Photo by Karsten Winegeart on Unsplash
I’ve worn many hats in the course of my 70 years on this lovely rock. I am a husband, father, and grandfather. A brother, an uncle and, at times, a grumpy old neighbor. A carpenter, a contractor and renaissance man. A pacifist and mellowed out boomer. A businessman, designer, and jack of all trades. A writer, wannabe author and lover of wisdom.
Before I was born, a century’s old religious dogma had already defined my existence. Little room remained for personal choice. The last decade’s been all about personal choice.
It was difficult as a dreamer to find my niche while shackled. I imagined a career in the Navy, submarines or fighter pilot, both got my adrenaline up. Medicine too, thoracic surgeon, or ER doc. I feared a boring existence, yearning to be challenged. When I waxed philosophical, staring at the heavens, I could see myself as a backwoods forest ranger. I enjoyed living in my own head, sorting dreams and life’s largess. My family’s two generation foothold in a protestant clone denied any of these pursuits.
During the Vietnam conflict, my deferments disappeared before the war ended. I received a draft notice and a date to appear for a physical. Those of us called up at that stage, were all excused when it ended. I was lucky.
I discovered, in middle school, I had an affinity for woodworking. Community college aptitude testing suggested engineering as a career. I combined both to become an industrial patternmaker. I learned to design and build wood patterns for the foundry industry. And, I bought my employer’s company, retooling it with the latest computer aided technology. The skills I learned overlapped with my creative side, providing a life filled with projects I both designed and built with my own hands.
I left college without a degree, eager to start a family, and found my secular niche. The church ordained me a half-year after marrying the girl of my dreams. She still lights up my world.
Our four children inherited our combined love and talents, the crown of our union. Each gifted and industrious.
Religious dogma, three generations strong, permeated every aspect of my first 50 years. No area of my life escaped its influence. In my 30s, a significant mentor changed my world. Combined with the loss of my brother, and like the infamous butterfly effect, my course rerouted.. It was enough to help me escape my religious cave.
Storytelling has become my latest hobby, and I continue wrestling with my memoir. The unexpected twist in that pursuit was reliving my most challenging struggles as a minister. After letting it rest, I’m back to editing and shaping.