Whoa Nellie!
Current mood: annoyed
Whoa, Nellie!
"And I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for those meddling kids!"
An open letter to my brother Michael.
You almost did get away with it, Michael. Almost.
For years now, our family's dirtiest little secret stayed under wraps. Mostly through the efforts of our sister, JoJo. What she did out of love, out of fear and out of concern for your welfare was huge. Sadly, I don't think you ever truly understood why she did it, nor recognized the full scope of what she gave up for you. Her life would have been radically different if not for you. Simply put, Dad would have killed you for what you did to his only daughter. She might as well have saved herself the effort. You've been dead to me for 30 years now anyway.
There is no excuse for rape, Michael. And no mixing of phrases or excuses is going to change the fact that you sexually abused our sister numerous times over a span of several years. She was ten years old when it started…that made you 16 years old. There any number of words that come to mind that could come into play here…pedophile, monster and my personal favorite: Schmuck. As JoJo outlined in her first chapter of "My Story to Tell", you basically pimped her out to one of your friends. You sacrificed our sister's virginity to make a friend happy, instead of standing up for someone you should have been protecting from such an atrocity. Then you started "dipping into the well" shortly after that yourself. Was it convenience? Was it really just a way to strike back at our father in one of the few ways you knew it would hurt him most? Was it a suicide move? He would have ended your life, and that would have torn what remained of this family apart. Your excuse that "all brothers and sisters experiment with sex" is flawed. The percentage of children experimenting is still relatively small and there is usually an element of mutual consent with such experimentation. Do you think Chris and Jena will chalk up it up to youthful indiscretion when James starts bangin' Lorelei to get back at them? (Come to think of it, Jena just might, considering how staunchly she defends your sexual misconduct...)
There is a big difference in what you and your friend did to JoJo. There was no consent on her part. It wasn't sex, it was a powerplay. That's what made it rape. That doesn't justify it or make it right. The cycle of abuse continues in a fashion through your particular blood line. Dan & Nita's kids have abused one another horribly over the years under the pretense that it was always okay because they "love" one another. That crew has always had a fucked up idea of love and respect, but I digress...Although their mutual abuse was not necessarily of a sexual nature, emotional abuse is just as debilitating.
I know that you didn't have it easy with Dad. You pointed this out to me a number of times. Dad was stricter, Dad was unreasonable, and Dad was mean to you. I was the baby of the family, I was spoiled…yada, yada, yada…what Dad was with me was busy. He was always working at the Post Office. When he had down time, he bowled and played golf. He never saw a single performance during the years that I sang and was on stage. JoJo filled in for Dad & Mom when they couldn't/wouldn't be there for me. I understood that Dad needed his personal time because of the long hours that he worked. It still hurt me that my father would not sacrifice some of his own pleasure time to see me perform. I'll never know if Dad was proud of me. However, I knew that Dad loved me. You know as well as I that Dad didn't say it out loud. He was not demonstrative in that way. (And a good part of the reason that I tell my kids almost daily how proud of them I am and that I love them) I learned some important things to do with my family because of my experiences with Dad. All you seem to have learned was how to hurt the ones you love. And yes, I realize that charge can be leveled at me these days as well…the important phrase involved is "the ones you love". I have no love for the DaNita consortium anymore. None of them. What I have these days for them is indifference or perhaps morbid curiosity. That's about it.
This family is in shambles. I take a huge portion of the credit for that at this time because of my activities and commentary dealing with Nita and her girls. I'm at an age where I no longer feel the need to "play nice" in order to maintain some false sense of unity amongst family members. The resentment has been bubbling away for three decades now, and I saw the potential for another three decades of more of the same with your son Dan and his family. I will not allow it.
There was talk a few years ago as to who the Patriarch of the Gervasio Clan was. Several of your kids made the claim that you were, by virtue of your age and position as the eldest son. I challenged the notion, pointing out that Patriarch is much more than a title, and bears much responsibility to the family. Who gets the call when a problem arises? Who visits when it isn't a holiday or when presents are not in the offering? Who did Lucy look to? Who gets the job done? It was never you, Michael. You were always Prince Charles; but it's Prince William that will take the throne.
The solution to the current state of affairs in this family is really pretty simple, Michael.
Accept responsibility for your actions against JoJo. Pick up the phone and call her and tell her that you admit that what you did to her all those years ago was heinous. Admit that there are no excuses in the world which would justify what you allowed your friend to do to her and what you yourself did. Admit your role in devastating her life. You told Mom once that it wasn't your fault that she got fat.
Yes, Michael. It is your fault. And so much more…
Give the woman an apology. She's already forgiven you. And don't let the fact that she has already forgiven you get in the way of what you know you should have done all those years ago. I haven't forgiven you. I really don't care that it is not my place to grant forgiveness. It's high time you were held accountable for your actions. I was for mine. You will survive disclosure.
