lead me to you. I know exactly what it's like to find out you have a son, soon to be born, in the womb. I have no comprehension of what it would be like to find that your first born turns 37 today by I hope to somehow inflict that adversity upon you one day.
I've never met you but I have missed you. I wish you could feel some fraction of the emotion I felt to write this. I wish I could bare witness to the shock and tears that mine and my son's existence might perpetuate upon you. I hope we can inconvenience you one day and I will continually wish for her to take that first step in order for that to occur.
This is your son wishing you well on my birthday in hopes that you and I somehow stumble upon a broken, difficult road that leads us to one another. I look forward to sharing in the strange type of healing endeavor that only a father and son can partake in after a lifetime of being separated.
Never in your wildest dreams would you ever fathom that that relationship you discarded so long ago could have ever yielded something with such momentous impact in your life today. Now, you probably live a life that pays no tribute to that relationship. Why would it? There would be no need. You were possibly in your early twenties, living in a country, foreign to your own. When the relationship broke apart, you headed to back England to restart. This time period probably seems like a lifetime ago.
What if I told you that relationship yielded a child that you never knew of? What if I told you that not only do you have a son that turns 37 today but a wondrously curious and starry-eyed grandson that turns 5 next month. God, is he a beautiful soul. I wish you knew. He serves as such a bright light in a dark, dreary world for me and I wish you could share in that light. As jarring as that would be, I long to see that expression on your face when you find out.
You have no idea that we even exist. There is no telegram we can order, no email we can write, no Facebook friend request we can send and there is certainly not a telephone number we can dial to find you. You will remain a stranger that I may never know and we remain a concept you have no idea to even conceive. That hurts tremendously.
My son will grow up in a family on his mothers side that he is physically related to and knows well. It is such a wonderful family to be a part of. He can look to them and physically identify the likeness between them and himself. As the representative of his his father's side, I cannot offer that convenience. You have no idea what I would pay, what I would give or what I would sacrifice for him or myself to have that luxury. There is no unit of value that identifies or encompasses that potential debt, it is emotionally priceless.
My only link to you is a woman that 8 years ago decided she wasn't ready to meet me. Your only option to learn of me resides within the guilty heart of a woman that decided to never speak of me. Her own parents, her own spouse of 25 or more years and his children have just as much of an idea that she conceived me 37 years ago today that you do; absolutely none.
I believe in the power of attraction. I believe that the things I ask the universe for will eventually come to fruition. I do not pray but every night before I fall asleep I think of you and I think of her. I send thoughts to my biological mother that she find the strength to face the adversity she must in order to find her way to me. I hope as she ages, she finally casts off the regard for what others might think of her and then she might reach out to me. This would lead me to you. I know exactly what it's like to find out you have a son, soon to be born, in the womb. I have no comprehension of what it would be like to find that your first born turns 37 today by I hope to somehow inflict that adversity upon you one day.
I've never met you but I have missed you. I wish you could feel some fraction of the emotion I felt to write this. I wish I could bare witness to the shock and tears that mine and my son's existence might perpetuate upon you. I hope we can inconvenience you one day and I will continually wish for her to take that first step in order for that to occur.
This is your son wishing you well on my birthday in hopes that you and I somehow stumble upon a broken, difficult road that leads us to one another. I look forward to sharing in the strange type of healing endeavor that only a father and son can partake in after a lifetime of being separated.
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Valentine
For those of you that know me well, you know that I am not a fan of my birthday. If not, it's a longer story but Valentine's Day serves as the replacement and I would like to elaborate on that today.
36 years ago today, just before my first birthday, I was legally adopted by my parents after living with them and being a part of their family since I was 7 days old. I was officially a Currier. A birth date is little more than an anniversary of when you join a family. I didn't join my family on my birthday, I officially joined it on Valentine's Day.
They say you can't choose your family but that cliche does not apply through adoption; that's what we do. As a father now, I recognize the deep bond you develop with your child and how fascinating it is to look at your children and realize they represent half of you and your more dominant genes; they are literally your better half. My parents did not have that luxury. My parents were driven not by the obligation of blood but by the choice of love.
Dwell on that concept with me for just a moment.
I am someone else's child that was given up for whatever reason, as is my brother and was my sister who passed away over 11 years ago. My parents sought out to take in a child of another. They chose to take on the delicate task of explaining to a developing mind that they have other parents elsewhere in the world and why that's okay. Further down the road, they had to deal with the hormonally charged, teenage angst that would come from this fact and would then be unfairly be pointed at them. They consciously chose and signed up for all of this. That is a choice that I had no say in but am one I am eternally grateful for its outcome.
Valentine's Day is a Hallmark created, obligatory reason to express love to someone. As much as I hate that and blogged about it last year, many of us take part in it. Thankfully, I have a much deeper reason to appreciate February 14th outside of whether or not I happen to be in a relationship. Today is the day that I reflect on the fact that my life was a choice and that my heart goes out to the two beautiful souls that stood at the front of that line and took action, without hesitation.
To my mother and father; there are so many things that I have said and done in my younger adulthood years that I will regret for the rest of my life. One thing that I will never regret is the man I am today. I can stand with pride in that identity -with my flaws and strengths alike- because you stood by your choice. As we continually "choose" each other, I thank both of you for that for starting this relationship. I will always be thankful for my life with you; the outcome of your selfless choice.
Dwell on that concept with me for just a moment.
