Posted:Wed Dec 24, 2008 10:27 PM CST
Who is the most Influential Person in My Life?
This is an old blog from a very long time ago when I was someone else. I think that this time of year, many of us feel lonely, ignored, and even a little afraid--but what we really want in life, and out of places like CS is a feeling of connection. On any level. Be it friendship, discussions, or flirting. It's a connection we all yearn for, and it's the connection with people that helps us make it to tomorrow.
Here it is, hope it helps....
Who Is The Most Influential Person In My Life?
I have lived a relatively short life. When I slowly turn my gaze to the path that has been, I am forced to squint at a hazy jumble of experiences and individuals long gone. I am conscious of these elemets that have made me. To a degree, I know I am a child of that soup left behind me. To try annd measure to what extent certain elements have defined me would be an irrelevant and impossible assessment. I am a cumilative product, and being such, separating influence from influence cannot be done. However, in that always growing, ever-present soup, I see someone who has played a vital role in shaping me.
This person is someone who my eyes only know by fading pictures hanging against fading wall paper of a fading house. I ave heard his voice only through the voices f others. Sincere, affectionate mediums, yet, they can never really become what they desire. I have never talked to this individual; I have only heard talk OF him. I have never known this individual; Ihave only known OF him. This individual, is a person I have never met.
This person is my grandpa. He died when my mom was young. I never met him. I was born a decade or two too late. I really can't recall the day I noticed he was missing, he just kind of always was. I remember when I was very young, I told my mom that one night I talked to him. I can't remember what I said, or what he said. All I can remember is that I THOUGHT I talked with him. Who knows if I really did. I might have. I might not have. But regardless, I believed I talked with him.
I did not know it then, but on some level, I was trying to relate to him--whether he was present or not. Having a conversation with him, or at least perceiving such, allowed me to try and foster a connection with someone that I was physically unconnected with. Looking back on my conversation, I see myself as a child, desparately trying to connect with someone of utmost importance. I was trying to connect with someone who was a seemingly infinite distance away from me. I reached for a place so distant that connection seemed impossible. I was met with a gap so wide no bridge could cross it. I was shouting at a wall so thick, it seemed no voice can break through it. But despite all this, I still tried to connect.
And to a point, I did connect. My grandpa was transformed from a distant, abstract someTHING, to an immediate, real, someBODY. I was able to throw a tether across that vast crevasse filled with void. I tugged the teher-and someone might have tugged it back.
Who was tugging back-me or him-is completely irrelevent. The fact is that on some level there was a relationship. Whether it was a relationship existing within some transcendent world, or existing within my own mind, the fact remains the same, I had a relationship ith him. I was connected with him.
So what did my grandpa teach me? He taught me that the impenetrable walls that exist between two people are far from impenetrable. There is no greater wall that that which exists between life and death, and we were able to break through it. He taught me that between two people, the infinite void is not infinite. It is not a void. All one has to do is cast a tether into that illusionary nothingness, and it will undoubtedly find ground.
He taught me that in a disconnected world, we are all yearning to connect.
That's how my Grandpa influenced me.
And I love him for it.