(Side note: The Supreme Court system is well aware of your activities in the past and then some…All kinds of questions get asked when you are in processing. They wanted to know why you were never charged. I told them what JoJo did to save the family. I told them Dad would have killed you. Thank your lucky stars that Arizona has a statute of limitations for what you did. Otherwise, JoJo could still press charges and I would have encouraged her to do so.)
Update 08/30/10...turns out that Arizona DOES NOT have a statute of limitations for sexual abuse and battery of a minor. Jo could indeed file charges against Michael for the rape and abuses. I don't think she will, however. Michael's health these days is precarious at best. As my daughter put it recently, he has the potential of attacking anyone as your standard potted plant. I thought that was pretty accurate. Still doesn't get him off the hook, however. He's still a child molester and rapist. And worst of all, he acknowledges what he did and refuses to atone or apologize. Some people...
Let's be honest about your health. You're living on borrowed time. That brain tumor should have taken you, but the fates decreed you stick around a bit longer. I personally think you have unfinished business. And I'm pretty sure that unfinished business is JoJo. She's at peace with what you did. I don't think you are. Not in your heart of hearts. I think you still have a conscience buried somewhere deep down. I think you need to make your own peace with JoJo.
Do I expect you to ever offer JoJo an admission of guilt and perhaps a sincere apology? Not bloody likely. Why should you experience such a drastic paradigm shift in regards to your history with JoJo after all these years? I imagine that has been one of the main reasons that you and the majority of your progeny have refused to acknowledge what you did...it was so long ago, why should it matter?
Because it matters to me. JoJo reconciled herself to the fact that you will never take responsibility for your actions. I'm not willing to let you off the hook quite that easily. What you did was wrong. Admit it to her, and then maybe you might be able to finally forgive yourself. I'm no saint, Michael. But one of the main things that separate us is that I did take responsibility for my actions. I will pay the price for the rest of my life for what I did. I can live with that.
I've always wondered...how do you live with what you did? How do you face yourself every day knowing that you destroyed the innocence of a child. That you let down someone who believed in you, that loved you, that trusted you. Ever think that's the secret to your longevity? That you won't be allowed to silently slip away until you clean up after yourself? One can only hope...
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
GROW UP and be a really man.
Current mood: contemplative
Grow Up.
You'd be surprised how many times I have heard that phrase. Or maybe not, especially if you have spent any time around me at all in my 51 years. I'm not quite a candidate for the Peter Pan Club of little boys who refuse to "grow up". My wife likes to refer to me as "child-like" instead of "childish". I suspect the fact that I have collected comic books and toy trains since I was 4 years old has something to do with it. But mostly, these days, my behavior can be attributed to something else entirely.
I had a wonderful childhood. My parents were loving and caring. And although Dad was not one to say it out loud, it was always apparent that he loved me. My Big sister was also my bestest friend in the whole world. My brother...was absent most of the time. I grew up with him being a stranger for the most part. So my childhood came to a rather abrupt end when I turned 16 and I was told that my father was going to die of cancer. Hell of a birthday present. I did a lot of "growing up" in the next year as I watched my Dad deteriorate and die in the span of one year. Mom apologized to me shortly after Dad's death for losing the end of my childhood so soon and having to "grow up" so fast. Now granted, 17 isn't exactly a kid anymore, but I had figured that I would have all my teens and most of my twenties to be reckless and more concerned with having a good time than hunting down a job and becoming "responsible". Even though my brother was now part of the picture again, Dad's death kind of brought him back into the fold, I was told that I was now "the man of the family". It was cool. I loved my mom and sister and tried to rise to the occasion. I wasn't sure exactly what "the man of the family" was supposed to do, but I was willing to give it the old college try!
When I was 18 I lost my virginity. (yeah, I know, TMI...bear with me) Of course I ran to tell my favorite confidant at the time, my big sister. She was concerned or course. Insert all the lectures about unprotected sex and their consequences here... but she also seemed really down about something. During our conversations I asked when her first time was. I had no idea what was about to be said. Let's just say that I not only had to "grow up" a bit more that day, but I pretty much have not had much use for my big brother since.
When I was 19, I made one of the biggest mistakes of my lifetime. I joined the U S Postal Service instead of the Santa Fe Railroad. I had both jobs offered to me at the same time, and I zigged when I should have zagged. My upbringing suggested that the Post Office was a job for a lifetime, financially secure. One that I could eventually marry and support a family with. (I always knew that I wanted to be a Dad!) The railroad meant lots of travel away from home, even relocating away from my family. So I did the "grown-up" thing and worked for the Post Office. Goodbye dreams of being a railroad engineer, goodbye dreams of being a comicbook artist. In my mind, those were the wishes of a child and it was time to "grow up".
So the years passed. I married well. We had three terrific kids. We bought a house in a declining neighborhood. We became involved with some of the most dysfunctional families in Mesa AZ you can imagine. We went through two burglaries. Our house was burned down. (arson) My health started to decline. Things started to sour at the PO. And through it all, I was a "grown-up". I coped the best I could, I made a lot of lemonade. I reasoned and explained away a lot of stuff. And in the end, I learned a very valuable lesson.
Grown Ups get to grab their ankles and take it up the backside.
