Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Dare you

Dare to wonder as you did when you were a child.
Dare to dream again as you did when you were younger.
Dare to live rather than survive.
I dare you. And me.

Pax,
N

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Fall

Fall is like late afternoon in the seasonal day. That is my least favorite part of the day, because all possibilities are rapidly becoming lost and although soon it will be early evening (when things are changing in my head for the better, sometimes) and then night, (and alright again), it isn't just yet. It is a time of remembrances for me and a time for wishing I'd got done at least a part of all I'd intended to do that day.

But, hey: at least the colors are pretty.

Thoughts?

Pax,
N.

Friday, September 11, 2009

9/11

Never forget.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Good Day

It started out as a pretty good day, for a Monday. The children were more or less happy and almost everybody got up on time. I drove the children to their respective destinations (daycare for the little one and day camp for the bigger one) and all was well with them.

I came home and ate a sensible breakfast (although Hardee's sausage biscuits were calling out to me, I managed to resist that siren song) of high fiber cereal and fruit and milk and a little coffee. I fed the cats and did my workout routine. I have one of those machines one can order from the television: not a big Bowflex or anything, but a smaller version which works the muscles using stretch resistance. I had a good little workout and was left shaking at the end of it. Felt good.

I came up to my office/music room and checked my email and surfed the web for a little while.

Then I decided to go for a bike ride. I packed up the bike on the rack on the back of my beat-to-hell-and-back-again Jeep and set off for the bike trail. Naturally I took my camera along, just in case. I had a pretty good ride: about 8 miles altogether. I managed to get some good photographs too, I think. I haven't checked yet. I would have ridden longer but I felt a little shaky (thought perhaps my blood sugar was getting a little low – damn diabetes anyway!), so I quit a little earlier than I might have otherwise. I like to ride about 13 – 15 miles when I'm in better shape. Packed up the bike and headed for home.

When I got home, I put away the bike and came upstairs to fix my lunch. I ate a nice lunch of a sandwich, Fritos (God's own junk food) and skim milk (I prefer skim: I was raised on it). I had a nice slice of my lovely wife's lemon pound cake for dessert and washed it down with the milk. During lunch, I watched an episode of “Flipper” and relaxed for a bit.

All was well up to this point and I had had a pretty good day so far.

Then, out of the blue and without warning, I got hit hard by a wave of depression. I may have mentioned before that among my other ailments (getting old SUCKS, but it still beats the alternative), I also suffer from chronic depression. Usually I am in control of it (rather than the other way around) and I handle it with a combination of good therapy and medication. Every once in a while, it hits pretty hard. Just now is one of those times. Sometimes when it happens, I just ride it out and know (pray) that it will pass. Today, I am dealing with it by writing about it. If I am able to do something, anything, it will usually pass more quickly it might otherwise, but there is no guarantee.

The thing about depression is that it really is a disease. People who have it often feel that they deserve to feel this way because they have done something bad or that they are just not good enough people to feel better or a multitude of other reasons why it is their fault. I know I felt that way for a very long time (still do, sometimes). That ain't so, folks. It is NOT our fault and we do NOT deserve to feel this way. We are no better or worse than anyone else. We have a disease which is often treatable. We may never be 'cured' of it, but we can manage it, with hard work, therapy and sometimes medication.

If you suffer from depression, get help: you are worth it.

There will be times when nothing will help. Those times are hard. Earnest Hemingway (who also had severe chronic depression) called those times the 'black-ass days' and I have found no better description.

Today, I might just be able to work though it. Thanks for listening.

Thoughts?

Pax,

Nelson

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Easter: Happy indeed.

Thank-you God: for your Son and for my sons.

Nothing much to add.

Pax,
Nelson

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Thinking again

You know, life really is not fair. I've been trying to get over that fact for most of my life, I think. I have often said it and believed it, but always in the back of my mind, hoped it wasn't true.

I'm telling you people, it's true.

I want to work again and support my family, but there is no work for me to do (none I'm qualified for anyway: if I was a nurse, I'd be in like Flynn).

This is a really hard time to be in need of a job.

Maybe I can invent something that everybody needs. Or sell some of my photographs. Or something.

God help us to help ourselves.

Pax,
Nelson

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Ehh

Got me a headache today. Gotta get some aspirin. Ya'll take care now, ya hear?

Pax,
Nelson

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Lost?

It's a halfway beautiful day. I might go out side.

When I was a little boy, I am pretty sure I had dreams of what I wanted to be when I grew up. I think I wanted to be a scientist for a while and maybe even an astronaut. Nothing too unusual for a child to dream. I really can't remember specifically what I wanted to be way back then. I don't remember a lot about being that boy, either. Except I was loved and adults, with whom I spent a lot of time ( I was sick a lot when I was small), thought I was special and that great things were in my future.

I lived most of my life with that thought in mind: I am special and great things are in my future.

Funny thing.

Turns out that I'm still waiting for that future to kick in. I'm special and there are great things in my future. I've lived what might well turn out to be half my life waiting for evidence of what makes me special and those promised great things of my future.

Meanwhile, I've lived pretty well. I had friends growing up and I had family and a relatively nurturing environment. I've been educated at a fairly good school. I'm even reasonably intelligent. I think I've had a lot of fun over the years. Certainly, I've worked at that. I have saved a life, more than once. I have worked and worked hard to be the best at whatever job I have been employed over the years.

