End Stage

Sarah’s heart felt heavy today, heavier than it had ever felt and the weight inside her was overwhelming.  It felt like winter inside her, a snow laden roof covering her spirit.  She wasn’t sure if she had the energy to face the day and wanted to climb back under the covers shielding herself from the pain and the chill inside her.  There would be no fire today, lit under her to carry her through the day, only pain and sadness.  The question was not how to deal with it, but if she could.

Time had not been nice to Sarah, it ticked away fast and harsh, each second of every moment now drowning out the sound of her own heart.  She knew it was beating, she could feel the pain of its pulse within her chest and yet she tried to ignore it and the warning signs that came with it.  She had been trying to do so since her youth, trying to understand why so much overwhelmed her, made her retreat into herself; she was never able to.  In those times she found comfort under the covers or under her bed when she was small enough to fit.  Crawling under the bed was no longer an option for her and yet she longed for the darkness, for the hardened wood floor beneath her bones.  She wanted her body to feel the pain that was in her heart.

Tony had packed his bags the night before, telling her that he was leaving as she walked through the door from work.  It had already been a stressful day, her boss was on her back and she was struggling to keep up with the tasks she had been assigned.  She felt as if she was losing her grip on reality and all that she had worked towards.  Tony’s announcement was just another stick to the pin cushion that had become her life.  One more painful prick, but this one was another one to her heart and one that she couldn’t bear.  She knew she loved him, that she always would, he had captured her heart and made the world a better place to be in, to breathe in.  He was tender with her in all the ways that mattered and he made her feel special.  She wasn’t sure what had happened and why he was leaving, she was blindsided by it all, by the look on his face. 

He had become stone cold towards her and she wasn’t sure why.  There had been times that they had argued, Tony had a temper and she was withdrawn at times, but she always thought that they had resolved things.  Sarah thought that at least until the next argument when the old issues would resurface, leaving her wondering if she was oblivious to the world, inadequate and ignorant.  Maybe she had always felt that way, inadequate and ignorant, maybe it stemmed from her youth, the times when her parents would argue and she couldn’t stop them, or maybe it was just what it was and she was too free with forgiveness and too easily convinced that she could be loved.  Still, his face had said it all, Tony didn’t need words, didn’t need to tell her that the love she thought she had found didn’t exist, for she saw it on his face.  Sarah knew then that she still loved him, and that to show that she needed to let him go for that was what he wanted and that was what Tony thought he needed to do in order to find happiness.  Sarah has always and only wanted Tony to be happy.

Sarah stood there, speechless and unable to catch herself.  Tony’s announcement was all of the words that needed to be said.  She knew that she couldn’t convince him to stay, that his mind was made up.  She just watched him, longing to put her arms around him, to have him hold her, for things to be the way they were in the beginning, but she knew that was not possible, that she couldn’t turn back the clock and make him love her like that again.  She knew that there would be no kiss good-bye this time, that there would be no hug or a proclamation of love.  Her longing would not be filled, her desires not quenched and her passion for this man extinguished as soon as he walked through the door.

She knew where he was going, he would be home, the place that had always been there for him.  He felt a comfort there and a sense of familiarity that she could never give him.  That house, his home was filled with memories that she couldn’t replace.  Love, she realized, was not a replacement for memories as strong as those.  It could not fill the gaps, or heal the wounds.  Sarah ran to the window and watched as he walked down the sidewalk, tears streaming down her face now as the taxi he had called pulled up.  The big yellow car was taking him away, to another place and time, a place that she could never go.  As she watched it pull away she saw the irony in it all, her struggles to find herself and to know true love.  He had been her sunshine, the bright spot in her life and now he was leaving in a big bright yellow car, taking with him her heart tucked away in one of his bags where it would remain hidden in the darkness forever.  Sarah wept at that moment, wept like she had never done before and she knew that life would never be the same.

"There is a beginning, a middle and an end to everything in life.  If we love fully, with every fiber in our being we will never be able to distinguish the parts of the whole." (me 2015)

 

 

The Daughter

 

 

            She remembers the day her daughter was born; she was such a beautiful little creature, her head full of little blonde ringlets and an angelic rosy face, perfect in every way.  It was such a happy day and yet filled with a sense of something missing.  She knew what it was that was missing, she felt it and it was strong within her, that feeling of absence; the one that a daughter knows at that moment she yearns to share with her own mother the birth of her child.  But her mother wasn’t there, they had been estranged for years and the weight lay heavy upon her as she cradled her infant in her arms.

