I Do Hope For The Best

I got a text at work Friday night from the woman that my Dad lives with. It said, “they’re moving him to I.C.U.” I called her immediately to ask what was wrong, I didn’t even know he was in the hospital. Laverne told me that ever since he had the pacemaker put in, he’d had a problem with falling down. I knew about an incident, a week or two earlier, in which he had fallen while walking a friend’s dog and required a trip to the emergency room where he received a number of stitches on his face and had a number of scratches to go along with it. I’d spoken to him a couple times since then and he seemed fine. We were able to joke about how unattractive I was sure he looked.

So, again, why was he being moved into the I.C.U. let alone be in the hospital? Well, it seems that when Laverne brought him into the hospital for his normal visit with the Dr. she mentioned the falling down. The Dr’s. felt this was something they should check out and admitted him into the emergency room and ran some tests. It was during these tests that they discovered two things. First: the pacemaker was set too high and they needed to adjust it. No big deal, I’m sure this kind of thing happens more than we all would think. Secondly, and more importantly, they found what Laverne called, a slow leak in his heart that would require surgery.

Dad’s been going to the V.A. Dr’s. pretty much since he retired and was at the local hospital in Chicago. It turns out that they either don’t do this type of surgery there or none at all so they will have to move him to Milwaukee on Monday for the operation to take place there. I’m pretty sure this is not some earthshaking operation and it probably gets done on quite a regular basis. I know that with all the advances in medicine he’ll be in much better hands than he would if this was 20 years earlier. That still doesn’t make one take pause and wonder if this is possibly the last time I’ll ever hear from him. I know, that sounds so morbid and pessimistic but it’s not meant to be. Dad’s going to be 78 in July and has never been in any kind of shape physically. He’s never been one to exercise or eat properly and at his age, let’s just say, things started to catch up on him years ago.

I’ve written a number of things about my Father and his relationship with his children so I won’t rehash any of that now. What I will say is that I hope he comes through this in good shape and lives many, many more years. I do wish I was more invested in this emotionally than I seem to be. It just seems like I should be all about this right now and I’m having a hard time getting all worked up about it. I feel bad about that but I can only feel what I feel.

A Shadow Of Doubt

It’s an amazing thing, what self-doubt can do to a life. It can change the course of ones existence so drastically and bury one so deep within himself that the true inner person may never see the light of day. Self-doubt often plays such a large role in life that it really doesn’t matter what others are telling you about yourself. Their compliments and praises are but a faint noise compared to the booming voice inside your head telling you no or you can’t do this or that.

I’m sure we’ve all been victims of this disease called doubt and I’m sure the stories out there, for some, are true tragedies. I know from my own experience how crippling and controlling it can be. Doubt can take you away from family and friends and create layer upon layer of a shelter so thick that, without help of some sort, you may never find your way out.

As a small child I was constantly being teased about being fat. As is quite the norm for children, my two older brothers and their friends would always come up with some line or joke about my weight. As is want to happen, I started not only believing what those around me were saying, I started to build the first of the numerous walls I’ve surrounded myself with throughout my life. I bought into this fat thing so much that after I got sick in high school and shrunk to 123 lbs. with a waist line of 24, I still thought of myself as fat. I’ve gotten a lot better about it, and though the thought of being fat isn’t the constant it once was, it’s still there.

I know that the effect of growing up with that type of doubt about myself has played a major part in numerous events throughout my life. The easiest example is my absolute failure in developing any real romantic relationships. That’s not really the right term. It’s my failure of trying to develop said relationships. Yes, I was married, but there is no way anyone who saw that develop could say I was in any way the catalyst in that relationship. Actually, my lack of belief in myself was probably the one thing that ensured that the marriage wouldn’t last.

Don’t misunderstand what I’m saying here. I’m not blaming my brothers for the problems created during my youth that I’ve allowed to control my adult life. I’m just trying to pinpoint the beginnings of some of the issues that have helped to create those walls I spoke of earlier. I’m also quite aware that all kids are made fun of and teased and many never carry any of that trash past their youth. I, on the other hand, wasn’t able to shake that stuff when I was supposed to leave my childhood behind.

I’d like to think I’m putting some cracks in that oldest of walls that have surrounded me for well over forty years. I still have a poor self image but not as bad as it once was. I’d also like to believe that I’m constantly working on breaking down those other shields I’ve surrounded myself with. It is , as is most of life, a process, a process that probably takes a lifetime to complete. I figure that as long as I keep working on it, things can only get better.

