Disillusionments

All kids have illogical illusions picked up who-knows-where, but they shape their lives to greater or lesser degree. I am no different. Mine are beyond humorous-even hilarious, but were damaging never the less.

Somewhere, before eighth grade, I had read that a) Einstein had an IQ of 180, and b) one person with 180 could do more original work than four people of 170 IQ equipped with fully staffed labs. I have no idea how true this was, but I believed. I thought I would be the next Einstein. I did not tell anyone, of course, not wanting to be ridiculed.

Then, in eighth grade, an intern all smiles, tail wagging, imported good tidings of great joy, telling me what my IQ was. Let's just say, it was far short of even 170, and I did not have even one lab, staffed or otherwise. Though he thought he was doing great service, he crushed my future. Let's say, I have not recovered to this day. I mean, how does one gracefully give up being the next Einstein? I did so silently, but my insides were/are anything but graceful.

My second, great disillusionment tormented me starting tenth grade. I had decided that I would push all the boundaries and would always make the dean's list. With the first report card, I was dashed. I indeed scored high on everything but---physical education was a C! Turned out the Ph.D. coach who graded me didn't even know who I was, and graded me accordingly. Geez, I was a jock, and thought phys ed a "gimme." Later, when the head coach found out what had happened, it was too late to change it.

I was both too private a person to say anything to anyone and too immature to know how to handle it. The disillusionment was that "adults weren't." For some reason, long lost, I thought adults were these sage-like beings, wise beyond understanding. Obviously not!

Although it was best I experience this disillusionment early, I did not further conclude that becoming a sage being would still be a good goal for me, or analyze how to become so, or even how those who weren't weren't. I am just now getting around to it.

Today, of course, I realize that I can aspire to higher levels than society pushes one toward, and that society pushes against exceeding the level that is its norm. Then, I did not, and though I retained the outer veneer of having a high IQ and high self-esteem, inwardly I was at best traumatized for years.

These two illusions and the inevitable disappointments were to affect my future and do so even to this day. I shutter at their cost, but, as Tina would say, "Whose fault is that?" I know all too well; I don't project as well as I used to.

Last Responsibilities

I am now involved in my last responsibilities. I can, of course, assume some additional ones before departing the planet, but don't intend to under expected circumstances. My brothers and I are now taking care of our mother, who can stay in her apartment rather than having to be in a nursing home. When she returned from the hospital in Summer 2007, it was not expected she would continue for more than a couple of months or so. She is, thankfully, still with us.

Initially four of us were regularly involved in her care, but two have families of their own, so had to decreased their involvement time. John and I retired to continue her care, and I am thankful we were able to do so. John lives with her during the week; I take weekends. John has a girl friend; I have no life. I have no objections to getting one; it just doesn't seem to be working that way. Working back shifts for a number of years, I'm used to it, unfortunately.

When mom-care was mentioned as my "last responsibility," Tina quietly, calmly chewed my ... in a manner any top sergeant would proud to have mastered. She really got to where I lived, or as Tina put it, gave me some "brutally honest food for thought..." Well done, Tinar. Basically, Tina pointed out that my communications and connections with my children and grandchildren could use some improvement, to put it nicely.

I do realize that there is a spectrum of items that I could constructively pass on, and I could use my strength in writing to do so. I have a large number of notebooks of pen-and-ink variety that I alerted a couple of the kids to, but better to pass this information on now, when intentional communication forces improved organization and clarity---not to mention they could ask questions without holding a séance.

The first venture into this arena was the essay entitled: Being on the Right Side. Although no one had immediate use for it, a couple of friends did. One, Skip, paid me an ultimate compliment when he told me, "You nailed it." Wonderful praise, and from Skip, even better. Hopefully, my children will eventually find the technique therein of great value.

The "lessons" intended herein are the second venture into my expanded last responsibilities. Hopefully, these too will be found useful, even if only to illustrate how not to do things and worth the discomfort I feel at times in uncovering myself. There are advantages to reaching an age of not giving a rip about others' opinions. Perhaps that comes from scar tissue. I read somewhere that God measures one's success in life by one's scar tissue. Hopefully, it is not discounted by how much one causes, but no doubt it is and justly so.

So, thanks, Tina. Know you have enriched my life even more, and hopefully the following will in part return the favor.

I warned that it would start seriously, so I shall attempt to make the next post lighter. Shouldn't be difficult since it is about two of my great disappointments in life.

Unfinished Assignment

One of my high-school English teachers took time one day to talk about writing one's philosophy of life. It became an intriguing thought, and an uncompleted assignment I still wish to complete. She stated that we could probably not write it before age thirty, but certainly not before twenty. For a teenager, that seemed impractically long. Amazing how perspectives change as one ages. Also, amazing a teacher proposed such a startling project. It has become my most lasting memory of high school and significant in my life.

Now that I've proven that one can live life without at least a conscious philosophy, and that one needs to do more than just collect books toward that end, it is perhaps time to actually formulate it. I've arrived at a time in life when procrastination seems not a good idea. I have no immediate plans of exit, understand; just know I do not wish to leave this unfinished.

This entry, then, becomes an another start on completing this assignment. It will no doubt start too seriously, but deteriorate over time. Be patient. I have years of practice stumbling around in the dark.