I've made a life with a woman who loves me and has born me two fine sons. We have made a good home together and I love my family dearly. I am thankful to God and all those who went before me to have helped me become what I am today. I've never truly wanted for anything material, up to this point.

I've never really lacked for anything, except for a sense of purpose and self-validation.

I am a modern man.

That little boy with his long-lost dreams dreams never dreamed of what he would become.

What I am now.

I am 48 years old and have no direction and no job and no likely prospects. And I think this is mostly my fault. Am I now heading into a midlife crisis? Possibly. I'm certainly in a professional crisis.

Now what?

There must be something. There must be.

Something.

Maybe, somehow, I will be able to generate a self with purpose and meaning, so that my family will not lose everything because of choices I have made or failed to make. There is no one to help me now. No mother, no father, no ancestors: I must do it on my own. Because it turns out I'm really not all that special and no great things await me in my future. Unless I can make them happen.



Pax,
Nelson

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Today is another day

It's a beautiful day outside and I think I'm going to go out and enjoy it. I recommend you do the same.

Thoughts?

Pax,
Nelson

Monday, February 9, 2009

Morning

I have an almost overwhelming urge to get stinking drunk today and stay that way. So far, I haven't given in to it. But it's only gone just half past noon, so the day is, as they say, young.

It started off dark. I awoke to the unfamiliar sound of my wife's alarm clock going off. Unfamiliar because, usually, it sounds its wake-up alarm with the radio. So the current buzzing was unsettling. I made some appropriate, sleep be-fuzzled remark along the lines of 'what the hell?' and my lovely wife mumbled the power had gone off. And so it had. My CPAP machine was idle and there was no ambient light in the room beyond the pale gray of pre-dawn. I pulled the mask off and tried to go back to sleep.

The baby began to stir and then subsided. This was a good thing.

I managed to make it to the second irritating series of buzzes and then the baby awakened in earnest and voiced his displeasure at his current situation in no uncertain terms. He was HUNGRY.
I made a hasty toilet in the dark, hoping my aim was true and made my way downstairs in search of light and the makings of a bottle of formula. Both were located and put to proper use. Fortunately, our water is heated with gas, so when the electricity departs, we still have hot water.
Bottle and flashlight in hand I searched for, found and lit a candle, and went back up to retrieve my now wailing son.

Who didn't want the damn bottle anyway. Too hot, I guess. I had another one pre-made in the 'fridge for the night and it was still cold (God bless GE appliance makers) and that turned out to be more to his liking.

Baby fed and returned to his mother for eventual dressing, I went to awaken my first born to ready him for daycare. I was searching for his toy camping lantern with my flashlight when he informed me that he had it in the bed with him. I told him he could use it to get dressed as the power was out and he wanted my flashlight, instead. I told him to make do with the lantern and went in search of more candles to light our dark little world. I had just installed one in our bedroom, when my son appeared out of the darkness again demanding the flashlight. We fought that battle for a while until I realized it really wasn't worth the effort and gave it to him. Learn to pick your battles when you have a five year old, that's my motto.

Besides, I had found yet another candle.

I went back downstairs to make up the baby's bottles for the daycare folks by candle light. Finished up some other morning chores and went back upstairs to retrieve my youngest who had resumed his wailing. It seemed he needed Daddy and not Mommy just then.

Fine.

Back downstairs we go, for the second round of formula. This time, cold wouldn't do AT ALL and we had the warm bottle and a little snuggle. Which was kinda nice.

Eventually the whole family made its way into the living room and we managed to get the baby changed and dressed, the eldest squared away with cereal and milk and Mommy ready to go to work and me ready to take the children to daycare. We even called them (daycare) to be sure they had power and were open. Thankfully, they were.

L. went off to work and I managed to get the children safely delivered into the hands of the daycare folks (wonderful people).

I got back to my car and on a whim, called home to see if the answering machine would pick up, thereby signaling that the power had been restored. It had! I called my lovely wife at work to relay this news. She informed me in somber tones that my therapist of the past three years (who had recently contracted pancreatic cancer) had died on the last day of last month.

The air went from me.

I knew it was probably only a matter of time. No one I have known or ever heard of has beaten this particular type of cancer yet but still... I had prayed for his recovery only yesterday (and the day before and the day before that, et cetera), because I am a believer in the power of prayer. I'm not sure why I still am a believer, but I am. As it turns out, my prayers had already been answered and I didn't know it.

God does answer our prayers: unfortunately, sometimes the answer is NO.

I tend to forget that once in a while and it makes believing just that much harder, but I still believe.

Anyway, I will miss you DW. You have helped me in many ways and for that I thank you. Although it may not be appropriate for me to count you as or call you one, you were my friend as well as my therapist and I will miss you.

May God grant you safe journey and swift passage.


Pax,
Nelson

Saturday, January 31, 2009

A non-post

Well. Haven't been here in a while. Apologies to those who read this blog and those whose blogs I read. Much on my mind and much happening here at home. I will be back as soon as I get my stuff halfway straight.

I sure need a job. God bless President Obama and all of you!

As the song says, "Heaven help us all."

Pax,
Nelson

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Here we go!

God bless President Obama!