            There wasn’t much that she could do to change what was and so she began the task of raising her daughter.  She was her third child so it was old hat to her by this point, the act of being a mom, the endless diaper changes and late night feedings, but still she missed that first bond that a mother shares with her daughter when she gives birth.  Many times she wanted to pick up the phone and call her mother, to invite her over to see the new bundle of joy; she never did because she knew what would become of it, the hassles that would ensue within her marriage and the turmoil in her life.  She hated turmoil and so she existed within the status quo that was her surroundings.

            The days turned to weeks and weeks into months and years.  Time didn’t stand still for her yearnings and her children began to grow up, get older and yet her mother was not there to see them mature or to know what they had become, she needed her there; wanted her near to hold and nurture her children.  It saddened her so and she missed her mother in her life and that of her children as she watched them reach the milestones that they all do, the piano lessons and recitals, the graduations from high school.  She had raised four children all together and there was always this feeling that they had been shortchanged, that they had missed something; an extended family a group of people that would love them unconditionally and be a safety net for them.  She knew that the choices that she had made had been the catalyst for what their lives were and though she wanted to take responsibility for those choices she wasn’t sure how to do so.

            Months and years turned to decades and she knew that her turmoil with her own mother was partly due to her father and that she had taken sides in her parents’ struggles, which while she shouldn’t have been placed in that position she had willingly walked into it.  She also knew that her own marriage, her desire to keep her children with their father had played a rather large roll in not reaching out to her mother and mending fences.  Her husband, the father of her children had an uncontrollable disdain for her mother and any contact would have caused a war within her home and so she kept quiet, remained silent about her own needs.  Her silence was a part of who she was, she withdrew from the things that her heart needed in favor of those that she loved, those that she brought into the world.

            It would be years before she would break her silence and stand up for what she knew she needed what she wanted out of her own life.  It would be too late to mend the fences with her own mother, but her conviction and determination would cause a repeat of her past, and the past of her own mother.  The repetition would be resounding and difficult for her to comprehend in some ways and yet so familiar it would frighten her to the point of nightmares, always wondering what the final outcome would be for that beautiful little girl that was her third child, the baby that she craved so much.

            It would be a familiar scene for her as she embarked on her own path, one that included a divorce, a sense of freedom and loss.  She tried to keep the relationship with her child, but that little girl had, not unlike herself, always been a daddy’s girl.  That relationship would ultimately determine how she related to her child, how far she could trust her and prove to be what would separate them.  It would come at a great cost for both of them, the child and the mother, for the daughter that she had given birth to was now a mother herself and there was a longing for her to hold those grandchildren, to love them.  She thought about her own mother in those moments when she couldn’t fulfill the need to hold her grandchildren and it saddened her to think that she had inflicted pain on the person that had raised her and loved her.  She understood better now than she ever had what she had done by not picking up the phone and calling her own mother.

            She waited for the call, the communication from her child and wondered if she could deal with the pain of the call, how to address the hurt and if she could ever just accept it and move forward.  She wasn’t sure that she could, if she knew how or if she should just protect herself from it all.  And then, there came the text message announcing the birth of her daughter’s third child.  It was an announcement that was filled with pain and remorse for it was an announcement that brought with it the fleeting memories of the birth of her daughter so many years before.  Memories of the loss of a mother, of a relationship that she wouldn’t have the time to recapture or the opportunity to set right before her mother left this world.  She knew that her own child was, in an odd coincidence of fate, taking the same path that she had with her own mother and the familiarities frightened her.

 

"To my mother, who left too early.  Happy Birthday, I love and miss you.  I hope that you can see these words and that you hear my message."  (me 2015)

The Music is Yours Mom

 

 

 

Sissy's Flight

Sissy arrived at the airport early, she hated flying and was really nervous about arriving at her destination in one piece; both physically and emotionally. The past week had been rough for her, she had booked this flight just yesterday and even as she laid her head on the pillow last night she wasn't sure it was the right thing to do. 