I am someone else's child that was given up for whatever reason, as is my brother and was my sister who passed away over 11 years ago. My parents sought out to take in a child of another. They chose to take on the delicate task of explaining to a developing mind that they have other parents elsewhere in the world and why that's okay. Further down the road, they had to deal with the hormonally charged, teenage angst that would come from this fact and would then be unfairly be pointed at them. They consciously chose and signed up for all of this. That is a choice that I had no say in but am one I am eternally grateful for its outcome.
Valentine's Day is a Hallmark created, obligatory reason to express love to someone. As much as I hate that and blogged about it last year, many of us take part in it. Thankfully, I have a much deeper reason to appreciate February 14th outside of whether or not I happen to be in a relationship. Today is the day that I reflect on the fact that my life was a choice and that my heart goes out to the two beautiful souls that stood at the front of that line and took action, without hesitation.
To my mother and father; there are so many things that I have said and done in my younger adulthood years that I will regret for the rest of my life. One thing that I will never regret is the man I am today. I can stand with pride in that identity -with my flaws and strengths alike- because you stood by your choice. As we continually "choose" each other, I thank both of you for that for starting this relationship. I will always be thankful for my life with you; the outcome of your selfless choice.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
White Flag
I surrender. I quit. I relinquish my sword. I give up.
As I approach the age of 37 next week, I am left to embrace the fact that I am a single, divorced father. I have nothing left to do but accept just that. Since my divorce three years ago, you may have seen me rise through Facebook posts, born witness to tagged pictures or may have heard stories of a significant other but alas, to this point, none of those situations have actually substantiated to anything that has worked. That is not to say that I am without fault, just stating the status.
I submit to the idea that right now, I am in no (nor may I have been in any) condition to take on a relationship with anyone, no matter how much I think it might work or might have worked. Years ago, a friend playfully dubbed me as a "serial monogamist" but I now find that term as funny as it is accurate.
I really thought I had it. I did. Not long ago, I looked back and recognized how throughout my life leading up to my marriage, I cannon-balled through relationship after relationship and finally recognized the collateral damage I left in my path. I waxed poetic on how harmful that was and moved away from doing so. Then, before I realized it, for the past two years, I had been doing the same. My intent was true but execution was coupled with ill regard for the others around me. That trespass is mine to own.
In the wake of solitude, many of us would arrive to different conclusions. According to our friends, we either have yet to meet "that" person or find that someone that is "just right" for us. All of this assumes there is someone out there designed for us. Horseshit.
What if there isn't? What if everyone was individually charged with the task of finding the person they are able to exclusively make the general concept of life work with them? What if we needed to condition ourselves to the idea that we not only individually have to be ready for the opportunity to meet the right person but we held ourselves accountable to making the right decisions with that person once we met them? Further along that point, what if some of us have just been unlucky? Perhaps we even make bad decisions in choosing who in the first place. Maybe we stuck around too long or gave too many chances to who we thought the right person was. Perhaps, perhaps,perhaps but who knows?
For now, I am done trying. For now, 2016 is mine and my son's. I will look forward to taking a larger step towards home ownership this year, working on my poetry and writing more than just when I feel inspired, focusing on the abundant amount of opportunities I have in my career right now and even addressing this developing "Dad bod" I have going on right now. If by the end of the summer I have six months worth of my bills in a savings account, a substantial amount of writing work completed, feel really good about the consistency of my performance in my career and can post the most douchebag photo of myself (I'm talking shirt off, bathroom selfie and complete with ear buds and tilted baseball cap) then I'll consider the first half of 2016 a success.
As I approach the age of 37 next week, I am left to embrace the fact that I am a single, divorced father. I have nothing left to do but accept just that. Since my divorce three years ago, you may have seen me rise through Facebook posts, born witness to tagged pictures or may have heard stories of a significant other but alas, to this point, none of those situations have actually substantiated to anything that has worked. That is not to say that I am without fault, just stating the status.
I submit to the idea that right now, I am in no (nor may I have been in any) condition to take on a relationship with anyone, no matter how much I think it might work or might have worked. Years ago, a friend playfully dubbed me as a "serial monogamist" but I now find that term as funny as it is accurate.
I really thought I had it. I did. Not long ago, I looked back and recognized how throughout my life leading up to my marriage, I cannon-balled through relationship after relationship and finally recognized the collateral damage I left in my path. I waxed poetic on how harmful that was and moved away from doing so. Then, before I realized it, for the past two years, I had been doing the same. My intent was true but execution was coupled with ill regard for the others around me. That trespass is mine to own.
In the wake of solitude, many of us would arrive to different conclusions. According to our friends, we either have yet to meet "that" person or find that someone that is "just right" for us. All of this assumes there is someone out there designed for us. Horseshit.
What if there isn't? What if everyone was individually charged with the task of finding the person they are able to exclusively make the general concept of life work with them? What if we needed to condition ourselves to the idea that we not only individually have to be ready for the opportunity to meet the right person but we held ourselves accountable to making the right decisions with that person once we met them? Further along that point, what if some of us have just been unlucky? Perhaps we even make bad decisions in choosing who in the first place. Maybe we stuck around too long or gave too many chances to who we thought the right person was. Perhaps, perhaps,perhaps but who knows?
For now, I am done trying. For now, 2016 is mine and my son's. I will look forward to taking a larger step towards home ownership this year, working on my poetry and writing more than just when I feel inspired, focusing on the abundant amount of opportunities I have in my career right now and even addressing this developing "Dad bod" I have going on right now. If by the end of the summer I have six months worth of my bills in a savings account, a substantial amount of writing work completed, feel really good about the consistency of my performance in my career and can post the most douchebag photo of myself (I'm talking shirt off, bathroom selfie and complete with ear buds and tilted baseball cap) then I'll consider the first half of 2016 a success.
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