Fucking go do it.

That thing you’ve been wanting to do? That you’ve been putting off? Fucking go do it. Make a executable plan, and execute it. Now.
Admittedly, I don’t take my own advice very often. I’m more of a “do as I say, not as I do” kinda guy.

When my Dad was fresh out of trade school in the early 60’s, he worked for Pratt & Whitney as some sort of mechanical engineer or something like that. I don’t exactly know. That’s not the point. Anyway, he had a mentor named…well, let’s call him Peter…who he developed a deep respect for. As I reflect, Peter must have been around the same age as my Dad’s Dad at the time. Drawing a parallel to my own life experiences, my Dad might have seen Peter as a second father. You know, those adults who are the same age as your parents, who tell you the same thing as your parents, but because they AREN’T your parents, you actually listen to them? Yea, it must have been like that.
As I was growing up, I was treated to many stories about how Peter helped my Dad in certain circumstances; how to plan ahead, how to take responsibility, how to grow professionally, etc. You know, Dad stuff. Even though I had never met Peter, I knew that he was a major player in my Dad’s life.
When I was a teen, we learned Peter had also moved to Vermont and was running a small motel he and his family had rebuilt. It wasn’t too far from where we were living, and I think my Dad had taken some time to go see Peter once or twice. Dad often said, “I’d like to take time to go see Peter and see how he’s doing,” but I can’t recall him actually doing it.
Fast forward several years, and I am now working in a hospital as a nurse. One day, Peter was my patient. That one day turned into several days, actually, and I had the opportunity to meet his wife and daughter while they visited Peter. Needing to stay within legal boundaries but wanting to let my Dad know that I had seen his mentor, I simply let my Dad know that, “I saw Peter today at the hospital.” My Dad was happily surprised, and asked if I saw him again, would I please tell Peter “hello” for him? Of course I would. So I did. Come to find out, Peter and his family and I and my family were now living in the same town, just a few miles apart. Peter eventually got well enough to return home, and I havent’ seen him since.
For several years, when my parents came to visit, Dad would ask me to look up Peter’s address because, “I’d like to take some time and go see Peter while we’re in town.” Of course I would. Every time. Peter didn’t move, nor did my Dad ever make it out to see him. Dad would say things like, “I don’t want to impose,” or, “it isn’t likely that he’d remember me anyway, it was so long ago,” and, “we’re only here for a day or so, so I don’t have the time.” fucking do it
This morning I was talking with my Dad about Mom’s surgery (some foot thing), and he said, “Hey, I have a favor to ask, if you have time. Can you please look up Peter’s address? I want to go see him when we’re in town for Christmas.” Of course I would. By now I’d forgotten the address, but I knew that it wasn’t likely that he’d moved. He must be in his 90’s by now, and not many 90 year olds pack up and move, right?
Thanks to google, I was able to locate Peter within nano-seconds. As I suspected, he’s not moving. In fact, he passed away this spring. Now I have to tell my Dad, who’s already stressed out about Mom’s surgery, that his mentor is dead, and that he’ll not be able to go see him when he’s in town this Christmas, or ever, for that matter. I’m not sure how I’m going to do this, I just know that it won’t be today.

That thing that you’ve been wanting to do? That you’ve been putting off? Fucking go do it.

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