Tom was born on a day when the snow fell like a down comforter over the city of Chicago. Was it an omen of things to come, an attempt by the gods to hasten his coming into this world? Probably not, that’s just how the weather can be at the end of March in Chicago. His upbringing was fairly normal, without major incident or anything that left but a few minor scars, most of which, by all outward appearances, time has healed. So what has he become? That is hard to say. A good father, no matter what your definition of good father be, though your definition may keep him from joining the ranks of great, without the benefit of time with which to tell. Beyond this, it becomes more difficult to say. In flux, it could be seen as a midlife crisis through which he is going but in fact his history shows this to only be another day and another period, the results of which are as likely as the last but twice so of the next and where it will end, nobody knows.
Be it stated such: “My dreams and goals have never changed, just meandered here and there, sometimes lacking definition. With this, I am fine. To head straight for a goal may be fine for some but, for me, I am too easily distracted by shiny objects and have stepped this way and that, not keeping me from my goal but rather working to define my goal and understand what it all means; adding so much to my life as to make me think that it was all worth it, the good and the bad all wrapped in to one total experience that makes me who I am today.”
And with this, you are invited to follow along as he chooses to reveal what he will go here. Maybe this is the beginning of greatness or maybe a spiral into something disastrous, who is to say. OK, maybe greatness is a little much to expect, spiraling into disaster is more likely. The only hope is this: continuing to pay my mortgage.