As the holidays approach, I’ve been thinking more and more about how far I’ve come to become the man I am today. I had this need to put it out there, even if I’m the only one that will ever read it.
After a failed marriage, followed immediately by a failed 7+ year relationship, I found myself broke, with a repossessed car, hoping my parents would once more bail me out.
By their graciousness, they did and I was able to recover my car and I stayed with them for around 9 months while I got back on my feet.
Newly single, I moved into a dumpy little apartment just before my birthday in 2019. As I turned 45 years old, this was the first time I’d ever lived alone.
Shortly after moving in, I spent Christmas and New Year’s alone. I hit rock-bottom emotionally and that was further goaded on by my newest ex. I was sincerely considering ending it all.
Thankfully, Alan, as usual, stepped in and stopped me from making a bad decision. Soon after, I got Ash, and Alan and I got our semicolon tattoos.
Not long after I brought Ash home, I met Brandy. Things would never be the same.
Since I met her, I have stabilized financially, done much better emotionally (though I’m not 100% but I’m much closer) and I find that I am happier than I’ve ever been. As I mentioned in my post about 10/11, I had been on cloud nine lately, and even after the accident, sure, I had a slight dip in my emotional state, but I quickly rebounded.
As we close in on the end of 2023, I have reflected often about the difference between who I was four years ago and now. Back then, I could not in a million years ever imagine I’d be as happy as I am now. I couldn’t imagine being as successful in my career as I am now. I couldn’t imagine being as financially stable as I am now. The car that was repossessed at the beginning of this story is a couple months away from being paid off.
As I typed that, I realized how symbolic that fact really is. Around four years after having my car repossessed, it will be paid off (and early, too. Scheduled last payment was supposed to be June of 2024 but for the last six months, I’ve been making payments around $60 more than the minimum payment due. Eventually it got to the point where the amount due was less and less and now, after making my December payment, Bridgecrest is telling me my next payment isn’t due until February, skipping January. Of course, I will still make January’s payment, and when February’s payment comes due, I will make it too. Provided I’m able to keep up the current pace, I may be able to make my last payment in March, maybe April at the latest.)
(Keeping in mind that this post has been percolating for about a week now) I had a conversation with my dad last night. It seems every conversation I ever have with him, he’s bitching about something. The way he’s treated at the store, how long he had to wait at the doctor, how much money the nursing home is costing grandma, the shit crowd at the craft show they worked last weekend, it’s always a complaint. I recently interrupted one of his tirades with, “tell me something good that happened today.” The best he could come up with was “We spent 200.00 at Walfart.” Oof.
Anyway, yesterday he once again went off on his brothers and how little they seem to care about anything or anyone but themselves. This was specifically spurred by the fact that my uncle in New Mexico has not shown any interest in the fact that his mother is not much longer for this world.
I had to remind my dad, that’s unfortunate, but my uncle’s relationship with his mother has no impact on my dad’s relationship with her.
See, my parents hold on to this romanticized idea of “family”, that because people share blood, they are bound to each other. I abandoned that idea long ago. My sisters are both so self absorbed that they care for very little outside of their households. In fact, the only reason they reached out to me after the accident was because mom told them to. When I mentioned it to mom, that they had reached out, she declared hope that we “can get past our shit”, that there must be some sort of animosity between us.
There isn’t though. I hold no ill will toward any of them. I just don’t consider them family like I do with Craig, Sue, Hilary, Christy… Those people reach out to me regularly to check in on me, make sure I’m doing good. Even if it’s not directly with me, they’re asking Brandy about me.
I know that my parents’ daughters couldn’t care any less about me. They paid me the courtesy of reaching out to see how I was (again, at the direction of mom), and shockingly, Leah reached out once subsequently, but it’s been radio silence ever since.
Which is fine. I don’t expect any of them to reach out with any regularity.
And letting go of that expectation has made me immeasurably happier.
That’s what I want for them. I don’t want them to have any expectations of who does what. I want them to live their lives to their happiest. But they insist on maintaining relationships with people that don’t enrich their lives. Every time dad has an interaction with either of his brothers, he bitches about it. Every time they hang out with my dad’s dead brother’s ex-wife who divorced him 20-something years ago, they both bitch about it. They can’t stand hanging out with Eve and Nathan, but they continue to do so.
Ah, anyway, I do know this. I am happy with where I am in my life and with the relationships I have around me. I’m confident with who I am and what I do with my life.
And as of today, three weeks before the start of another fantastic year, I have never been happier.
Thanks for listening. 🙂
Phil