 

The night was long for Sissy, she tossed and turned, even waking up in a cold sweat after having one of those dreams, the kind that make you question reality and just where you are. She had argued with Jayme again right before she went to sleep, the same kind of argument that they had been having for the last year and a half. Sissy thought that maybe she shouldn't go, maybe she should just give up and hang up on their relationship the way he had hung up on her last night.

 

It was just the week before he had taken off for New York while she was sleeping.  It was another one of his insecurities that made him run and Sissy, in response to his running again, refused to talk to him. She was too hurt, too angry and she knew that if she spoke to him her resolve would crumble; she would let him back into her heart. She knew this because it was what had been happening for the last six months. Jayme would get upset over something silly and he would run, but this last time was very different, so different in fact that Sissy didn't know if she could or would get past it.

 

Their initial conversation this time was nothing more than screaming. Sissy felt frustrated, more than normal, and she needed to be heard. That was Jayme's downside; his ears were always obscured by his mouth. It was impossible for him to hear Sissy when all he did was talk. It seemed like he was so obsessed with getting respect for himself that he forgot that it had to be given to be received. Sissy certainly didn't feel as if Jayme respected her, most of the time she felt like his chattel.

 

There was a moment as she walked through the passageway to board the plane that Sissy thought about turning around, going back to her car and just going home. She glanced over her shoulder to see how many people she would have to cut through to get back to the terminal. She hung on to the railing that ran the length of the passage, took a deep breath and steadied herself, thinking that one deep breath would get her on the plane. The other passengers that were boarding the flight passing her by, some just glancing in her direction while others looked through her. She was in Zone 1 on this leg of the flight and she knew she needed to decide quickly, so Sissy forced the courage to pick up her feet and place them one in front of the other.

 

Once on the plane Sissy sat down and stowed her carry on under the seat in front of her, it was all she brought with her this time. That one small bag contained nothing more than the bare necessities. In part she thought that her choice of luggage had signaled what her mind had already decided, and yet she hung on to hope. She hoped that there would be more change in their relationship than what she had packed in that small carry on. Her first flight to New York had been very different, she had over packed, was prepared for all the possibilities the relationship might hold. This was a bag of uncertainty, a quick escape bag if need be.

 

Fastening her seat belt tightly, she again thought back to the first flight to New York to meet Jayme. It seemed like eons ago, but it was just a little over two years prior. She was full of excitement and anticipation that day, looking forward to meeting Jayme after having spent weeks and endless hours talking to him over the phone. This time was different and Jayme was different, she was even different, but yet they were still the people that they had been in the beginning. She began to think about all the things that had happened this past year and how the difference in Jayme had begun to affect her self-esteem.

 

Sissy wanted familiarity in her life, she needed consistency and she had none of that with Jayme. One minute he was loving and caring and the next he was a screaming loon. The things that angered him were things that Sissy didn't see or feel and she didn't understand where they came from. Her time with Jayme included such isolation from the world. Most days she didn't want to leave her house because she worried that they would fight. In some ways this suited her fine since she was a homebody, but there were times that it annoyed her. 

 

Annoyance became somewhat the hallmark of Sissy's face. People often commented that she seemed tired or as if she wasn't feeling well. One excuse after another would come from her lips, maybe because if she uttered the words, let them cross her lips it would be like lava erupting from a volcano, burning and destroying everything in its path. Sissy knew that she would just tuck her feelings into her pocket and keep them there hidden from the world, she knew that on the outside she would continue to be the clown, entertaining those around her while all the while she was boiling inside.

 

The boiling emotions inside of Sissy wouldn't ease up this day for she had a lot of things to think about, including changing planes. She knew she had another chance to back out, that her connecting flight was at an airport just three hours from home. She could rent a car there and drive home if she needed to and that gave her some comfort. Jayme had promised her that he would not yell or accuse her if she came, that he missed her and he wanted their relationship to work. Sissy wanted desperately to believe him because she loved him.   What didn't give her comfort were Jayme's promises, she knew, from their past, that they were just words. Things he would say but wouldn't be able to follow through on. 

 

As the first leg of her flight ended Sissy worried that she wouldn't make the connection. She had broken her foot a few weeks earlier and was still hobbled by the pain and her connecting flight was scheduled to leave in less than a half of an hour. She felt certain that missing that flight would be a sign, one that would tell her to go home. Sissy looked for signs in everything, something that would move her in a certain direction.   She had been on the last seat on this flight and thought that it had represented her relationship with Jayme, that she had always taken a back seat to the pain in his life, that no matter how much she loved him or how hard she tried to please him it wasn't enough to cure his pain. So, Sissy waited for all the passengers to disembark from the flight, just as she had waited for Jayme to see her for who she was, so that she could make a mad dash for her connection.

