There is an old expression that states, “You live by the sword, you die by the sword.” It is an old adage that basically means that you must live and die by the decisions that you make. At the basic core, it means that a person must be responsible for their actions. I have never understood people who have lamented about the hand that life has dealt them. Some people act like the world owes them a living or that fate has somehow given them their crappy life.
I feel that life is what you make it.
Decisions come along in your life and you can look back and say, “This is the decision that took me on my path.” And it is that choice and that decision that you can look back on and often wonder where your life might have gone had taken a different road. If you taken the blue pill instead of the red one. If you had taken what was behind Door #2 instead of what was in the box. Damn you, Monty Hall.
My dad lived a life as a fantastic salesman for various companies after leaving the United States Air Force. And, as business was back in those days, we went where the money was. Which meant I moved from Tulsa to Indianapolis to Charlotte and later to settle in Adair, Oklahoma as part of those business deals. We went where the money and the opportunity was. But in making those choices, we sacrificed certain things—most notably connection with family.
See, my family is scattered across the country with some family in Oklahoma but others are located in Virginia, California, Montana, Texas and I think I have some family in Florida. However, I have barely met the majority of my family.
Then we move to Adair, Oklahoma. In this area, many families stay incredibly close with one another and most family is within quick driving distance. This is an area where cousins are everywhere. It was a bit of a culture shock for me when we first moved here.
However, I know that this is where I was meant to be. I accepted Adair and Northeastern Oklahoma whole-heartedly and with the exception of a small stint down in Dallas to go to school, this is where I have lived and will continue to live for the rest of my life. Even if Amy and I won the lottery tomorrow, we would probably build our dream house right next to our current house.
For me it was an easy decision.
Other decisions are not so easy.
After a greatly successful career in sales selling ice to Eskimos, my dad was given an opportunity to go back into a career with the military, training kids how to fly planes in giant simulators that are the equivalent to multimillion-dollar video game machines. However, to do this, he would have to travel to the opposite corner of the state, which meant a separation from me in Adair.
I was pretty bummed about this, as is to be expected, as my mom and dad moved down to Altus, Oklahoma, which is a good six-hour drive. So, I was a tad upset that my parents left my area but during my trip down to see my dad, my whole perspective changed.
He walked with such confidence as he took me to where he worked. He was in his element. This is what he was put on this earth to do. This was his calling and even more so, he was good at it. No, he’s great at his job.
And on my way back home, I had a sudden epiphany. Who was I to selfishly ask my dad to stay in my area when he had a chance to be in his element and truly enjoy his job? Would I love for him to work in the Tulsa area? Sure, I wish there could have been an Air Force base in Tulsa. But this is how life goes some times.
(Maybe this is why I am so happy that my dream-job—writing comics—allows me to stay here in my low-cost-of-living-Adair and email my scripts to my publishers!)
So while I continued to live my life here in Adair, my mom would eventually move to Sallisaw to oversee the construction of their retirement house. She would finish construction right about the time it was time for Dad to retire. He would move up to Sallisaw and eventually, “Veranda” would become a vacation destination. When my kids got older, they would go down to stay with Grandma and Granddaddy for a week of boats and sea-doos and swimming.
Sure the distance (an hour and half) was a little too long for me but who was I to tell them where to build their house when they were clearly in love with Lake Kerr? And on my few trips down there, I have to admit, it was a tremendous property filled with tranquility. It was a little slice of paradise for my parents.
But certain financial arrangements came along. Dad was making incredible money and the decision was made for dad to continue working and not retire as early as he thought. And clearly, Mom wanted to be with her husband, so the plan was for them to secure Veranda with an alarm system and have Mom move back down to Altus at the end of 2005 until they made their triumphant return to Lake Kerr.
And then my mom got sick…
And this is where the decisions of life come into play. My mom was in terrible pain in October of 2005 and she was forced to move early down to Altus because she could no longer take care of herself.
In mid-November, she was diagnosed with cancer.
On December 28th, she passed away from the illness.
Because of this distance, I was unable to be with my mother during her darkest hour. Too many things were stacked against me. I had to work. My kids were in school. Kids weren’t allowed in the progressive care unit where she was placed. There was the incredible distance. And then there was the small matter of the fact that I refuse to be in the same room with my sister.
So I had to settle for phone calls. Sure I would have liked to have video conferencing and all that but no sense crying about spilled milk.
And with all illnesses of this nature, we didn’t know how much time she had. Initial bouts of dementia were masked as reaction to her pain medication. And then like that… she was gone.
Strangely though, I have never considered my decisions as a source of grief for me. The only one that I look back on with regret is that I let an argument with my sister slightly influence my decision to be with my mom. I regretted that fact because that was the one part of the equation that I could have actually controlled.
Still, I have never wandered about the moors at night crying about how life treated me unfairly and robbed me of my final conversation with my mom.
These were the decision that my family and I had made. And I live by those decisions. How can we live otherwise?