No one is there with a gold medal or a pat on the head to tell you what a good doobie you were. You have to hope those all those Sunday school promises of getting your reward in Heaven pan out. Frankly, I'm a skeptic.
So I did the "grow up" thing for a large part of my adulthood. I learned to become a "really man" as one my charming and slightly grammatically challenged nieces pointed out. When I hit 50 I fell back on one of my favorite sayings...
It's NEVER too late to have a happy childhood.
I always wanted to be one of those cranky, yet somehow charmingly eccentric old people when I become a senior. As my wife pointed out, I'm a cranky, somehow charmingly eccentric fifty-something now, so it shouldn't be much of a stretch for me. Point is people, I did the grown up thing. I know how to be a grown up. And I know when it is to your advantage to backslide and indulge yourself time and again. If it is ever within my power, I will never be taken advantage of or abused by family, friends, or neighbors ever again. Not without a reckoning. And I'm not talking revenge here...that would be rather petty...even for ME! Besides, living well is the best revenge. And bless their hearts, my wife and kids, in the face of all the adversity we have faced, have indeed, lived very well. We have each other. And we always will. That's the best of all worlds.
Current mood: contemplative
Grow Up.
You'd be surprised how many times I have heard that phrase. Or maybe not, especially if you have spent any time around me at all in my 51 years. I'm not quite a candidate for the Peter Pan Club of little boys who refuse to "grow up". My wife likes to refer to me as "child-like" instead of "childish". I suspect the fact that I have collected comic books and toy trains since I was 4 years old has something to do with it. But mostly, these days, my behavior can be attributed to something else entirely.
I had a wonderful childhood. My parents were loving and caring. And although Dad was not one to say it out loud, it was always apparent that he loved me. My Big sister was also my bestest friend in the whole world. My brother...was absent most of the time. I grew up with him being a stranger for the most part. So my childhood came to a rather abrupt end when I turned 16 and I was told that my father was going to die of cancer. Hell of a birthday present. I did a lot of "growing up" in the next year as I watched my Dad deteriorate and die in the span of one year. Mom apologized to me shortly after Dad's death for losing the end of my childhood so soon and having to "grow up" so fast. Now granted, 17 isn't exactly a kid anymore, but I had figured that I would have all my teens and most of my twenties to be reckless and more concerned with having a good time than hunting down a job and becoming "responsible". Even though my brother was now part of the picture again, Dad's death kind of brought him back into the fold, I was told that I was now "the man of the family". It was cool. I loved my mom and sister and tried to rise to the occasion. I wasn't sure exactly what "the man of the family" was supposed to do, but I was willing to give it the old college try!
When I was 18 I lost my virginity. (yeah, I know, TMI...bear with me) Of course I ran to tell my favorite confidant at the time, my big sister. She was concerned or course. Insert all the lectures about unprotected sex and their consequences here... but she also seemed really down about something. During our conversations I asked when her first time was. I had no idea what was about to be said. Let's just say that I not only had to "grow up" a bit more that day, but I pretty much have not had much use for my big brother since.
When I was 19, I made one of the biggest mistakes of my lifetime. I joined the U S Postal Service instead of the Santa Fe Railroad. I had both jobs offered to me at the same time, and I zigged when I should have zagged. My upbringing suggested that the Post Office was a job for a lifetime, financially secure. One that I could eventually marry and support a family with. (I always knew that I wanted to be a Dad!) The railroad meant lots of travel away from home, even relocating away from my family. So I did the "grown-up" thing and worked for the Post Office. Goodbye dreams of being a railroad engineer, goodbye dreams of being a comicbook artist. In my mind, those were the wishes of a child and it was time to "grow up".
So the years passed. I married well. We had three terrific kids. We bought a house in a declining neighborhood. We became involved with some of the most dysfunctional families in Mesa AZ you can imagine. We went through two burglaries. Our house was burned down. (arson) My health started to decline. Things started to sour at the PO. And through it all, I was a "grown-up". I coped the best I could, I made a lot of lemonade. I reasoned and explained away a lot of stuff. And in the end, I learned a very valuable lesson.
Grown Ups get to grab their ankles and take it up the backside.
No one is there with a gold medal or a pat on the head to tell you what a good doobie you were. You have to hope those all those Sunday school promises of getting your reward in Heaven pan out. Frankly, I'm a skeptic.
So I did the "grow up" thing for a large part of my adulthood. I learned to become a "really man" as one my charming and slightly grammatically challenged nieces pointed out. When I hit 50 I fell back on one of my favorite sayings...
It's NEVER too late to have a happy childhood.
I always wanted to be one of those cranky, yet somehow charmingly eccentric old people when I become a senior. As my wife pointed out, I'm a cranky, somehow charmingly eccentric fifty-something now, so it shouldn't be much of a stretch for me. Point is people, I did the grown up thing. I know how to be a grown up. And I know when it is to your advantage to backslide and indulge yourself time and again. If it is ever within my power, I will never be taken advantage of or abused by family, friends, or neighbors ever again. Not without a reckoning. And I'm not talking revenge here...that would be rather petty...even for ME! Besides, living well is the best revenge. And bless their hearts, my wife and kids, in the face of all the adversity we have faced, have indeed, lived very well. We have each other. And we always will. That's the best of all worlds.