 

Sissy had felt so connected to Jayme when they first met; just like the two flights she was to take that day. It was a connection that would bring them together. Their lives had been similar and yet very different, but they were lives that led them down a path that would bring them together. She wanted to be together with Jayme, the way they were in the beginning, to have that passion again, to have him adore her and for her adoration of him to continue. She thought about the fear of missing her connection again and for a brief moment, as she hobbled towards her terminal, she thought about Jayme and how he must feel somewhat like she did at that moment, fearful that if he did not control her actions that he would miss his emotional connection to her.

 

Sissy had texted Jayme when the first leg of her flight landed and let him know that she was rushing to make the connection. She knew that she needed to make contact with him as soon as she figured out if she would be able to get onto her flight. She had zigzagged through the airport narrowly avoiding being run over by a transit car, taking escalators and walkways to make it on time. As she reached the gate they were already boarding the flight and her zone was being called. She knew she had made it, and for a split second she thought about just sitting down and letting the plane take off. She was out of breath, her foot hurt and she was an emotional wreck. Ultimately, it was the thought of Jayme holding her that pushed her feet forward as she showed her boarding pass.

 

Again, Sissy was in the back of the plane, a place she had now gotten used to, but at least she was on a larger flight on this leg of her journey and there wouldn't be another passenger overflowing into her seat, something she hated even though she was thin, she just didn’t like other people to infringe into her space.  She leaned up against the window, peering out into the abyss of her own thoughts. Tears wanted to come to her and she held them back, they were tears of fear and frustration. She didn't know how this would all pan out for her, their relationship or Jayme. And though he didn't believe it, she loved him and was concerned for him. His temper and anxiety were rooted deeply in his soul, at first her love seemed to make him happy, but something had changed in him.  His happiness seemed to be overshadowed by thoughts that she could not control or change and it scared her for him and for their relationship.

 

She sat there quiet throughout the entire flight, only glancing over briefly at the elderly couple sitting next to her and noticed that the gentleman was holding his wife's hand. That small act of reassurance sent her further into her own pain and memories of how Jayme had been like that in the beginning. She longed for that tenderness in him again, that side of him that was about the love. There had been so much anger between them and she was hurt beyond any hurt she had known before. It was hard for her to see past that, past the accusations Jayme had made. He had promised her that if she got on this flight that things would be different and that he wouldn't argue. She wanted so badly to believe him, but her experiences told her that his pain, his past and all the hurt he had felt wouldn't allow him to keep his promise to her.  Her love for him drove her this time, it overshadowed her fears and it gave her hope for she truly wanted to believe in him. She wanted to believe that, as he had told her, they could get past this.

 

Her trust was starting to trail off, and Sissy knew that in her heart; she knew that Jayme could only contain himself for so long. As the pilot announced the impending landing Sissy looked out the window, trying to find a familiar landmark in order to get her bearings, set her mind straight. She struggled to see something, anything that would give her peace of mind, the ability to relax. She couldn't find anything and the apprehension grew inside of her to the point that she felt sick to her stomach. Her heart began to pound as the wheels of the plane hit the ground and then a sense of relief as the pilot announced a brief delay in getting to the gate. Sissy longed to see Jayme, to feel his lips against hers and to know his love, but the fear inside overwhelmed that desire.

 

As the plane slowly approached the gate the pilot announced that passengers could use their phones. Quickly, Sissy turned on her phone and shot a text to Jayme saying she was on the ground, but he already knew that, he had been waiting for her, watching the leader boards for information about the flight. That was the Jayme she knew and loved, the man that was full of anticipation and hope. She thought back to a time he had told her that he slept with hope and faith and she had jokingly laughed and asked him if it had been at the same time. The thought of that day washed the apprehension away from Sissy, for it was on that day that Jayme had given her the most passionate kiss of her life. The thought of sharing another kiss like that with him, to feel his soul and heart fill hers again was all she wanted from him. 