Don't Mess With My Facebook

I’ve been reading Mitch Albom for years. Always enjoyed his stuff and look forward to the Sunday Free Press just to read his column. In todays column Mitch wrote of a number of things that he’d like to see happen in 2010. One of the lines he wrote was “Bye bye Facebook”. Well, if you know me at all, you know I just can’t sit and let that go without comment. I just sent an email to Mitch Albom about this and I’m just going to copy it here.

Hi Mitch,

First off, let me say, I'm a huge fan. I've enjoyed your writing for years and have written to you in the past. I even received a reply to an email I sent a few years ago and I found that to be very nice. I met you at a Best Buy a year ago this past summer and you were quite generous with your time as we spoke about that evenings "Police" concert. Again, I'm a big fan and read your column on a regular basis.

I feel the need to comment on today's column. I must say I agreed with all but one line. "Bye bye Facebook". I need to tell you, Facebook has changed my life only for the better and, if you have the time, I'd like to tell you how and why.

I grew up in the Detroit area and left Michigan in 1980. I lived in Southern Ca. for 25 years and, after my divorce, moved to Naples Florida. I was alone and had few friends, not being one to frequent bars and clubs, it's been a common theme throughout my life. After a couple years down there I decided to move back to Michigan to be closer to family.

After a number of months working in the homebuilding business I received an email from friend in Spain asking me to join her on Facebook. I did it just for laughs and we would converse on it every once in awhile. After a number of months I deactivated the account and thought nothing of it.

A short while after that I got an email from a friend saying they had been looking for me on Facebook and couldn't find me. I reactivated the account and connected with this friend. I then started looking for any name from my past and found many people from my high school that I hadn't seen since graduation. As the site grew more popular, the number of people from my past that I was in contact with grew with it.

Never having been one to go out much, I would always spend evenings home alone. Having reconnected with this group of people I began to socialize on a regular basis. Facebook is responsible for that. There is no way I would have been able to reconnect with all these people had it not been for this site. Just the other night I went to a New Years party at a friends house that I never even spoke to in high school but, again, because of Facebook we have become rather close friends.

My 30'th high school reunion was held this past November. Facebook, again, played a major role in not only getting everyone together but in keeping me in contact with all these people that I have developed a fondness for that I've felt for very few in my life. Again, without Facebook, none of this would have happened.

I've reconnected with a friend from my youth that moved to Australia, wouldn't have happened without Facebook. I go out for dinner on a regular basis with folks that I never would have found had it not been for Facebook. Suffice it to say Mitch, to paraphrase Chico Esquela, Facebook been bery bery good to me. I know of at least 200 others in my circle that would agree with me on that.

I stated at the beginning of this note that Facebook has changed my life. It has in so many ways with each being better than the other. I owe that kid that started this site more thanks than I could ever give. I owe him the debt of helping me find happiness in a life that always had a hard time locating it. No, Facebook isn't the only reason for said happiness, but it was the agent of change that encouraged it more than anything else and I will defend this site forever because of that.

Thank for listening Mitch,

Kevin Mittleman

Honey, I'm home!

Tried real hard not to write yesterday even though I felt this mad urge all day long. I’m a pretty nostalgic kind of guy and even though I went out a couple times with friends, all I kept thinking about was that last New Years day was not a very good day at all. It was the day that I woke up with the realization that my brother had cancer. I couldn’t possibly count the number of times I found myself getting chocked up at the remembrance of that day. Thankfully Steve survived the scare and everyone’s feeling good about the way things turned out.

So why try to avoid writing all day? I just felt that once I started writing about it I’d spend the entire day doing nothing but dwelling on it and making myself, yes, forcing myself, to be down. I just didn’t want to feel that bad all day. That’s what happens when I write about something that has made me sad or is in the process of it. I dig myself into this funk that, though I might argue makes my writing better, just keeps me in the doldrums for the entire day.

Even though I kept thinking about Steve and the events of a year ago, I kept myself busy enough to make sure it didn’t destroy the day. I ended up meeting a friend for breakfast, came home and napped on and off for a few hours, then met the same friend and another for dinner and a movie. We had originally planned on going to this animation festival but once I found that the admission didn’t include the $15.00 bar minimum I was sort of turned off by the event. I can’t imagine a time that I would find myself drinking $15.00 worth of alcohol.

