CHILDREN OF A GENERATION
There is not much time left. The few remains of an old system and the old world are fading out. What we 30’s and up me knew growing up has changed. It has given way to a world that none of us ever thought we would see. A divide that my generation and the one before me worked so hard to close the gap on seems to have been opened back up.
This system of complaining that has overtaken the next generation had worked its way into our generations as well. I see more and more people complaining or just shutting off too our culture, which is doing nothing to help the situation.
It is no secret that I blame our fall on men. Weak men. Absent men. Our fathers and even our grandfathers. Take my grandfather, for instance. He was a hard-working man that placed providing for his family above all else. Now there is nothing to fault him for here, but his particular job took him away from home for weeks at a time.
Many will argue with me on this point, but that is still being an absent father. My dad was raised by his mom and his aunt. My dad is a weak man in the realm of masculinity. I love my dad and respect him, but he isn’t an example of ideal masculinity.
My dad tells me stories about his childhood quite often; my grandfather is never in any of the stories. As a matter of fact, any story that has ever included my grandfather was about how he would spank my dad and his brother and sister whenever he got home from the road. My dad told me that growing up; he was scared of his dad because when he pulled in the driveway, my dad knew the first thing when he walked in the door was a spanking for something my grandmother told him about.
My grandfather never took them fishing, hiking, to the park, or anything involving the children. He worked two weeks at a time on the road, came home for two days, and left for two weeks again. He was a construction worker. When he was home, my dad said all he did was watch tv and go visit his friends.
I love my grandfather, and he gave me a lot of good advice when I was growing up. He spent time with me when I was little and taught me what I know about carpentry. I almost feel as if he tried to make up for his absence with his own kids by being there more for his grandkids. My grandpa died when I was 11.
Before my dad skipped town when I was 12, my childhood was one of a lot of attention from my dad—his attempt to do better than his father.
While noble, it taught me nothing. I was never disciplined because he was always disciplined. I had my dad’s full attention, even when I did not want it. He more than made up for this when he left the state. I did not see my dad for four years. Then he made a promise to me to come to my graduation the following year. He never showed. I did not talk to him again for two years, and only then it was because my mom had died.
My dad commented to me the other day, and my response hurt his feelings. Y’all know how blunt I can be. He said that I reminded him of my uncle Bill. My moms’ brother. My response was, well, he’s the one that I spent my teenage years around. My response wasn’t intended to hurt feelings, but I can see how it affected him.
My uncle never had kids. He treated me as his own son, and even now, years after his death, I tell everyone he is my favorite family member. He taught me how to hunt, hike, camp, survival techniques, how to reload ammunition, how to shoot, and a whole host of other things.
I would think it is fair to say that he was instrumental in shaping me into what I am today. There is a lesson here that I would never tell my dad, but in a way, I became my uncle’s legacy. Not having his own son to do it, and me having taken on his personality and moral views.
In a way, my uncle broke a cycle. There is no telling who I would have turned out to be. And this carried on to my own stepsons. Abandoned by their dad when they were little. Actually, he was already gone before the youngest was even born. Abandoned in the womb is terrible. My oldest boy just turned 18, and for those that do not follow me on Twitter, this means I finally get to adopt him. I have often sat and thought about how much they have my uncle to thank for what they consider a blessing.
Without him, I probably wouldn’t have the fortitude and desire to do what someone did for me.
Now it is on all of us to see what is going on around us a steer our sons and daughters on the path to correct it. I actually see hope in our children. I have seen things online where the teens seem to be leaning away from the current narrative. I watched a video just today of a 10-year-old giving a speech about the nonsense going on in schools, directly calling out the hypocrisy.
There is hope for the future, gentlemen. The hope is in our children, and it is up to us to encourage it. To raise them up with a proper mentality and with proper morals. It is our duty to foster the future of our grandchildren in our children.
Questions or Thoughts? Leave them in the comments.
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