I don't mind being a lovelorn fool.

I tell my son Jack that it’s pretty much his fault. That is, if his life doesn’t turn out the way he wants it to turn out. That he’s gotta work harder. That he needs more patience. More endurance. More commitment. That he shouldn’t blame other people. Not even his father. For his failures. I try to set the example. By not blaming myself for my life. Instead, I take the credit. Or the blame. If things go wrong. Some people try to tell Jack that nothing is his fault. That it’s society. Or other people that are to blame. Or for that matter, credit. If he happens to succeed. Jack, I say, it’s your life. You make the choices. Daily. And moment to moment. You’ve made some stupid mistakes. But you’ve also learned from some of ‘em. And therefore, they no longer are mistakes. You’ve made corrections. In midstream. You deserve plaudits. But you also deserve criticism when you make mistake after mistake after mistake. Repeatedly. When you never learn. I happen to make mistakes every day. Haven’t lived a mistake-free day yet. But I’m not gonna blame mother or dad or my sister or brother or son or daughter, not even god, for any of ‘em. They were my mistakes. Totally. Sometimes, very stupid mistakes. And on occasion mistakes that I keep repeating. As if I never learn. Makes me seem like a full-fledged idiot. An ass. A nincompoop. A fool. But that’s my fault, Jack. Not yours. Fact of the matter is that I don’t mind being all of these things. Even a crazy fool. Especially when I’m in love. With someone. And with life. –Jim Broede