To most people, he was a simple man. To those watching him as he progressed through life he didn’t appear to aspire to a lot, and if he did, he kept it to himself.
He wasn’t a man of exceptional talent nor foresight. He just went about doing what he did in the most competent way he knew.
He was one of those men you needed in your team to make up the numbers. His competency was what made him valuable.
I think it was because he wasn’t a stand out that he was able to formulate such inciteful thoughts. He wasn’t burdened by expectation.
He fitted into workplaces, his colleagues found him a man they could rely on, a man who achieved in his own unique way, a breath of fresh air, he was once told.
All that came from his experiences in the school of hard knocks. He learned some tough lessons as he went through life.
Love that went wrong taught him to distrust those who appeared to express some liking for him. He found he stayed out of harm’s way when he stuck to himself.
He thought it one of the miracles of life that he fathered children. Each child a mirror of himself and the older he got, the more he saw himself in the way they responded to life. In a way that flattered him but he was pleased as at least something of himself had rubbed off on them.
Old age bought with it wisdom and he wished he knew as a young man what he knew now. So much of life made sense, so much of life was there to be experienced, and often he knew there was little to no point worrying about it as it most likely was going to happen whether or not you thought it a good idea.
“The infernal regions” he mused as he wrote his response, those places where the past stuck up its ugly head and reminded him of the folly contained within them. But he thought I am who I am, without the past where would I be today.