I did have a number of rather random thoughts throughout the day. I’ve been finding that I can really make the day go much smoother when I don’t totally concentrate on whatever the subject is at hand. It’s a good thing that I’m able to multitask in that way. I can easily converse with friends over dinner while at the same time run a number of different thoughts through the filter. I’m even able to store something for later if I think it’s something I may feel the need to write about.

Throughout the day I kept finding myself heading towards one common theme in these random thoughts. I kept getting to the end of whatever the stream was and would find myself thinking that it was good to be here. By here I mean the whole package. I mean it was good that I was able to spend New Years Eve at a friend’s house with a number of other folks and not feel pressured to do anything. It wasn’t too crowded, or too loud. It was easy to jump into a conversation if I felt the need, and just as easy to pop right back out of said discussion without feeling guilty.

By here, I mean walking Lucky in this ridiculously biting wind that wouldn’t go away yesterday morning. I mean, here in the middle of a million snowflakes, as I run out to my friend’s car as we headed out to breakfast. This friend, being someone I’ve known since I was 11 years old and have probably had a similar ride, out to breakfast with him at least a hundred times.

By here, I mean going to dinner with these friends I’ve known forever and walking to the theater from the car and the only thought I could verbalize in the frozen air was, “Dang, it sure isn’t warm out here.” By here I mean coming home after the movie and getting online and chatting with a few friends that I’ve only begun to know in the last year or so. By here I mean home.

Yes home. I’m starting to feel a little comfortable in my skin for the first time in ages. It’s different but doable. I have to register my car on Monday and I’m switching from Florida to Michigan. I’m debating on whether to get a personalized plate or not. If I do get one I’ve been thinking about what it might say. I think I might see if “I’m Home” is available.

If You Don't Expect Too Much From Me, You Might Not Be Let Down

There are a couple things Shrink and I talk about that seem to come up on a regular basis. They are my constant feeling of never wanting to offend anyone and my total fear of expectations. The not offending people isn’t about when jokes are being told or busting someone’s nuts over something, I’m talking about seriously doing all I can to not make them feel slighted in any way. I think, in a way, I’m like that to avoid any hint of confrontation, never been a fan of that.

The expectation thing is something a bit different. This is something I’ve struggled with my whole life, I remember as a kid being told how much potential I had in school and I would do everything possible to make people realize they were wrong about it. Why would I do that? I tell ya, it’s one of the great unanswered questions of life. I stopped playing sports as a youth once people started telling me I had some talent at whatever the sport was and telling me how much further I could go with said talent.

I remember, as a kid, making a conscious decision to not drink simply because everyone expected me to join them. Granted, this isn’t a bad thing, but it most certainly has had an effect on my life. I would avoid parties that I was expected to attend, not go out on weekends simply because I was supposed to. I really became rather bratty about it. It became almost an ego thing, if you expected me to do it, well then, it simply wasn’t going to happen, I mean, how dare you think you could know what I was going to do.

The effects this has had on my entire life are far reaching indeed. When one doesn’t obtain the social skills and confidence one normally does as a youth by attending social gatherings, he kind of becomes used to the idea of continuing the trend into adulthood. It gets to the point where I end up convincing myself that I still need to make sure that I still don’t meet the expectations put upon me.

It doesn’t even matter who’s doing the expecting, it could be me, there’s always this little voice or force that’s pushes me away from it. I’ve become more aware of the battle within that goes on when trying to avoid the expected as the years have gone by. I think I’m getting better at not worrying about the expectation and just doing what’s right for me though there are still issues that arise on a daily basis.

Shrink and I talk about all the evenings I go out with friends and how “under pressure” I feel each time. She tells me I can always say no, that I don’t have to go out as often as I do. She’s right, of course. Just because I’m invited somewhere doesn’t mean I have to accept. There is another side to it though. I somehow have this feeling inside that I’ve missed so much as a kid and even most of my adult life that I almost need to accept all these invites. I’m almost afraid of missing all the chances that I foolishly avoided in the past. I actually told shrink that I feel like I’m afraid I just may miss something I might enjoy. Kind of like trying to redo the past.

Of course, along with all this are the normal, everyday conflicts I go through when I do anything. The anxiety builds and I do what I can to fight it off. Then there’s the whole expectation thing. I work on that everyday. It’s tough convincing myself that just because someone expects something from me doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. I’m just so crazy that I actually try to analyze each “expectation” to see if it’s worth the inner battle to try to get over or simply fall back to old ways and avoid it completely.

