He Is A Placeholder

I once ran into an ex of mine at a movie theater. She was clearly on a date with a guy who I took one look at and rolled my eyes

As we headed to our seats I exchanged some pleasantries with her and noticed him try very hard to ignore me. I snorted and figured he had nothing good to say about me which was fine, because I silently called him “skinny and stupid, a placeholder for someone better.”

Later on as I walked out of the theater I passed him in the lobby and for a moment we made eye contact and I got the feeling he wanted to say something to me.

But I didn’t give him the chance as I had no interest in anything he might share and knew I wasn’t going to be nice.

His thin lips and pinched face didn’t make his appearance any more inviting and certainly didn’t add to what I thought was his attempt to look threatening.

When the therapist asked about I said I had two thoughts about it one being that it was painful and disappointing and that he looked nothing like me.

We took a few minutes to discuss further and then moved back to discussing the importance of investing in ourselves.

Do The Work

Some of the guys and I have an ongoing discussion about the importance of “doing the work.” It is a discussion about taking the time to heal and figure out what we want out of the second half of life.

It is a conversation about finally being in positions in which we can return to focusing on ourselves and chasing some of the dreams that haven’t yet been filled.

We talk about what sorts of classes we want to take and where we think we want to live. Some of us are there and some of us are planning on moving.

“Invest in yourself. You’re not dead. What interests you? What drives your passion? What makes you want to move your body and what makes your heart and soul move.”

It is an interesting time in which you begin to reevaluate who you are now versus who you were and who you want to be.

****

I had one of my twice yearly reviews with my broker and discussed where my portfolio is at and what my current/future goals are.

At the conclusion he told me he thinks of me as being very resilient and quite rational in my approach to life.

I smiled, said thank you and told him I am just me.

“I don’t know how to just lie down and let life abuse me. I have been through more than a couple of really hard times and always come out the other side.

You don’t get there without a willingness to sail through the storms.”

He told me that made sense and then reiterated that he thinks I am very rational and methodical in how I approach things.

I laughed and said it was true to a point.

“I am no different than other people. The people and things that have broken my heart have made me a little crazy. The people and things that have made me sad or angry have sometimes helped me react without thinking.

I pay attention to those who bring out the crazy and to those I feel indifferent to. I have learned to walk away from a lot of things and a lot of people, but it hasn’t been easy.”

We went back and forth for a few more minutes and then he told me he thinks I must be good at my job because I am good at making people feel comfortable talking to me about anything.

“There are some who would agree and probably some who say I am way too intense but that is a different conversation for a different day. I pay you to help me figure out how to retire, don’t want my therapist to feel like I am screwing around on him.

Hampshire Road In Thousand Oaks

I thought I heard someone say Hampshire Road as I was walking out of the gym and it immediately got my attention.

Been driving by it off of the 101 since I was a little kid. I think it first got my attention because it didn’t say “New” and when I was little I wondered if someone made a mistake.

As I grew it got to be a landmark I could use to figure out how much longer it would take the bus I rode in or car I drove to camp.

And then it was a landmark I could use to figure out how close I was to my grandparents’ place at Leisure Village or my parents’ last house in Thousand Oaks.

It also occupies a place in memory from some of the times I drove my father back and forth for his chemotherapy appointments.

If I close my eyes I can hear him snoring in the passengers seat and can remember a parade of memories and images floating through my mind.

It felt surreal in some ways, because I had so many memories of sitting in the back seat of our station wagon watching the scenery pass by while mom and my sisters slept and he drove us back home on family vacations.

Can’t forget passing Hampshire and thinking I’d stop at the Westlake branch of Brent’s Deli and how he woke up long enough to tell me to buy him a chopped liver sandwich.

****

Meanwhile the walk through the past gets interrupted by the presence of his 20 year-old granddaughter who needs my help fixing a few things.

She catches me staring at her and wants to know why I am looking so hard and I have to force myself not to call her Emmacita the way he would sometimes.

She liked it when he did it, but doesn’t always appreciate when I do it.

“You’re not grandpa.”

She is right, I am not and she won’t appreciate my telling her how he told me he was sorry he wasn’t going to get to see her grow up.  She especially won’t appreciate my saying he laughed when he said she was going to give me a run for my money.

He said it with so much love, so proud of her. I won’t be able to express it to her properly so I have to hold on to that for myself and smile.

It is a bittersweet smile because he only got to know her until she was 14 and he has already missed so much.

But he is here in other ways, though she won’t recognize that either.

She won’t be aware of how I catch myself instructing her on how we’re going to do a couple of these things or how I tell her to move the light and hear his voice instead of mine.

Nor will she look at my hands, duplicates of his and see the blur between me and him that I sometimes see.

****

It is so very wild growing older. Got stories I could tell him and words I could share explaining what I am working on now and how I invest in myself for a future I am just beginning to write.

Kind of scary, kind of exciting, but that is what change is, now isn’t it.