I don't know Karate, but I do know Ca-razy, and I will use it.
Current mood: crazy
Psychotic. Crazy Ass. Fruit Loops. Fat Boy. One sandwich short a picnic. Not all of his dogs are barking. Fatso. Overly Obese. Chunko. Pick one.
I've been a fat kid most of my life. So being called names is nothing new to me. Over the years I have learned to embrace several of them. Self deprecating humor has always been in my arsenal. And as my sister opined in a correspondense long ago, I am gifted with an acid tongue. She warned that I am probably not one to get involved with in a war with words.
How true.
People that know me well are very well aware of this. Those of you who do not know me so well... let's just say you've been a great source of amusement to me. Yes, Virginia, I can be a "heartless bastard of a felon". I've rarely professed to be anything else where some people are concerned. On the other hand, I can be a real pussycat or teddybear. An old friend of mine during my post office days put it this way...
"Tony is the best friend you could ever have. But if you ever cross him, he will flay you alive."
In my youth, I was scarred by insensitive words and insults. I learned early on that you can do more lasting damage with a well turned phrase than a closed fist. Bruises heal. My kind of damage can go deep into someone's psyche. You might forgive some of the things I've said to you...but you'll never forget them. Even if you profess that I didn't scrape a nerve. We both know better.
And so I've been labeled as the Psychotic Father, the Malicious Crazy Uncle...He's fucking nuts! Y'know, I don't have a problem with that.
Life changes over the past 10 years have helped to forge me into the man that I am today. Literally forged in fire, you might say. (Another reference to life on Argon St...coming soon to a blog near you)
Here's the bottom line folks. I never was a fan of taking the high road. There are no rewards waiting for me in Heaven. And for all those years that I did take the high road, people were more than happy to take advantage.
Ca-razy? Crazy like a fox.
Current mood: crazy
Psychotic. Crazy Ass. Fruit Loops. Fat Boy. One sandwich short a picnic. Not all of his dogs are barking. Fatso. Overly Obese. Chunko. Pick one.
I've been a fat kid most of my life. So being called names is nothing new to me. Over the years I have learned to embrace several of them. Self deprecating humor has always been in my arsenal. And as my sister opined in a correspondense long ago, I am gifted with an acid tongue. She warned that I am probably not one to get involved with in a war with words.
How true.
People that know me well are very well aware of this. Those of you who do not know me so well... let's just say you've been a great source of amusement to me. Yes, Virginia, I can be a "heartless bastard of a felon". I've rarely professed to be anything else where some people are concerned. On the other hand, I can be a real pussycat or teddybear. An old friend of mine during my post office days put it this way...
"Tony is the best friend you could ever have. But if you ever cross him, he will flay you alive."
In my youth, I was scarred by insensitive words and insults. I learned early on that you can do more lasting damage with a well turned phrase than a closed fist. Bruises heal. My kind of damage can go deep into someone's psyche. You might forgive some of the things I've said to you...but you'll never forget them. Even if you profess that I didn't scrape a nerve. We both know better.
And so I've been labeled as the Psychotic Father, the Malicious Crazy Uncle...He's fucking nuts! Y'know, I don't have a problem with that.
Life changes over the past 10 years have helped to forge me into the man that I am today. Literally forged in fire, you might say. (Another reference to life on Argon St...coming soon to a blog near you)
Here's the bottom line folks. I never was a fan of taking the high road. There are no rewards waiting for me in Heaven. And for all those years that I did take the high road, people were more than happy to take advantage.
Ca-razy? Crazy like a fox.
Dirty Laundry
Current mood: amused
Some people have wondered why Lori puts everything going on in her life in her blogs.
The Artist creates. The writer writes. It is how a creative person deals with most if not all aspects of life. And when adversity hits, it helps to express those feelings in the written word. It tells you who your friends really are, and who you can count on.
Besides, No One in the Gervasio clan can stay silent for long. For the most part, we just don't know when to shut up! :)
Current mood: amused
Some people have wondered why Lori puts everything going on in her life in her blogs.
The Artist creates. The writer writes. It is how a creative person deals with most if not all aspects of life. And when adversity hits, it helps to express those feelings in the written word. It tells you who your friends really are, and who you can count on.
Besides, No One in the Gervasio clan can stay silent for long. For the most part, we just don't know when to shut up! :)
Are you Unhappy with your Life?
Are you Unhappy with your Life?
Current mood: contemplative
I keep getting reminded by individuals who used to be counted as family members that I am unhappy in my life. (personally I think it's just their way of processing things I've said that they can't unhear that strike too close to home, but I digress...) So I got to thinking about an old adage Grandpa Daniels used to say...
So in this little exercise in cathartic self therapy I'm going to explore whether or not I'm happy in my life or not.
