Terribly Unoriginal

It occurred to me the other day that I am not unique. I suppose in the “Jesus Loves Me”, “pretty little snowflake” sense of it, I am unique, but truly there is nothing that separates me from the rest of the population. I had thought, ignorantly enough at the time, that my thoughts were unique. That I was an original personality living amongst a bunch of carbon copies of some original print that died long ago. Then high school ended, I moved out of my town of 1200 people and I realized that there are very few originals left in the world. Really we’re all just regurgitating what has been bred or brainwashed into us. But, as there is always a but in my world, we can have a unique perspective. That is where I exist.

In my actions and day to day life, I’m a bore. I have a wife and two kids, a dog, a house in a quiet subdivision, I drive a sensible car that I bought for fuel economy, and I work in a cubicle. I pay taxes to a government that I disagree with, take my garbage to the curb, mow my lawn for reasons I don’t understand, wear a tie to work when it’s not required, and think that a great saturday night consists of a good movie, a board game with the kids, and time with my wife. Of course I’m oversimplifying to make a point and my life is interspersed with “adventures” but on paper my life is a bore.

Only it’s not a bore to me. I revel in watching my daughter learn to handle money while playing monopoly, and can barely contain my joy when watching my wife, daughter, and son dance while I play my music, or as we all dance during the closing credits of a great movie. I almost cry every time I tuck my kids in at night and kiss them on the forehead. I really do. It seems like such a waste to go lie unconscious and let 6 good hours pass me by. My quiet little suburban life is anything but boring. I have found this to be the most fascinating and exciting journey of my life.

While reading a story to my daughter in her bed tonight I was overcome. Watching her beautiful face study the pages as I strolled through some happy tale was amazing. For the record, I love my son more than I can possibly believe and feel a very strong bond with him. But (there’s that word again) my daughter and I have always had an inexplicable bond. She is all that is good in me, and we are connected somehow. Even in her young mind I can see her reading people and situations in the same way that I do. She too has a unique outlook on what is truly an ordinary life. She will never see things the way that others see them and, because of that, will be doomed to turn out like me. Unable to understand her peers, and unwilling to justify herself to them.

I suppose I do have a unique quality, and an all too typical claim. I love my daughter more than anyone has ever loved anything. I know this. It actually hurts me to be away from her, ever. People have often asked me (and sometimes criticized me) why I bring my daughter, and now my son, to parties. Why I bring them out to social gatherings that are strictly for adults. Where there is drinking, and adult conversations, etc. Why I let her stay up until 2am on a saturday night. It is because I can’t stand to be away from her. I would rather have her see someone sipping a glass of wine, or drinking a beer, or maybe even hear a profane comment, then to have to be away from her for a second longer than I already have to. Obvious solution would be to stop leaving the house, right? Well, I tried that. For pretty much the first year of my daughters life. Turns out even a hermit like me does need some social interaction. Oh, and I have to go to this pesky thing called a job in order to pay for the house to shut myself within.

One other unique quality, and another terribly unoriginal claim, about me is that I have a wife who is more perfectly suited for me than any other couple has been in the history of this planet. yes, a bold and very ignorant claim. But hey, that’s what the internet is for. Bold and ignorant people, of which I am both, and neither. I am crazy, I am normal, I am intelligent, I am stupid, I am lazy, I am motivated, I am angry, I am happy, I am a million things. My wife is the compliment to each of those things. We are both incapable of understanding those around us, and their actions, and we are both unwilling to justify ourselves and our actions to them. We have recently come to the realization that all of this time, when we were speaking about how weird everyone is. How they do the strangest things, and act in the most foolish of ways, it turns out the mirror was reversed. We are the strange ones, people see us as foolish. We don’t use babysitters, we don’t have bed times, we eat dinner at 10pm if the mood strikes us, we take our children to parties, concerts, bars, and anywhere else that is suitable enough for us. We allowed no one into our hospital room after we had our son, and allowed no visitors for the first month of his life. We are completely devoted to, and in love with one another. That makes us unique. That makes us exciting, original, and the opposite of our seemingly boring “paper” life. Inside of this midwestern state, and inside of this small slow town, inside of this boring cul de sac, inside of our plain typical house, lies something that I have not witnessed in any other couple that I’ve met in my life. We don’t live for ourselves, we live for the other. Our family exists for the others inside of it, not for ourselves.

Someone asked me what will happen with such a dependent relationship when one of us leaves. Whether that is through death or some other means. My wife and I have always maintained that no one knows what life holds. While I believe my wife and I are the best suited couple in history (;)), I am not arrogant enough to believe that I know the future. My wife may find someone that is even BETTER for her than I am tomorrow and be out of my life. What then? What happens if her car is run off of the road and she dies? If I am completely living for her, and she leaves, then what do I live for. That was the question that was posed to me. At the time I believe I simply replied that there would be consequences to that. It wasn’t the proper time or place for the discussion. The true answer is in the question itself. If I live for her, how can I live without her? I live for her.

As usual this has spiraled out of control and I need to end it. I will leave you with a quote. An original by yours truly: “Childbirth produces a child, it does not produce a mother.”

Fathomless Regression
(the rambler)


About fathomlessregression

I am a musician, writer, painter, brother, husband, and father. I have more questions about life than I do answers, and spend the majority of my time exploring the infinite number of possibilities that exist. This is accomplished through my art, music, writing, and most of all through conversation. View all posts by fathomlessregression

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