As I was sitting down thinking about this blog entry, I could not help but to write one those titles that I almost always reject. Why? Well, because it sounds like a cliche, like something you've seen before, and that very well may be true. However, the story is worth writing down.
It was one of those typical family get togethers, the kind that you've been on yourself countless of times. Without much effort you can imagine the conversations, the feeling in the room, the tensions that exist between attending members, and the sincere hope in the back of your mind that none of them boil to confrontations.
I'm sitting there sharing a beer with my stepdad as we both look towards the beach. Even though sunset is some clicks away, there's enough people, enough activity to distract anyone from any topic.
How cool is that? - my stepdad says to me, as he points out a young girl going down a wave.
I can tell she's still a beginner, the wave is not impressive, but you can tell if she keeps at it, she might become one of those competitors one sees in local magazines.
When I retire, I want to learn how to surf... I want to come to this beach and try that... - he continued.
WHEN YOU RETIRE? - I replied, with a hint of indignity.
What are you talking about? You are retired!! You've been retired for years!!
A little shocked from my unusual response and my zen destroying volume, he looked at me funny for a second.
You know what I mean... I still got important things to do, I babysit the girls, I don't have time - his voice sounding apologetic
Wait.. I'm sorry - I said calmly "I hope you don't think I'm calling you lazy or anything like that... It's not like that at all"
My rant continued...
I mean, I still don't know what happened... I was young yesterday, so were you. I had all the energy in the world, would work for 17 hours, party, and get up early in the morning to do it all over again, but I can't anymore..
We can't wait... I can't wait... - I realized at this point, I was not really talking about my stepdad, and that the tone of indignity I had, was mostly directed inward.
I never imagined being in my 40's, as you probably never imagined being in your 60's. I know that I'm going to sleep tomorrow, and next week I'll wake up and my 50's will be greeting me outside my bedroom. I know this now, I thought I had all the time in world, and I'm sure you did too, but we don't... YOU DON'T, I CERTAINLY DON'T!
All I'm trying to say is this... You want to learn to surf? Do it now... come here tomorrow, I would say today, but we've had some drinks, don't want you to drown.
There is no guaranteed tomorrow.. that is all I'm saying. Nobody is giving me a certificate that guarantees I'll be healthy or even around in ten years. If getting older has taught me anything at all is that nothing is guaranteed, not even if you do "everything right" as they say.
My stepdad got quiet for a second, and nodded in agreement soon after. "Maybe I'll come with the girls, Why not? - he added.
There you go... that makes sense - I replied without hesitating.
As you might imagine the evening continued normally. More drinks were had, more food was annihilated, and we went back home late as one days from all get togethers that involve drinks.
I'm laying on my bed thinking about these events, remembering this conversation and realizing that I'm terrible. I'm terrible not because of what I said, or the advice I may give someone when I'm feeling too honest, because most of the time (not always of course), my advice is not half bad, if I may say so myself.
I'm terrible because I can't seem to follow my advice at all... I need to yell at myself a little more often.
MenO