It's been a real roller coaster of a ride for the past 10 years of my life. Exciting, challenging, a little bit scary and heart breaking all at once. I won't lie to you, there have been many times I would like to have been in someone else skin other than my own.
I got to play with Depression a lot. Have for the past decade. I've been on meds for it, and although they helped...there were days...
I stopped believing in a god, mostly because of the depth of depression I was reaching on a regular basis. I stopped praying, because I prayed for six months straight when I went to sleep every night, not to wake up. And every morning, I awoke.
They say that god never gives you more than you can handle. In my case, he severely miscalculated... If god was listening, he was saying 'no'.
Suicide has been considered on several occasions. I've done my research, I've found ways that are painless. ( I hate pain ) But the bottom line is that I cannot, will not leave my wife and kids in such a lurch. I lost my father when I was 17 years old. I had to grow up without a father's guidance. I won't do that to my kids. Suicide negates the insurance payoff. (or so I thought at the time... turns out this wasn't the case and my wife just kept the info from me to help keep me around longer) Besides, several family members would be livid with me. Several others would throw a party you wouldn't believe to celebrate that I was finally gone. ( I suggested "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" be played although I hear through the family grapevine that it's being reserved for Nita when she finally kicks the bucket.)
So am I unhappy with my life? I certainly could be, and probably should be.
But I have the love of a good woman, and three children that I am very proud of. The four of them make my world a terrific place to be. I have extended family that I adore: Jojo, Jim & Gerri, Nikki, Bobbie & Sam, Gary and Sue, Corky & Susan... the list goes on. And two basset hounds that think I walk on water. Although I suspect it's because I feed them. I once heard that "A dog's love in unconditional".
Yeah, as long as you keep putting the Alpo in their dog dish. :)
I blogged not too long ago about what "I wish". I covered a lot of regrets in my life, things I wish I had done differently. Things I wished I had not done at all. For those of you in the know... they had it coming.
I have also been told on many an occasion that I like to wallow. That I like to brood. Sounds so much classier than mope. While I do enjoy the occasional pity party, like the commercial says...depression hurts. Physically. And I do not like to hurt physically. So while it is true that I tend to fret too much for my own good, being enveloped into that black cloud is not fun. And it is very hard to "snap out of it". So while I appreciate comments to cheer up. It's easier said than done. That's why I finally sought medical help for the depression. It was stronger than I was, and I had to finally admit it.
So again, am I happy with my life?
I find that I still find joy in a summer thunderstorm. I look forward to new comicbooks every Wednesday. Every Christmas I get excited about setting up toy trains under the tree. I love scatching behind the ears of my basset hounds and hearing the contented sigh they make.
But am I happy with my life?
I wake up in the morning and look forward to getting out of bed and making my wife breakfast and packing her lunch for work. Knowing that she is heading off to a job that she adores, doing what she has wanted to do for over 30 years. Finally.
My daughter is grown and touring the USA with her boyfriend and his band. Traveling the country and seeing the sights. Living her dream instead of waiting for it to happen. Soon she will marry the man she loves, and she knows true passion in her life.
I look forward to another day with my boys, helping them with their schooling and making sure they get off to work in time. It's not the careers they are waiting for yet...it's customer service. But I know that they will achieve their dreams with a little help and support from their mother and me.
I awake knowing that I get to care for my family, and no longer have to drag myself to a job that I hate, working for a company that I do not respect and wasting 9 hours out of my day that I would rather spend at home with my kids.
And still I wonder if I am happy with my life.
Judging from the silly grin I usually have on my face, I would have to say that I am.
Hee Haw.
Current mood: contemplative
I keep getting reminded by individuals who used to be counted as family members that I am unhappy in my life. (personally I think it's just their way of processing things I've said that they can't unhear that strike too close to home, but I digress...) So I got to thinking about an old adage Grandpa Daniels used to say...
If one person says you're a jackass, that's simply their opinion.
If two people say you're a jackass, that's merely a coincidence.
If three people say you're a jackass, it's time to get yourself fitted for a saddle.
So in this little exercise in cathartic self therapy I'm going to explore whether or not I'm happy in my life or not.
It's been a real roller coaster of a ride for the past 10 years of my life. Exciting, challenging, a little bit scary and heart breaking all at once. I won't lie to you, there have been many times I would like to have been in someone else skin other than my own.
I got to play with Depression a lot. Have for the past decade. I've been on meds for it, and although they helped...there were days...
I stopped believing in a god, mostly because of the depth of depression I was reaching on a regular basis. I stopped praying, because I prayed for six months straight when I went to sleep every night, not to wake up. And every morning, I awoke.
They say that god never gives you more than you can handle. In my case, he severely miscalculated... If god was listening, he was saying 'no'.
