Recoil

Late night blogging leads to maudlin posts...

The other day I was talking with someone. No big surprise, I'm kind of an "over-sharer," meaning I tend to speak a little too much about personal matters. I guess I feel a bit overwhelmed at times with my various roles as a father, a husband, a friend, even as an employee. I tell little stories about the strange things that happen to me, often cast in a humorous light. It's better to find the joke, I think. Real life, every one's life, is a little disturbing.

The friend I was talking to, a kind ear, was remarking very positively how they thought I was a good man. I'd taken on what I didn't have to. Others would have stepped aside, and I've thought about that a lot this weekend.

What I didn't say, but should have, is I'm not that great. I'm not that good. The sly, silent observers know this to be true.

The truth is I'm better with the people I've chosen in my life than without. This was accidental. I didn't choose to be a parent or a husband again because I thought it would make a better me. I didn't think of it that way. My improvements, and I think I've grown, are because of the people I've chosen to spend my days and nights with. Certainly, I didn't expect some of the weirdness or the conflict, but there have been good things, too. A lot of them.

No matter what else, I have always gotten the better end of the deal.