 

Sissy's apprehension began to give way to anticipation, longing to see the man that she adored. Her worries, as she exited the plane and walked through the terminal, we're diminishing with every step she took.  She finally reached the top of the escalator, a place she was vaguely familiar with as it had been from that place nearly two years ago that she first laid eyes on Jayme. She remembered thinking then how handsome he was, how his beautiful heart had come through to his external being. Today, as she stood atop the perch of the escalator she had that same feeling, she knew why she loved him and she knew that she missed him. He smiled at her as he caught her coming down to him and she at him as she was descending once again into his arms. And just as she had two years prior, Sissy felt as if the wings of her angel were wrapped around her, shielding her from the world.

 

Thank you Chris Pierce for the music.

 

 

 

"The times that our emotional gas tanks run empty are the times when we have no explanation for the things that just are."  (me 2015) 

A Love Like No Other

 

 

It was cold and Misty felt the chill in her bones as she laid there in her bed alone.  She reached down and gently pulled up the extra blanket that rested at the foot of the bed for nights just like these.  That blanket only offered her minimal comfort as it wasn’t what she really longed for or needed and it surely hadn’t comforted the emotions inside of her that flowed out in tears.  She knew that there wasn’t much that could help her in that area, she couldn’t turn back the clock this night and make things better; all that she was able to do was watch the minutes tick by as she continued to shiver from the cold and the hurt.

She remembered the nights that she had laid quietly and comfortably in Paul’s arms.  There had been thousands of those nights; she had felt safe and loved with him and through his touch.  She longed for his touch, to hear his breathing and have it lull her into sleep and she laid there trying to find it in her mind’s eye.  Misty also knew that she would never feel that again and she knew that what she had felt with him, the chemistry that they had together could never be had with anyone else.  Her mental diary was afloat with all that they had done together and all that they had been and she prayed for sleep to come so that she could live within the dream of her love for him.

Sleep didn’t come and neither did Paul, he had left her in a way that her rational thoughts knew was lasting.  It wasn’t the rational thoughts that Misty lived in now; it was the dreams and her imagination. She needed them, just as much as she had needed Paul and she hung onto every thread in her mind, weaving together his being as if he were real and there.  She created their walks to the lake, their lazy days on the beach and she created his arms around her.  She closed her eyes and his scent filled her nostrils as if he was beside her.

Misty was the only one there however and she was beside herself in grief and pain.  There was no smile to be had, and even glancing over at his picture on her nightstand brought her to tears.  She tried with diligence to speak to him through that photo, but he did not answer, for he couldn’t.  She touched his face with her fingers and reminded him how deeply she loved him.  She thought about how he never really understood her love for him, nor did she understand his for her.  She wondered why they loved each other so deeply and yet those words were left unsaid at the end.

There were only tears that day, uncontrollable sobbing fits and the inability to accept or recognize the fact that Paul was gone.  He wouldn’t be back and her bed would forever remain empty, just as her heart would remain irreparably broken.  She shut down after that day, partially out of self-preservation and partially because without Paul she felt as if her heart was missing the second beat.  He had completed her in many ways, given her strength when she had none and made her laugh when she wanted to cry.  She had fallen so deeply in love with him that without him her life was meaningless.

Misty couldn’t find any meaning in her loneliness and so she pulled the covers tighter up around her neck, grabbing the picture of Paul off the night stand and bringing it under the covers with her.  It was senseless that he was gone; it was senseless that he had left her like that.  What few friends that she had left had assured her that she would get over it and that the pain would lessen with time, but Misty knew that wasn’t the case.  She knew that she would never get over it and she knew that the hurt inside her was too deep to repair.  Misty knew that the words, “what if”, would plague her until she was no longer. 

Misty reached over and grabbed for another tissue as the tears quietly rolled down her cheeks.  The tears, at that moment, were the only thing that reminded her of what she had lost of who she had lost.  He had been her soul mate and she knew that.  She knew that in some way, even though he did not want to admit it, Paul also knew that.  He had hesitated to tell her he loved her, it hadn’t been his style, but she knew that he did; he had shown her in many ways and many times.  But as the tears flowed she thought about what the police officers said when they had knocked on the door.  The last words he had uttered as they pulled him from the wreckage. At that moment in time, at that very second that Paul knew he could never tell her himself he had asked the Medic to, “Tell Misty I love her like I’ve loved no other.”  And Misty knew that she too had loved him like she had and never would love another.