Suicide has been considered on several occasions. I've done my research, I've found ways that are painless. ( I hate pain ) But the bottom line is that I cannot, will not leave my wife and kids in such a lurch. I lost my father when I was 17 years old. I had to grow up without a father's guidance. I won't do that to my kids. Suicide negates the insurance payoff. (or so I thought at the time... turns out this wasn't the case and my wife just kept the info from me to help keep me around longer) Besides, several family members would be livid with me. Several others would throw a party you wouldn't believe to celebrate that I was finally gone. ( I suggested "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" be played although I hear through the family grapevine that it's being reserved for Nita when she finally kicks the bucket.)
So am I unhappy with my life? I certainly could be, and probably should be.
But I have the love of a good woman, and three children that I am very proud of. The four of them make my world a terrific place to be. I have extended family that I adore: Jojo, Jim & Gerri, Nikki, Bobbie & Sam, Gary and Sue, Corky & Susan... the list goes on. And two basset hounds that think I walk on water. Although I suspect it's because I feed them. I once heard that "A dog's love in unconditional".
Yeah, as long as you keep putting the Alpo in their dog dish. :)
I blogged not too long ago about what "I wish". I covered a lot of regrets in my life, things I wish I had done differently. Things I wished I had not done at all. For those of you in the know... they had it coming.
I have also been told on many an occasion that I like to wallow. That I like to brood. Sounds so much classier than mope. While I do enjoy the occasional pity party, like the commercial says...depression hurts. Physically. And I do not like to hurt physically. So while it is true that I tend to fret too much for my own good, being enveloped into that black cloud is not fun. And it is very hard to "snap out of it". So while I appreciate comments to cheer up. It's easier said than done. That's why I finally sought medical help for the depression. It was stronger than I was, and I had to finally admit it.
So again, am I happy with my life?
I find that I still find joy in a summer thunderstorm. I look forward to new comicbooks every Wednesday. Every Christmas I get excited about setting up toy trains under the tree. I love scatching behind the ears of my basset hounds and hearing the contented sigh they make.
But am I happy with my life?
I wake up in the morning and look forward to getting out of bed and making my wife breakfast and packing her lunch for work. Knowing that she is heading off to a job that she adores, doing what she has wanted to do for over 30 years. Finally.
My daughter is grown and touring the USA with her boyfriend and his band. Traveling the country and seeing the sights. Living her dream instead of waiting for it to happen. Soon she will marry the man she loves, and she knows true passion in her life.
I look forward to another day with my boys, helping them with their schooling and making sure they get off to work in time. It's not the careers they are waiting for yet...it's customer service. But I know that they will achieve their dreams with a little help and support from their mother and me.
I awake knowing that I get to care for my family, and no longer have to drag myself to a job that I hate, working for a company that I do not respect and wasting 9 hours out of my day that I would rather spend at home with my kids.
And still I wonder if I am happy with my life.
Judging from the silly grin I usually have on my face, I would have to say that I am.
Hee Haw.
Dirty Little Secrets
Dirty Little Secrets
Current mood: contemplative
Catchy title got your attention, didn't it?
Ben Franklin once observed that "Three can keep a secret if two are dead". So true.
I worked for the government for almost 25 years. I know how to keep a secret...but on the other hand, my wife and I talk about EVERYTHING. So it seems that everyone has at least one confidant, someone that they feel they can entrust their most innermost thoughts on just about everything.
So the point of this missive? Possibly that the secrets that you guard so carefully, that you work so hard to keep hidden, just may not be as secure as you think.
I often marvel at the amount of information I know about people, things that they think I don't know about them, that were divulged "in secret". "You can't tell them that I told you this...you can't let them know that you know anything..." Honestly, I do not think any less of these people just because I know something I shouldn't. I love my family and friends because of who they are. I sometimes wonder why people feel the need to share secrets they have promised to keep to themselves. Perhaps they just like feeling a little bit naughty. Or maybe we never got past the silly school girl phase of our lives that would have been better left back in Middle School.
I once told a friend who claimed they never gossiped, that it's like picking your nose. Everyone does it, they just don't like to admit to it.
Our family has secrets. Lots of 'em. That doesn't set us apart from other families, however, as I firmly believe that all families hide information that they think will embarrass "The Good Family Name". The unplanned pregnancies, Illicet sexual activity, the abortions, the incest, sexual abuse, physical abuse, Emotional abuse, the drug abuse, the social indescretions and run-ins with the law, the misdemeanors and even the felonies.
The point again? Nobody is perfect, folks. We're all human, we just tend to forget that from time to time. Or at least we tend to forget that extend that courtesy to those around us. So maybe we need to quit beating each other up so much. And the dirty little secrets? They're just history, folks. You can deny them, admit to them, ignore them, take your pick. In the long run, IMHO, I don't think they really make all that much difference in our lives. They take on whatever importance we give them, whatever power over us that we allow. We can choose what hurts us, or not.
Current mood: contemplative
Catchy title got your attention, didn't it?
Ben Franklin once observed that "Three can keep a secret if two are dead". So true.
I worked for the government for almost 25 years. I know how to keep a secret...but on the other hand, my wife and I talk about EVERYTHING. So it seems that everyone has at least one confidant, someone that they feel they can entrust their most innermost thoughts on just about everything.