When I write all this out, it seems perfectly logical to me. However, some people don’t seem to share my view.
Some people just decide to live differently I guess.
I pity those people.
I feel that life is what you make it.
Decisions come along in your life and you can look back and say, “This is the decision that took me on my path.” And it is that choice and that decision that you can look back on and often wonder where your life might have gone had taken a different road. If you taken the blue pill instead of the red one. If you had taken what was behind Door #2 instead of what was in the box. Damn you, Monty Hall.
My dad lived a life as a fantastic salesman for various companies after leaving the United States Air Force. And, as business was back in those days, we went where the money was. Which meant I moved from Tulsa to Indianapolis to Charlotte and later to settle in Adair, Oklahoma as part of those business deals. We went where the money and the opportunity was. But in making those choices, we sacrificed certain things—most notably connection with family.
See, my family is scattered across the country with some family in Oklahoma but others are located in Virginia, California, Montana, Texas and I think I have some family in Florida. However, I have barely met the majority of my family.
Then we move to Adair, Oklahoma. In this area, many families stay incredibly close with one another and most family is within quick driving distance. This is an area where cousins are everywhere. It was a bit of a culture shock for me when we first moved here.
However, I know that this is where I was meant to be. I accepted Adair and Northeastern Oklahoma whole-heartedly and with the exception of a small stint down in Dallas to go to school, this is where I have lived and will continue to live for the rest of my life. Even if Amy and I won the lottery tomorrow, we would probably build our dream house right next to our current house.
For me it was an easy decision.
Other decisions are not so easy.
After a greatly successful career in sales selling ice to Eskimos, my dad was given an opportunity to go back into a career with the military, training kids how to fly planes in giant simulators that are the equivalent to multimillion-dollar video game machines. However, to do this, he would have to travel to the opposite corner of the state, which meant a separation from me in Adair.
I was pretty bummed about this, as is to be expected, as my mom and dad moved down to Altus, Oklahoma, which is a good six-hour drive. So, I was a tad upset that my parents left my area but during my trip down to see my dad, my whole perspective changed.
He walked with such confidence as he took me to where he worked. He was in his element. This is what he was put on this earth to do. This was his calling and even more so, he was good at it. No, he’s great at his job.
And on my way back home, I had a sudden epiphany. Who was I to selfishly ask my dad to stay in my area when he had a chance to be in his element and truly enjoy his job? Would I love for him to work in the Tulsa area? Sure, I wish there could have been an Air Force base in Tulsa. But this is how life goes some times.
(Maybe this is why I am so happy that my dream-job—writing comics—allows me to stay here in my low-cost-of-living-Adair and email my scripts to my publishers!)
So while I continued to live my life here in Adair, my mom would eventually move to Sallisaw to oversee the construction of their retirement house. She would finish construction right about the time it was time for Dad to retire. He would move up to Sallisaw and eventually, “Veranda” would become a vacation destination. When my kids got older, they would go down to stay with Grandma and Granddaddy for a week of boats and sea-doos and swimming.
Sure the distance (an hour and half) was a little too long for me but who was I to tell them where to build their house when they were clearly in love with Lake Kerr? And on my few trips down there, I have to admit, it was a tremendous property filled with tranquility. It was a little slice of paradise for my parents.
But certain financial arrangements came along. Dad was making incredible money and the decision was made for dad to continue working and not retire as early as he thought. And clearly, Mom wanted to be with her husband, so the plan was for them to secure Veranda with an alarm system and have Mom move back down to Altus at the end of 2005 until they made their triumphant return to Lake Kerr.
And then my mom got sick…
And this is where the decisions of life come into play. My mom was in terrible pain in October of 2005 and she was forced to move early down to Altus because she could no longer take care of herself.
In mid-November, she was diagnosed with cancer.
On December 28th, she passed away from the illness.
Because of this distance, I was unable to be with my mother during her darkest hour. Too many things were stacked against me. I had to work. My kids were in school. Kids weren’t allowed in the progressive care unit where she was placed. There was the incredible distance. And then there was the small matter of the fact that I refuse to be in the same room with my sister.
So I had to settle for phone calls. Sure I would have liked to have video conferencing and all that but no sense crying about spilled milk.
And with all illnesses of this nature, we didn’t know how much time she had. Initial bouts of dementia were masked as reaction to her pain medication. And then like that… she was gone.
Strangely though, I have never considered my decisions as a source of grief for me. The only one that I look back on with regret is that I let an argument with my sister slightly influence my decision to be with my mom. I regretted that fact because that was the one part of the equation that I could have actually controlled.
Still, I have never wandered about the moors at night crying about how life treated me unfairly and robbed me of my final conversation with my mom.
These were the decision that my family and I had made. And I live by those decisions. How can we live otherwise?
When I write all this out, it seems perfectly logical to me. However, some people don’t seem to share my view.
Some people just decide to live differently I guess.
I pity those people.
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