Once again, an essay with no clear finish. Of course, why would it be finished, that might meet someone’s expectation of me and why would I ever want that.

It Seems They're Stuck With Me

Had my 30-year high school reunion the other night. Before I get started about the whole thing, let me say this: I did enjoy the evening, it was so much better than my fears led me to believe it would be. Those that were responsible for the planning and organizing of the soiree, as it were, should be genuinely congratulated. I spent most of the last few months doing everything I could to avoid getting involved in the setting up of this grand event and after seeing what they went through to put the event together, I know why. Remarkably hard work to ensure the joy of each and every person that showed up and I know that everyone appreciates all the hard work they did.

There were well over 100 people there and, surprisingly, I remembered more of them than I thought I would. I say surprisingly because of the number of folks that showed up, I may have spent time with about 10% of them way back when. That, right there, is what seems to be weighing me down since Saturday night.

How on earth did I get so jaded?

So I’m at the reunion and seeing and talking to so many people that I had only dreamed of associating with all those years ago and the things they’re saying to me are the things I so longed to hear back then. I’ve always been totally convinced that many of these people thought me nothing more than one of those burnouts that was, at best, apathetic about anything that had to do with school.

I regret so much the fact that I never even attempted becoming more involved in school activities. I was casually friendly with a number of the kids that were, but never spent any time even getting to know them, nor did I allow them the opportunity to know me. I always figured they didn’t want to. Hell, back then; I didn’t want to know me.

Since coming back to Michigan I’ve been so fortunate to not only renew and grow those past acquaintances but have literally been introduced to those I never even spoke to back then and have found these people to be such wonderfully warm individuals that I’m made somewhat sadder realizing what I’ve been missing in them for all these years.

Well, there is a fix and I plan on spending the rest of my days ensuring that cure is successful. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve charged myself with a mission, that mission being to make sure those regrets are no more. I’ve said it before and yes, it’s so corny but it’s true. I am so in love with these people and everything they have to offer and I plan on bathing myself in that love till they simply can’t stand it anymore. Once that happens, I’ll just love them all a wee bit more.

Bar Night 2009

A few years ago a couple guys from my hometown got together and thought about how nice it would be to see all their old high school friends again. They decided that Thanksgiving weekend would be a good time for it as many of the out of towners would be in for the Holiday and they picked a local establishment to meet at. Last night was this year’s version and I get the feeling that it’s grown much larger than these guys ever dreamed.

This was my second go round with what has become known as “Oak Park Bar Night” and it truly is a major party. It’s almost like walking down the halls of my old school between classes. Seeing this group of people here and that gang over there. So many familiar faces, it’s kinda nice to know that I can identify most of them after all these years. I think most of those there could. Of course we’re almost cheating at the game because of this computer age we’re in.

There are a number of people who give me grief about my use of the social network Facebook. Yes, I’m quite the regular and you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way. As I was ducking and dodging my way through the sardine can full of people from my high school last night, I couldn’t help noticing how many of the folks there were only there because of Facebook. Admit it, you guys that were a part of it, how many people that you are now in contact with from your youth are a direct result of Facebook? I’m willing to bet most.

Anyway, I met an old friend and her fiancé for dinner at around seven, a couple other folks came and sat with us, one that I hadn’t seen since junior high and as the place started filling up I felt the need to get out from the table and move around. I don’t know if I made the right decision. It was kinda six of one, a half dozen of the other. Rather immobile either way.

There was an amazing amount of people there. Everywhere I looked I saw a face that took me back. Sure, there were plenty of people I knew and am in regular contact with but this being the weekend of my high school reunion, I saw numerous faces of former classmates I haven’t seen since school. Some were good friends back in the day and others were just faces in the hall. All of them, in their own way, gave me the warm and fuzzies that I seem to be feeling more and more these days. I took my camera with me but, as usual, I didn’t really use it. I always feel weird about running around snapping away.

Tonight is my 30’Th high school reunion. I’ve not been to any of the previous ones and the old nerves of steel I’ve never had seem to be staying on their permanent vacation. It’s really strange, the way I feel going into any of these events. I’m so nervous leading up to the shindig it’s like I’m about to speak in front of thousands of people, yet once I get there, I’m totally at ease. It’s like I own the room and can do with it as I wish. I can control conversations and put things right where I want to. It’s like I’m right where I’m supposed to be. That’s kinda nice isn’t it?