Rarely do I feel intense about anything. If asked how I’m doing, my typical reply is “Fantastic. My life is fantastic and I’m doing fantastic.“
That’s generally the case. But the real truth is more like, “I’m fine. Life is fine and I’m feeling fine.“
I’ve always been a fairly even keeled guy. Since my wife died, I’ve become even moreso. I experience few high highs and even fewer low lows. I don’t get extremely happy or sad. I don’t get excessively angry – just somewhat frustrated. I’m almost never afraid.
I think it is because I don’t care much about most things anymore.
I suppose that could be considered sad. But I don’t feel sad. I feel content.
If I was very close to someone – romantically or even socially – I think I’d have more highs and lows. I felt some of this when dating.
What prompted my thoughts on this was an email I received from my half sister about her father (also my father). He’s had a number of serious health issues in recent years. She said she didn’t want to upset me so she hasn’t kept me up-to-date with all the details.
She’s a good kid – she’s thoughtful, considerate and kind. She loves her mother and father. They are a very close family.
But I’ve never been part of it. My father left when I was 5. We have no relationship.
So while I feel compassion for his wife and his daughter, I feel quite distanced from my father. He is a stranger to me.
It’s been this way for nearly 50 years.
And while the news is not good, it doesn’t upset me. Very little does anymore.