
Originally Posted by
Buzzworthy
My child is an adult. I’m no longer needed.
Skiing isn’t fun anymore. Mountain biking isn’t fun anymore. Life hasn’t been fun for a long time. Caring has become difficult. Fuck I don’t even enjoy beer much anymore. I just don’t give a shit anymore and it’s scary.
This is silly. My dad was a huge dick, died a few years ago when I was already an adult for decades, and I still miss the shit out of him. Broke my fucking heart finding his suicide notes to my brother and I while I was cleaning out his house after he died, even though he did not actually die by his own hand, he seemed to have little will to live left and I think might have neglected to seek medical attention towards the end. At the very least he wrote those letters a couple years before. My brother was being a dick trying to pressure and even manipulate me and fuck with me to get me to just throw all my dads stuff out so we could sell his house faster when i found them, and a whole bunch of other shit happened around that time and it was one of the very worse couple months of my life.
My dad had a lot to feel grateful about, and enjoy in life, as I am sure you do. He was old though, 77, but he was a pilot and was still flying just about a week before his death. He lived in a beautiful life, and had people who cared about him, although he didn't feel as close to them as he would have liked, and no longer had the plane that made him the happiest to fly, the plane that was really the love of his life, he still had a less nice plane and could fly and do other things.
I'm sure you have stuff going for you in life, and I'm sure you have people that would prefer you not to die. You have no idea what you mean to people around you. Like I said my dad was a dick, but he also had redeeming qualities. We spent many hours flying planes together, and he was pretty much a perfect father while he was teaching me to fly. He was less good at controlling his emotions at other times, but something about planes made him both feel more need to control and discipline himself, and also, made him happier and more at peace with the world. He had the good fortune and good taste to be able to purchase a two seat Mk IX Supermarine Spitfire back in the eighties, and operated it for over thirty years if I remember correctly. I learned how to fly in it and a piper cub. But then the Spitfire got damaged at an airshow, an on the ground collision with another airplane, and my dad didn't have the money to fix it and had to sell it as a project. This loss, and the loss of his wife to divorce years earlier, really broke his heart. Bla bla bla bla leroys walls of words, but my point is, the loss of that plane broke my heart too. I'll never fly another spitfire. I have like, a half a dozen landings in it that I did 100% myself and there will never be any more. And now, years later, I can finally financially swing getting a pilots license but flying doesn't feel as easy. My stomach is very much unused to several hundred foot changes in elevation in a matter of seconds. It seems more stressful. And my dad will never be there to teach me again. Turns out, not only are the memories of us flying something I cherish, but he was actually better at teaching me to fly than any instructor I've flown with since and created a better atmosphere to learn. I felt safer in his airplane than I ever have in another, because I trusted him as an aircraft owner, and knew and trusted his mechanic.
I could ramble on some more, but the thing is, time feels so cruel doesn't it? Time feels like it takes things from us? You're no longer needed by your kid supposedly, we have things, opportunities, experiences, moments we cherish, and then they're gone. But this can also be such a fixation, the seeing it as in the past, instead of just thinking fuck that happened how cool is that. It wasn't just that my dad was heartbroken by the loss of that plane, but also he just struggled with depression, and as it turns out, its hard to feel like oh whoa is me how hard and cruel is my life when you get to fly a WWII fighter plane, and teach your son to fly it with you as well, but after losing that, he struggled to cope with existence.
I think though, we get wrapped up in our own heads, and can forget what we mean to those around us and what they need us for. I also think, as cheesy as it sounds, the choice to be grateful for what you have and especially, have had and lost can be very powerful. Like, you don't have to stop feeling cynical or depressed or hopeless etc, but just stop and think of something cool from your life and be like fuck yea that shit happened. If you do that, it can really start to rewire your brain, preventing the negative feelings like hopelessness and meaninglessness, and it seems to make the weight of the cruelty of time less heavy, and our perception of time as linear and irreversible as less imprisoning.
Also, maybe old doors that were open have now closed, but there have to be some new doors opening somewhere. Most halfway decent authors don't write anything worth reading till they're at least sort of old and somewhat crusty and bitter. There has to be something left to learn or do or fuck.
__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ ________________
"We don't need predator control, we need whiner control. Anyone who complains that "the gummint oughta do sumpin" about the wolves and coyotes should be darted, caged, and released in a more suitable habitat for them, like the middle of Manhattan." - Spats
"I'm constantly doing things I can't do. Thats how I get to do them." - Pablo Picasso
Cisco and his wife are fragile idiots who breed morons.
Bookmarks