Being Honest With Fiction

I started reading Fulghum when my Father, The Old Man, was dying in the hospital back in December of 1989. This began when I noticed the book at my The Old Man’s bedside. The book was entitled, All I Need to Know I Already Learned in Kindergarten.
I can say this book was life saving.
I can say this was life changing as well, and while I sat and waited for The Old Man to say goodbye, I began to read the innocent details of a good man’s life.

I do not know the author, Robert Fulghum. I know nothing about his real life or what he eats for breakfast or how he enjoys spending afternoons in the springtime.
But I know enough to realize that at best, we are all human, after all.

I know that we all have a core and that we all have feelings, thoughts, ideas, dreams, and we all have desires, fantasies, and most importantly; we all have a heart.
At least, I think so.
Some might never show their truths. Some people will hide and never have the courage to be brave enough and be themselves.
Some people will lie and never have the dignity to be honest with themselves, let alone the fact that they will never dare to be honest with anyone else.
And yes, I can confess to the charges above.
I have done this too.

We all have a core.
We all have feelings and we all experience pain and heartache. At the same time, there is a special and innocent truth about each and every one of us.
I know this.
I know this in my heart.
I do believe in the inherent goodness of people.

I know that there are parts of me which have been either ruined or spoiled.
I know this all too well.
I know that due to the toxic results that took place between me, and people, places, and things; I have taken damage in more ways than one.
I have scars that no one sees and bruises that are undetectable to the eye.
But I feel them.

I have aches and pains from emotional tensions that were never addressed or resolved. And as such, I have current dilemmas which are the result of thinking errors and inaccurate beliefs that stemmed from bad teachers and poor examples of what love should look like.

I go back to how Fulghum talked about great moments.
He talked about the way he viewed his wife and his family.
He talked about the simple things and he did this without the need to decorate himself.
There were no masks or reasons for him to act tough or impress anyone.

All I need to know I learned in kindergarten, Fulghum says.

And yes. I assume he is right.
I agree.
And I wish life were as simple.
However, we are a complicated sort.
We overthink and overanalyze.

We complicate life.
I agree.

And so now, and for the moment, I think I will take some of this inspiration and switch gears.
I am sitting at a desk, which is not so different from any other desk I’ve sat behind.
I have been a working man for more than 30 years.
I have been coming and going in to a place of business in one form or another for what seems like a lifetime.
I have won friends and influenced people. And yes, I have created a few enemies and at best, I have influenced people to go in another direction.
I have been fired before.
I have somehow managed to maintain my position as a union employee, paid dues, and created a name for myself. I have been at this game since the date when I was sworn in, back in September, 1998.

I have seen great things. I have seen sad things too.
I have seen buildings come up from the ground and reach into the New York City skyline.
I have watched the greatest tradesmen create work that was unthinkable to me.

I was onsite the day when The Towers went down on September 11, 2001.
I watched my city run in fear and one by one, I heard the news of friends of mine who perished when The Twin Towers went down.
This includes my friend, Father Mike, who was casualty #0001.

I watched my City rebuild itself more than once.
I was here to see The Freedom Tower go up.
Men and women built this building.
Union Pride showed this.
I was here to work and make it through the Covid years.
And though I heard news of friends dying and watched businesses sink and go under, somehow, I managed to make it through.

I lost a lot.
I lost more than I ever dreamed I would have.
And yet, I had it and I lost it all.
And that’s fine.

I had love but the love I had was not true and the love I was told about was dishonest as well.
I lived and I learned. And somehow, I am still here.

I cannot say that I have many friends anymore.
I decided to stay to myself.
But more so, I have done this for my own protection.
I had stalkers.
I had fights.
I had court battles.
I had new introductions that turned sour because in my heart, my wounds were too tender. And, so, I had to rebuild again and again, several times over.

There is something to be said about the ability to stand after being knocked down.
There is something to be said about the ability to withstand and endure.
At the same time, I agree that it is good to have heart and it is good to understand the secret to your own endurance.
It’s good to be tough and strong.
But at some point, it’s good to be calm.
It’s good to find your spot or your place where there is no pain, and there is no reason to prove yourself . . .
There has to be a time and a place where we can toss aside all the bullshit – and let the dust settle.

Fulghum talked about reliving moments as they were, without changing a thing.
I cannot say that I have too many times that I would like to relive, exactly as they were.

There’s a breakfast I had in Fort Lauderdale. That was a good one.
And there’s a night I recall in Miami which was absolutely perfect.
And there was a day when I fished for yellowfin tuna.
And there was a shark tournament that did not go so well, but the ride out to sea was so beautiful that my eyes filled with tears.
There was a concert at Jones Beach, which will always go down as one of the best shows I have ever seen in my life.
And there was a walk along the beach that I can remember.
I found a shell, which was beautiful.

I am not where I want to be.
Then again, I am often unsure if I am the person I want to be.
And . . .
like my City and like the fallen friends of mine; I find myself in the need to rise above.
I feel the need to redeem myself, which is not to say that I need to redeem myself for anyone else. I do not need to redeem the quality of old or lost relationships.
No.
I want my life back.
I want the dream.
I want the feeling Fulghum described when he sat in his chair at home, thinking about any gift he could ask for.
Fulghum scanned across the room and noticed his wife; and there it was, the only gift he wanted or needed was his.
Her . . .

I remember when The Old Man died. I was far too young to consider my real life or what the word adulthood meant.
I was too young to know what it means to look at a woman and be so grateful and filled with love that in the moment; I would realize that God has gifted me with an angel.

I can say that I know the most beautiful girl in the world.
I can say that I have seen her at her best and at her worst and no matter the hour of the day, no matter if the weather was hor or cold, sunny or if the storms took over the streets; I still say that I know the most beautiful girl in the world.

I know the sexiest girl in the world.
I know a girl who can change me for the better and for the worst.
I know a girl who changes the way light takes over when she walks in the room.
I know a girl who does not know how beautiful she is to the point where she swears that I am either lying or over-selling my love for her.
But no.
She is the most beautiful girl in the world.

And she is not mine and she might never be all mine.
But I know her.

I do.

I am about to let this go into the Universe and wish I may, wish I might.

I have work to do.
I have people to speak with and assignments to finish.
But more, I have a life and an empire to rebuild because whether I am alone or not; I’m not dead either.
At least, not yet.
One day, I’ll find my spot . . .
But for now, I have work to do
to make it so