Like most young folks I made a lot of mistakes when I was young. Now almost 50 years later I ponder those mistakes. I fell in love back then, that wasn’t a mistake but my mistakes caused us to split-up. I was aiming way above my class. We were from totally different backgrounds. I was a military brat who pulled up roots every couple of years. I was a bit wild and my intelligence quotient was not being put to suitable use. The torch I carried for her still burns bright but the gap between our worlds has gotten even wider.
I just wasn’t suitable, according to her father. I struggled to prove myself worthy and get some respect. That’s why I joined the police force and then the Army. I was constantly trying to improve myself. I volunteered for anything and everything. I took risks to prove myself. The problem was those risks took me farther away from the young man she knew. I worked primarily undercover mixing with all strata of society, but I was just acting; I never belonged. I rubbed elbows with entertainers and politicians, crooks and cops in almost 50 different countries.
I learned about the seamier side of life both that in the gutter and that on Mount Olympus. I got to see behind the curtain. I was proud that I was in a small way protecting those at home, even though sometimes they wouldn’t understand or condone the actions I had to take. It took its toll on me both physically and mentally.
After a forced retirement the real me is still developing, I have become a paranoid lazy slob. I enjoy a slower almost sedentary pace. I have eclectic tastes in music. I read dictionaries for enjoyment. I talk to my dogs more than people. Over the years I have become more introverted, more judgmental and more of a procrastinator.
When we were dating I was more of a county boy, today I still have no idea what I am. In striving to prove myself as worthy I seem to have lost myself. I have been in multiple situations where I should have died and yet I survived but each time I lost more of myself. My dreams now or I should say my nightmares remind me of my stupidity and my recklessness.
As for the girl, after a couple of false starts it seems as if she has found happiness. She has traveled some, she has struggled and overcome. She has raised a family. It appears she made the right choice all those years ago, but that doesn’t stop the “what if’s”.
That certainly is a life in a nutshell. It looks like you're still searching for that elusive success that invades most of us. I guess what we should really try to attain is contentment.
After a long awaited weekend visitation caused by false allegations of sexual abuse, Glen got to see his children for the first time in over two months. He promised them that they would never be apart again and then they disappeared.
Rosetta was born in 1909 as the youngest of ten children. The family had more laughter than money and neighbors would knock on their door to ask, "Can we come in and laugh, too?"
This is not a drill. The attack on Pearl. They were the ghost planes of the night, deadly, illusive, sharp-clawed Black Cats. The Memoirs of ARM H.P. Lawrence, a Pearl Harbor survivor, Black Cat, and decorated war veteran.
Ron