Re: A Book And Its Cover... Reconsidered...
I admire your courage and your honesty in speaking up and baring your soul, so to speak. It takes a good man to admit to past faults, correct them, and then work to improve upon those "dark moments in life." And, such bravery is only compounded when he serves up those lessons as a warning of sorts for others to learn from. You and yours have my utmost respect, and my hopes and prayers for smooth sailing ahead...
Personally, I guess that I've been blessed to have had a fair number of "intervention specialists" throughout my lifetime, men who never failed to step in and "intervene" when they thought me wandering a bit too far from my normally "even-keeled" path in life. They all were men whose thoughts and opinions mattered a great deal to me, and because of them, I was able to avoid many of life's "potholes."
Example. When diagnosed with my first brain tumor while in my mid-40's, I was hurt, angry and resentful, moreso after the surgery to remove the tumor. Suddenly, I had gone from a fully-functional guy who was experiencing headaches and blurred vision to someone who couldn't do the simplest things for himself. Ahead of me was nine or so months of intensive rehab and more challenges than I ever imagined.
Enter the late "Doc" Holship-- my grandfather's lifelong fishing/hunting partner --and my own "Doc"-- my chief oncologist. Together, they came up with a quick solution to my anger and helplessness-- they dared me to "beat the odds" and get better, knowing that I'd re-direct my anger and put it into my rehab, pushing harder than most would consider. "Doc" Holship knew that my grandparents had raised me with a strong work ethic.
I finished my rehab in six months, helped along by my family, my love of fly-tying-- it gave me back my hand-to-eye coordination more quickly --and an anger channeled in a whole new direction. But, cancer still wasn't finished with presenting its challenges, both fiscally and physically.
In late 2004, a second brain tumor rendered me blind until the "miracle surgery" of 2009, when my eyesight was finally restored. Then, as it was in the late 1990's, "Doc" H. and my "Doc" pushed the right buttons, daring me to beat the disease and the limitations of being totally blind again. And, it worked to a great degree, in that my anger at not being able to do this or that was re-directed into figuring out ways to cope and learn a new approach to the "everyday things." The "helpless" feeling was harder to shake, especially for a man-- me --whose way of making a living depended heavily on his sight.
Less than a year after my sight restoration, cancer threw down the gauntlet once more when our youngest daughter was diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia. She passed away in 2010, and her loss still haunts me and mine.
It was a month or so after her funeral that another "intervention specialist" stepped forward, a man I'd known most of my life. The late Montgomery Jackson offered up a heartfelt suggestion that rang true in my grief-- "Mourn the passing of your daughter, but celebrate her life as well..." I hold onto that thought even today...
The bottom line for yours truly is that all of the above is my long-winded way of saying that I've become more curious about most "books" these days, and a heckuva lot less judgmental of their covers. Like any good book and its pages, a man's life is one of "paged" layers. I'm hoping that I'll enjoy the future writings of the man and his two sons, as much as I've come to respect his courage in owning up to any short-comings. It took guts, as did your posting, and I can't help but respect that...
Last edited by hairwing530; 06-11-2013 at 08:18 AM.