Dead.
Just kidding… I hope.
This question is on every blog challenge list I have seen
and it is somewhat your typical cliché topic. I kind of didn’t want to do it
but I gave in, as you can tell.
Well right now I am 48 which means I will be 53 in 5
years. My dad died at the age of 52 so
getting to 53 is a goal, a sad and cryptic goal but a goal nonetheless. When my
dad was 48 he a 27 and a 29 year old sons. He was an established architect but was on
Disability due to his past heart attack and continuing heart issues. He was married and divorced 2 times and was
in a relationship with my late stepmom, Judy.
His heart issues and mental issues were due to his service
in the Army. The life he lived was hard. While in Vietnam he was captured and
tortured. He came back with a lot of problems. He was trained to be an
architect and worked for one of the biggest companies in Dallas at the time. I
remember being a kid and when it was his time to have me and my brother, we
spent it with him at his job. My brother
stayed at home a lot so I would be up there at my dad’s office a lot. This was the 70’s and life then was shocking
compared to today. They had a bar in the
office. They architects and staff would
drink all day, every day. Friday would
be the day the company stocked the bar. It was a legit high level bar. All
kinds of liquor and beer. It was an
alcoholics dream. They played softball on Sunday nights so on the weekends I was
with my day, I was the batboy. Or as
they called me, the fatboy. They thought
that was funny and even had a jersey made with that on it. (That is a whole other coming blog to address
how that messed me up).
After drinking all day they would go to happy hour. They all
went to a place called “The Roundtable” it was your typical bar with darts and
pooltables and a jukebox. I was there
every night my dad was. If not, I would be back at his apartment with no food
and just a TV. Once that place closed
they started going to a place called “The Cedar Pub”. Same deal.
The company he worked for eventually bought “The Centre Racquetball Club”
which had a full bar and dinner service.
I pretty much lived there in the summers when I was 8 to 11 years old.
That lifestyle eventually took its toll on my dad and put
him in the grave. Once again at 52.
I have not fared much better healthwise, but medicine is so
much more advanced that my medical issues are mostly behind me. Getting to 53
should be a breeze.
But where will I be? What will I have? That is the question.
Reality versus hope are 2 different things.
Neither reality nor hope are known when you are talking
about the future. I could die tonight
and leave both answered, right?
Here is what I would dream… to be in an amazing job and to
be in an amazing relationship. The job
will work itself out. I will always be
working as I am satisfied anywhere that allows me to be happy.
The relationship is the hard part. When you are a man and you want to be a
parent, you could legit father a child at 110 if you lived that long. For a
woman, there is a real timetable that exists if you care and focus on the
health an well being of the woman. There
are many different thoughts on that but the older a woman gets, the more and
more chances of a negative health experience does grow with age. I know many woman who have said that they
will never have a kid past 40, others cut it off at 35. So being 48 myself, my clock is pretty much
blinking 12 on this one. I mean I would need to marry a far younger woman to be
a father. I don’t want to just have a
baby momma, I want a wife who is a mother to our child. So the hopes of being a
parent is blinking 12 as it is now, so at 53 the clock will be unplugged and
tossed in the trash.
It should have been different. I blame myself for that. So many missed
opportunities.
So where will I be in 5 years? Working and probably with 134234 cats… or
dead. Or in Vegas at the Glitter Gulch
getting a dance from a 70 year old stripper… but probably enjoying then due to
both of us being AARP members…
No comments:
Post a Comment