Life Is For Learning

I used to have a life. Every day I woke up and showered, shaved, dressed, and drove to work—to a job I enjoyed. After work I usually drove to my favorite restaurant & bar where I would eat dinner and chat with the wait staff and regular customers I knew. Most of the time I drank iced tea. On a weekend I might drink a beer or two. But that would be over a period of several hours, so I never left the bar “buzzed”.

Then the company I worked for declared bankruptcy and laid off its employees. I decided to retire. More accurately, I decided not to fly hither and yon around the country in search of another engineering job. I was 54 — 8 years from social security — and jobs for older engineers are difficult to find. Companies prefer to hire young engineers for a number of reasons. I didn’t think about it a lot. I had resources and plenty of time to ponder my future.

Three years later my mother passed away, leaving behind a very cluttered house and garage. Reluctantly, I moved from Roanoke to the city where I grew up. I moved into the family home to de-clutter it and put it in shape to sell. I ended up staying here, in the house of my youth, for a number of practical reasons. But in transplanting myself from Roanoke, I severed most of my social network. I have a few friends with whom I continue to correspond by email and Skype. But most of my friends vanished into their own lives, never to be seen or heard from again.

I’ve always had social anxiety, so I was never a “joiner.” I don’t join clubs. I have no desire to attend church, as my own beliefs are very different from those of the average church-goer.

I have a brother I last saw in 2004. I last spoke with him in 2010 when I called him to tell him of the death of our cousin in Florida. That phone call lasted 30 seconds. I don’t send him email because he doesn’t reply.

I haven’t been to a movie theater since 2008.  I don’t miss it. Most movies are available on the Internet, anyway, if you know where to look. Television bores me, so I don’t have cable. I have Internet, which I find at least as entertaining as the so-called “entertainment” on TV. Other than that, I was alone, living in a silent house with little interaction with my fellow humans. Each day was like the day before and the day after — a monotony broken by occasional visits to a doctor or medical lab. My desire was to get through the remainder of my life as painlessly as possible to whatever conclusion was coming.

Living alone, I developed a drinking habit. For about ten years I was a heavy drinker. When I say “heavy,” I mean that if I went a day without alcohol, I would have hallucinations. They would begin at bedtime on the day I didn’t drink and they would usually be gone by the next morning. Though sometimes they would still be going when I awoke. Some of the hallucinations were mundane, some were interesting, and some were beautiful and exotic. Some made me wish I had a magical camera that could photograph them. But I decided to quit drinking. So I did, in 2020. Though people have offered me alcohol, I haven’t drank any since the day I quit. I don’t miss it and I don’t think about it.

On November 24, 2020, slightly less than three months after I quit drinking alcohol, my Costa Rican partner Nuria visited me for the first time. She had been the wife of my friend Ralph who lived in Costa Rica, and he died on January 19, 2020. I wrote about Ralph in Restless Spirits and again in Angels and Spirits. 

I could have been more, could have done more, could have achieved more, than I have. But I don’t consider my life a failure. I don’t consider anyone’s life a failure. I consider that all of us, every person, good or bad, is here to learn. Life is for learning, and I think there are many realities in which we can learn, and this life is just one of them.

I’ve done a few things in this life. First job at age 13 (paperboy), second job at age 15 (drugstore), third job at age 17 (chemical factory), fourth job at age 19 (e-tech), fifth job at age 21 (engineer, missile guidance), sixth job at age 27 (self-employed), seventh job at age 39 (engineer, mobile robotics). I’ve wrecked a car, which sent me to the ER. I’ve taken flying lessons. I’ve flown an airplane. I went to night school when I was 16. A friend and I built and operated a “pirate” radio station when I was attending university. I’ve nearly killed myself a few times, and I’ve nearly killed others a few times. I’m not proud of those times and I’ve learned from them. In high school I was the school photographer, and in my first year of college I was the school photographer. I was never in the armed forces but I tried my best to get an engineering job with a civilian contractor in Vietnam. There have been times when I should have been killed, but I had a guardian angel looking over me. I am convinced of that, because I’ve been lucky too often to attribute it to chance.

I thank God for allowing me to live this long, and to have opportunities to grow and evolve and mature. If I come back, I hope I can remember the lessons I’ve learned, because I don’t want to repeat some of them.

Now I have Nuria, and I think our relationship might be my final lesson, at least for this lifetime. She is a wonderful person who is liked by everyone who meets her. I will be growing in some way, just by knowing her. Perhaps the same may be said of her knowing me. Time will tell.

Remember: you’re here to learn and to grow. Don’t beat yourself up for your mistakes. Learn from them and let them go.

Until next time—be well.