The optometrist tells me my sight has weakened. I tell him that may be the case but my vision has improved. He is young, he looks at me and ponders.
I observe the world around me with fascination. Sometimes I may think too much. Is this possible? Maybe, if it keeps you from getting enough sleep.
Do you have children? What is your parenting style? I pay attention to my friends and people in general where their parenting is concerned. I don't have children, but the subject interests me.
I'm curious about their parenting skills. How they interact with their children. How they discipline them, how they love them or, sadly, how they do not.
Sometime in life there are episodes that you just don't understand. Events affect you to a degree you can't comprehend. Incidents that impact a life profoundly for years.
I have lived a number of years now. I seek knowledge and wisdom, I have for years. Learning is important. Reflection, I feel, is equally important. Deciding what to reflect on may take an accumulation of wisdom.
One day I realized it was time to take a journey back. There was something I needed to figure out. I wasn't really sure what that was until I got there and looked around a bit.
When I was 8 going on 9 years old we had a dog. His name was Rusty. We got him as a puppy. He was mostly a golden lab with some other stuff thrown in. He came from the pound. I spent hours outdoors, playing with my friend Rusty.
One day, a day just like any other day, we were playing in the front yard. We were racing each other from the front of the house to the road. One time we raced and the car was coming. I stopped and Rusty did not.
I stood watching in horror as the car rolled over my friend. Rusty just lay there mutilated and panting, blood bubbling from his nose. I just stood there, speechless.
Somehow the entire neighborhood was standing there. Jack from next door said there was no hope. He got his revolver and I went to the house. I never saw Rusty again.
He was trained to stay off of the road, don't chase cars. I was trained not to step in front of cars. A subtle difference that I wasn't smart enough to understand.
I had all of the emotions flowing you would expect from an 8 year old. I was more terrified than I can possibly describe. Completely inconsolable.
My father was a strict but fair man. He never spanked or beat us. His punishments always fit the crime. He had a degree in psychology.
Nobody had seen the incident. The man driving the car had said "he just came out of nowhere".
I had lied in the past and gotten away with it. I had lied in the past and been caught. The punishment was more severe on those when you lied. I was typically defiant during my particular punishments.
I had been indignant through most of my crimes. I was always asking why not? Sometimes a good answer sometimes not. I was stubborn and pigheaded. I thought they just had silly rules or the tasks were insignificant. Conversely I would say, " Ok, I screwed up, I won't do it again", still the punishment.
I couldn't imagine what my punishment would be for murder.
I became even more terrified than ever before.
Now I had killed a Friend and Lied about it.
How worse a human could I be?
My lack of punishment became a burden for me.
It is ironic to see how obvious the next fact is. I started having trouble in school. My parents were baffled. I had never had problems before. They were always fair with us and supported us in any way possible. They supported me through this rough time, though they didn't know what my "problem" was. I didn't know what my problem was.
I lived with the guilt and the fear until it slowly moved from my conscious to sub-conscious. I could have gone in a number of directions. I think only having a solid ethical upbringing saved me.
I became repentant. To this day I try not to do anything that will leave me with a guilty conscious.
The memory of Rusty eventually faded.
The main thing I was left with was a fear of my father. I can look back now and see that it was unfounded. He WAS always fair to me and to the girls. Sure he was no saint, he did have a lot of his generations attitudes about stuff, he was real, he was human. I lived in a strange unfounded fear all of my own making because I had lied.
I can wonder how my life might have been different had I just been honest that day or a little smarter. It makes no difference. We lay in the bed we make.
It did make me a deeper, more thoughtful and aware person. I can be grateful for that.
My biggest regret is how it affected my relationship with my father for the rest of the years I lived with my family. I just didn't comprehend how much of an impact that single incident was for me. I am eternally grateful that we became good friends later in life.
Now I understand the profound effects that fear can foster on an 8 year old. If left unaddressed it will just lie there and fester, like an old wound that won't heal. When properly addressed it becomes merely another scar on the soul.
I'm certain that this fear has affected many relationships I have had with people over the years. Since that day I have had this realization that my perception of reality has shifted slightly.
The World became wonderful, once again.
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Love
February 2008 
Steve
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