 

 

Thank You Brent Shuttleworth For The Music

Sisters

They walked together for many years, carrying with them the burdens of their youth.  The emotional baggage that came along with living in a home rife with alcoholism and abuse, and they tucked it neatly into their packs saying that they would someday deal with the aftermath of it all.  They never did, not really, for the scars would run deep and they would affect every aspect of their lives, every reaction they would have and every decision that they would make.

It was the decisions that would cause them to drift apart, like leaves fallen in a creek bed, each drifting with the current of their choice, taking paths that would carry them in almost opposite directions.  One would make choices based on her belief that it was the right thing to do and the other because of a need to protect her heart.  Ultimately, the thing that they needed the most, what they needed to help them accept their past and deal with the burdens of their youth, would be the same thing that they turned away from.  That one thing, that little bit of knowledge and understanding that they needed would be nowhere around and they would have to walk alone, trying to figure out where to go and how to react to adversity absent the other.

The loneliness of it all and the feeling that they were not totally understood by anyone would always been there.  They had been each other’s support group through their youth and removing that from their own mix would be their downfall.  They didn’t have each other to rely on when things became tough, when they needed a friend and a sounding board, leaving their pain to burn inside, charring what was left of their hearts.  They still loved, but they didn’t feel loved.  They felt alone and abandoned, isolated from the world yet they were surrounded by people, none of which understood their pain, the charred remains of their hearts.

It would be years and take a death to reunite them.  The death of a woman they called “Mother”, and though their father had died many years prior, he could not keep his family together during life thus his inability to unite them in his death was apparent.  Their father was the biggest catalyst for the pain they kept tucked away in their packs, he was abusive and a drunk, but their mother, despite her inability to stop him kept it all a secret, or so she thought.  The town knew, the families of both of their parents knew, but still their mother kept it all a secret, like a coveted treasure.  The secrets were what kept them together as children and drove them apart as adults.  One of them wanting to pretend that it hadn’t happened at all, that there was no turmoil, she was comfortable there and it was safe.  The other one accepted it and tried to make it better for everyone, though it was impossible to do; but she never hid from it, never created a fantasy world.  She lived in the here and now, always striving to make it better, to correct the past and sometimes to her own detriment.

When their mother died they hadn’t spoken in the twenty years prior.  Both of them having gone through years of remaining in bad relationships, relationships that were absent of the other’s support.  One of them having stayed for her children, the other having stayed not for her children, but for her siblings; yet both of them having stayed because they didn’t want to be failures.  Because their mother had stayed, despite their father’s shortcomings and they had been taught to do so, to stay in relationships that were bad.  It wasn’t that one cared more than the other, because that wasn’t the case and it wasn’t that one needed more than the other, but the death of their mother had made the younger of the two realize just what she had given up and that there were words that needed to be said that hadn’t been, she could not allow that to continue to have another member of her family leave this world without her having said those words.

So it was that the younger one embarked on a journey, one that would fill her head with thoughts of rejections and her heart with fear.  She had always known where her siblings were, even though she kept it a secret from her husband for years, she had to, but she knew and she knew that this was the time.  That the demise of her marriage, the crumbling of her family, despite her attempts to keep it intact, taught her something important and she needed to make an attempt to correct the mistakes that she herself had made.  That lesson was simple in her mind; that families are not a fantasy, they are real and they all suffer some sort of dysfunction, no matter how hard you try to conceal it.  They are just as flawed as a blemish on a fine piece of furniture and covering the flaw with a vase of flowers does nothing to correct the flaw.

The journey would be hard and the ability to correct the past, or at least put it into perspective would not just be about her, but about the willingness of her siblings to accept her back.  She could do nothing more than try and so she mustered all of the courage inside of her.  Maybe, just maybe her mother, from her final resting place was guiding her; she had to believe this for it gave her courage and strength.  She needed those things for she had always been a frightened little girl.  The child that ran from her own shadow needed that courage more now than she ever had for there was no one to protect her from the past, her childhood or her failed marriage.