So the point of this missive? Possibly that the secrets that you guard so carefully, that you work so hard to keep hidden, just may not be as secure as you think.
I often marvel at the amount of information I know about people, things that they think I don't know about them, that were divulged "in secret". "You can't tell them that I told you this...you can't let them know that you know anything..." Honestly, I do not think any less of these people just because I know something I shouldn't. I love my family and friends because of who they are. I sometimes wonder why people feel the need to share secrets they have promised to keep to themselves. Perhaps they just like feeling a little bit naughty. Or maybe we never got past the silly school girl phase of our lives that would have been better left back in Middle School.
I once told a friend who claimed they never gossiped, that it's like picking your nose. Everyone does it, they just don't like to admit to it.
Our family has secrets. Lots of 'em. That doesn't set us apart from other families, however, as I firmly believe that all families hide information that they think will embarrass "The Good Family Name". The unplanned pregnancies, Illicet sexual activity, the abortions, the incest, sexual abuse, physical abuse, Emotional abuse, the drug abuse, the social indescretions and run-ins with the law, the misdemeanors and even the felonies.
The point again? Nobody is perfect, folks. We're all human, we just tend to forget that from time to time. Or at least we tend to forget that extend that courtesy to those around us. So maybe we need to quit beating each other up so much. And the dirty little secrets? They're just history, folks. You can deny them, admit to them, ignore them, take your pick. In the long run, IMHO, I don't think they really make all that much difference in our lives. They take on whatever importance we give them, whatever power over us that we allow. We can choose what hurts us, or not.
It's All Relative!
It's All Relative!
Current mood: chipper
Relatives.
Love 'em or Leave 'em. Can't live with 'em, can't find enough bottomless wells to drop the remains...
Our delightful niece Nita posted in her blog a while ago, wondering out loud why family isn't always as supportive as one's friends usually are. It's a good question, and one well worth exploring.
Family. Those people that you often have thrust upon you, whether you like them or not. People who often do not pass what I like to call "The Backyard BBQ test". In other words, would I invite these people over for dinner if I wasn't related to them? Fortunately, most pass my test. I enjoy the majority of my relatives, as we are a diverse and opinionated bunch. We are very rarely boring. We are mostly creative and talented, writers, artists and musicians, comedians and sages. Psychics. And we're a bunch of "kooks" as was pointed out recently by some outsiders. Can't argue with the assessment...it's true!
The Gervasio clan in particular are a rather close knit bunch. There is darn little that we wouldn't do for one another. (or in some cases...TO one another...) And we can be very protective of our own as well. You pick on one, you risk raising the ire of the rest. We fight amongst ourselves at times. Sometimes with the greatest of gusto. We're Italian after all...it goes with the territory. So it comes as no surprise that immediate families within the Gervasio clan pull together to support one another. That is as it should be. Husbands and wives defend their spouses, Parents defend their children, Children defend their parents. Doesn't mean that all parties are in the right, just that right or wrong, they tend to support their own. It's all a matter of perspective.
"Perception is Reality"
Good buddy of mine used to say that all the time at the Post Office. I think it applies to everyone. Everybody likes to think they are in the right, their cause is just, God is on their side. (that last one always makes me giggle...) Like going to church every Sunday automatically makes God approve of what you're doing and saying to your "loved ones". Emotional abuse is a no-no, plain and simple. You know who you are.
So why do family members feel free to hurt one another with an almost wild abandon? Does familiarity breed contempt? I think it does. Family members tend to take one another for granted. Forgiveness will be offered because, well,....we're family. Probably one of the biggest misconceptions alive out there. We may be related through blood or marriage, but eventually everyone reaches a breaking point. The kids grow old enough so the relations stop putting up with their psycho mother, buried family histories and secrets re-emerge and make their existance known, the lies we tell each other come to bite us on our respective backsides...take your pick. The simple truth is this. We do not have to put up with the relative pains in the asses in our lives simply because they are relatives. It is quite alright to decide that we can live our lives just fine without their annoying input. We can disown a family member if their behavior is totally out of control and over the top. And in some cases, if they refuse to accept responsibility for their past actions. Sometimes, just because you just plain don't like them. Life is too short to put up with some people. Their nonsense is not to be tolerated because someone made a bad choice in who they married. (or knocked up...I swear, in this day and age of umpteen numbers of birth control available....) on a related topic....Honey, I don't care how many times he begs you, because "it feels so much better"... make him wear the damn condom...remind him that 18 years of child support payments isn't worth the 20 or so seconds of "it feels so much better". Again, you know who you are. Aloha.
Friends.
Those people we choose to hang around with because we enjoy their company. And they in turn enjoy ours. They stay because they choose to. They support because they believe in you. And when you disappoint them, they will withdraw. If only 'family' had such freedom.
We love our friends and family. Where would we be without them?
Probably a whole lot saner.
Current mood: chipper
Relatives.
Love 'em or Leave 'em. Can't live with 'em, can't find enough bottomless wells to drop the remains...
