The Invisible Mentor

I am sure that I could learn from you if only I knew you. If we started talking, in less than a minute I’m sure that we would find common ground. So what’s your story?
 
I have learned from and about people by reading what they have written. I have used the words of others as Invisible Mentors. Countless times I have stood on the shoulders of others, and I am sure that others have stood on my shoulders. We all have a responsibility to help each other because no one ever succeeds alone.

I subscribe to Chris Brogan’s Blog, and each week I learn something new from him. Chris is one of the people who has reminded me of the importance of giving – my mom first taught me that lesson. When I started this blog, I relied heavily on the information from Chris’ blog posts. And, I also relied on help from my followers on Twitter who willingly came to the rescue when I was stuck (Luke Rumley, Michael Bailey, WordPress Answers, Sunny Lam, Sherice Jacob).

Here’s a link to a blog post from Chris that I found useful, and I constantly go down the list as I strive to improve The Invisible Mentor Blog. Perhaps you will find it useful as well. Presently, I am participating in Darren Rowse’s 31-Day Challenge (31DBBB) to help me become a better blogger. After reading information at this link, for Day 8 of the Challenge, I went back to old posts and created Interlinks.

I connect with people, and in so doing, not only do I get to know them, but I also learn from them, and I hope that they learn from me as well. I would like to share a poem I wrote about my father as a way of sharing one of my stories with you. What kind of relationship do you, or did you have with your father?

A Daughter’s Farewell

I can’t remember you ever hugging me.
I can’t remember you telling me you loved me.
I can’t remember you kissing me.
But I clearly remember you criticizing me,
Leaving me, even when I was scared.
You weren’t there, even when you were there.
You were emotionally distant.
Sometimes I wonder if you were a figment of my imagination.
You must have been real, because you were my father.
The battle within me rages because I was invisible to you.
I no longer want to be invisible.
I want to be a real person to you.
Just once I would like you to tell me how you feel about me.
Just once, I would like to hear you say “I love you”.
Just once, I would like to feel your arms around me.
But you can’t really do that, can you?
You died before I got to know you.
You died without asking for my forgiveness.
You died before I forgave you.
I try to make sense of it all,
All the wasted moments, all the wasted years,
Both of us waiting for the other to extend a hand, a forgiving hand.
Our stubbornness got in the way, and now you’re gone.
If I got one more chance to see you again, what would I do?
Would I hug you?
If I got one more chance to see you again, what would I say?
Would I tell you I love you?
If I got one more chance to see you again, could I forget past hurts?
Could I forgive you?
Since I do not have the chance to see you again, I say,
“Farewell my father, rest in peace knowing that I love you.
Farewell my father, your daughter has finally found peace.”

Can you relate to A Daughter’s Farewell? Again I ask, what’s your story?

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