The Runtyun

She was born the same month that I was, forty years later though. When the excitement of the birth was over and the baby was clean and wrapped up in her birthing cloths, when I stopped feeling woozy and found a certain control over my emotions. The nurse handed me the cooing little bundle–my daughter.

She was warm in my arms. All I could see were her eyes, they were so big. I know that at only a few minutes of age there is not very much for a baby to reference, yet she looked straight at me and she had me. At the time I did not know the adventures that I would go through as a father. The things I would endure as a parent and man. At the time all I saw were eyes and a bright red pudgy face and a little bubble of saliva at the corner of her mouth.

I put her down on the birthing table and just stared. What had I done? This little creature, perfect with ten toes and ten fingers, one little head that looked too big for that little body. What had I done? I put my hand out to her to see what she would do. Nothing. I guess she could not see–being only few minutes old. My finger brushed her hand, she did not jump, but reached out and gripped my finger. She was strong!

She would have to be strong coming into the life I was involved in. We went through a few struggles before getting to the somewhat stable life we live now. During her toddler years she was very out going. Her smile in the morning was brighter than the sun at sunrise. It carried me through some of my darkest days.

Now she is so wise, yet strangely naive. She can understand things beyond her years, yet in another minute ask a question so innocent that I can only wonder. The Runtyun is growing into a fine person despite my parenting skills.

I have stumbled through this whole parenting experiment and you know what? She is doing pretty well despite me.


Showing posts with label A question. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A question. Show all posts

Monday, February 24, 2020

Here we go again

Feb 25, 2020

I cannot seem to hold a thought for more than a couple of seconds. Even now I forget what it was that I was trying to say.  I say that I let myself get distracted, but is that true? Or is my brain even capable of holding a thought for more than a couple of moments?

Who wants to admit that they cannot think in cohesive thoughts?  

good night.

February 24, 2020

A couple of nights ago I had an epiphany of a sort. I was working, cleaning up the meat cutting room when it came to me that I am really 59 years old and have accomplished very little in this life which I am living. I want my life to have meaning, a purpose maybe. Yet, while I am at work the most common thing I say to myself  is, “I don’t care.” There really is nothing that I am doing in my life that I care about.

I have no direction.

My place is a mess since we moved there. I have not been able to find a place to put my stuff and I have become complacent over the disarray. All of my photo gear is still packed up even though I could be doing something with it. I have all of this stuff that I could be selling on eBay or someplace. There is lots of stuff I could be trading on-line, I am just not motivated.

I even have a plan on how to do it, I just need to start doing and stop merely planning.

Here is a for instance: I have been wanting to restart this journal of thoughts for almost 2 weeks, but every time I start to work on it I let myself be distracted by the next interesting thing on YouTube.

This malaise I am describing kind of reminds me of what Dad is going through. He has a hard time initiating anything. As his dementia grows he seems less and less motivated. I personally, am struggling against that. And it is a hard, hard battle.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

She brings me back


I had a crappy day. I made the usual mistakes and could not hide them from others. They piled up and brought my usual somber mood even lower usual.
The truth is, I did not want to go home, I just wanted to isolate and lick my self inflicted wounds. The other side of my thinking was that I did not want to bring my beautiful daughter down to my level of depression. We had talked a little through text and I could see she was really happy with the world and it makes my psyche even worse when I inflict my sullen outlook on her.
I steeled myself for her effervescence and made myself look at her without inflicting my foul outlook on her. I must have done something right because within 5 minutes she made me smile...ten and I actually laughed for the first time aaaaalllllllllll day---long.
The stupid shit I did during the day is still running around my brain, but thanks to my little Runtyun I have a smile to beat back the negativeness that wants to beat me up.
Am I wrong to accept her energy to bring me back from my depths of psychic gloom?


olc