Our delightful niece Nita posted in her blog a while ago, wondering out loud why family isn't always as supportive as one's friends usually are. It's a good question, and one well worth exploring.
Family. Those people that you often have thrust upon you, whether you like them or not. People who often do not pass what I like to call "The Backyard BBQ test". In other words, would I invite these people over for dinner if I wasn't related to them? Fortunately, most pass my test. I enjoy the majority of my relatives, as we are a diverse and opinionated bunch. We are very rarely boring. We are mostly creative and talented, writers, artists and musicians, comedians and sages. Psychics. And we're a bunch of "kooks" as was pointed out recently by some outsiders. Can't argue with the assessment...it's true!
The Gervasio clan in particular are a rather close knit bunch. There is darn little that we wouldn't do for one another. (or in some cases...TO one another...) And we can be very protective of our own as well. You pick on one, you risk raising the ire of the rest. We fight amongst ourselves at times. Sometimes with the greatest of gusto. We're Italian after all...it goes with the territory. So it comes as no surprise that immediate families within the Gervasio clan pull together to support one another. That is as it should be. Husbands and wives defend their spouses, Parents defend their children, Children defend their parents. Doesn't mean that all parties are in the right, just that right or wrong, they tend to support their own. It's all a matter of perspective.
"Perception is Reality"
Good buddy of mine used to say that all the time at the Post Office. I think it applies to everyone. Everybody likes to think they are in the right, their cause is just, God is on their side. (that last one always makes me giggle...) Like going to church every Sunday automatically makes God approve of what you're doing and saying to your "loved ones". Emotional abuse is a no-no, plain and simple. You know who you are.
So why do family members feel free to hurt one another with an almost wild abandon? Does familiarity breed contempt? I think it does. Family members tend to take one another for granted. Forgiveness will be offered because, well,....we're family. Probably one of the biggest misconceptions alive out there. We may be related through blood or marriage, but eventually everyone reaches a breaking point. The kids grow old enough so the relations stop putting up with their psycho mother, buried family histories and secrets re-emerge and make their existance known, the lies we tell each other come to bite us on our respective backsides...take your pick. The simple truth is this. We do not have to put up with the relative pains in the asses in our lives simply because they are relatives. It is quite alright to decide that we can live our lives just fine without their annoying input. We can disown a family member if their behavior is totally out of control and over the top. And in some cases, if they refuse to accept responsibility for their past actions. Sometimes, just because you just plain don't like them. Life is too short to put up with some people. Their nonsense is not to be tolerated because someone made a bad choice in who they married. (or knocked up...I swear, in this day and age of umpteen numbers of birth control available....) on a related topic....Honey, I don't care how many times he begs you, because "it feels so much better"... make him wear the damn condom...remind him that 18 years of child support payments isn't worth the 20 or so seconds of "it feels so much better". Again, you know who you are. Aloha.
Friends.
Those people we choose to hang around with because we enjoy their company. And they in turn enjoy ours. They stay because they choose to. They support because they believe in you. And when you disappoint them, they will withdraw. If only 'family' had such freedom.
We love our friends and family. Where would we be without them?
Probably a whole lot saner.
Star light, star bright...
Current mood: melancholy
I Wish...
...That freight trains still had a caboose at the end. It's like apple pie without the ice cream!
...That I had followed my heart instead of my head when I was 19 years old.
...That I had gone to work for the Santa Fe Railroad instead of the Post Office when I had to choose one over the other.
...That sugar free chocolate tasted as good as a Hershey Kiss!
...That I had been a better father to my children and appreciated them more when they were so young.
...That I had listened to my inner voice and sold and moved our family from the Argon St address after the burglaries and before the house fire.
...That my genes didn't make life such a genetic challenge for my kids.
...That I had been stubborn enough to keep trying to break into comics and/or animation instead of falling back on what I thought was financially secure.
...That I had been a better friend to my buddy Mr. Mike. Maybe then he wouldn't have turned out to be such a schmuck later on in life.
...That I had taken a leap of faith and transferred to Tulsa OK with the post office when I had the chance in 2001.
...That the Hokey Pokey WAS what it's all about!
Current mood: melancholy
I Wish...
...That freight trains still had a caboose at the end. It's like apple pie without the ice cream!
...That I had followed my heart instead of my head when I was 19 years old.
...That I had gone to work for the Santa Fe Railroad instead of the Post Office when I had to choose one over the other.
...That sugar free chocolate tasted as good as a Hershey Kiss!
...That I had been a better father to my children and appreciated them more when they were so young.
...That I had listened to my inner voice and sold and moved our family from the Argon St address after the burglaries and before the house fire.
...That my genes didn't make life such a genetic challenge for my kids.
...That I had been stubborn enough to keep trying to break into comics and/or animation instead of falling back on what I thought was financially secure.
...That I had been a better friend to my buddy Mr. Mike. Maybe then he wouldn't have turned out to be such a schmuck later on in life.
...That I had taken a leap of faith and transferred to Tulsa OK with the post office when I had the chance in 2001.
...That the Hokey Pokey WAS what it's all about!
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