She stood there as the door opened, not sure what would happen and expecting anger.  The two of them stood there looking at each other in a quizzical manner; not sure what to say or do, lending the moment to an awkward silence wherein you expect to hear the sound of a missile having been dropped.  Eventually, the silence would be broken and they would begin to talk.  It was just a moment in time that seemed like an eternity, but it was a moment that would reunite them for all the right reasons.  They would agree that the past, the years that they had spent apart would be forgotten for they both knew they had a bond that ran deep within them.  They both knew that they needed each other; that their love had not died but rather left in their packs until they could open them again.  The leaves of their lives that had fallen on that creek bed so many years prior had eventually found their way back together to rest comfortably against the shore line, carried by the current of life.

 

 

"The blood that runs through you is shared by those that have shared your life, your experiences.  They know your pain and your joys for they have also known them." (me 2013)

The Ritual

THE RITUAL

He held the glass containing the amber color liquid in the air examining its contents, it was ritualistic in nature and Sandy had seen him do it so many times before that there was an almost indignant familiarity to it.  It reminded her of her years in Catholic School, the Priest at Mass holding up the chalice as homage to Jesus Christ.  But the symbolism at church was so much different, it was reverent and wholesome and what Josh, her husband of over twenty years, was doing was simply destructive.

Josh was also anything but reverent and wholesome, and his consumption of amber color liquids of one sort or another had been going on for as long as she had known him.  At first she thought it to be a folly of youth, something that he would grow out of, that as they got older and had a family that he would slow down or stop the drinking.  It never happened, even though she had begged and pleaded with him on so many occasions that she had lost count early on in their relationship.  It was never one drink, or even two and it was always an everyday thing.  She often thought it normal; after all, her own father had been a drinker as was his family.  She grew up around people that drank too much, men and women alike and it was for that very reason she herself had drank very little in her lifetime. 

Sandy never truly understood the reasons that people drank so much, a social drink was fine in her mind but after that there was no real reason to continue and she had children, someone had to be responsible, able to care for them at night if they were ill.  Her children were her responsibility and she knew that too, for it became an unwritten rule around her house.  It was never openly addressed, it just was and she accepted it rather than to fight it.  Now, years later, she understood more than she had ever imagined.  Sandy knew by accepting things without fighting them that she had condoned them, she had allowed a certain amount of selfishness in her partner that she would never have allowed from herself.

What Sandy hadn’t known then was that she hurt the people she loved the most in allowing the drinking to continue at the level that it did, for she allowed not only selfishness, but also a form of isolationism in Josh.  He could hide from the world through the use of alcohol, and whatever else he was into at the time.  He didn’t have to face the world, nor his responsibility as a parent.  She knew now that her children were the ones that had suffered the most, just as she had as a child, with little interaction or involvement from their father her children would always long for that, feel like something was missing or that they were not good enough for him to spend time with them doing the things they enjoyed. 

Sandy sees that now and it hurts her, the fact that her children aren’t close to Josh makes her sad, but not nearly as sad as how it all ended, for it didn’t need to be like that.  There were a lot of years vested in the relationship, a lot of years of trying to make Josh happy, but in the end she knew that she would never be able to do that.  Josh’s happiness was his to own and not her responsibility to create.  But, as they say; “It is always darkest before the dawn.”, and that was clearly the case in Sandy’s life and through Josh’s actions.

The darkness arrived one night early in the spring time, when things should have been getting brighter and lusher, but the darkness was overwhelming and it nearly caused Josh to lose his life.  Things had been strained for some time, months and months of push and pull, broken promises and outright lies.  He said he would stop the drinking, taking the pills that he had been consuming and Josh had assured Sandy he could do it on his own.  That didn’t happen and Josh thought that Sandy didn’t see him drinking in the middle of the day or at night but she had and it hurt her to know that the alcohol that he was so ritualistic about was more important to him than she was.  It was the first spring that she wouldn’t feel refreshed, that she wouldn’t look forward to daylight savings time ending and the blossoming of the flowers in her garden.

That spring things were as dark as they had ever been for it was then that Josh overdosed on prescription pain medications and alcohol, that he was hospitalized and nearly died.  Sandy remembered how angry she was at him for what he had done, for his own self-destructive acts and the destruction of her family.  So many pills in such a short time and clinging to life as he laid in the hospital bed, unaware of his surroundings, the names of his children or where he was.  He laid there restrained to the bed in a diaper; unable to control his own bodily functions and she thought maybe if only he could see himself now, maybe then he would understand.  But Sandy knew, she knew in her heart that even that wouldn’t change him, what he had done, for he would do like he had always done and find a way to make excuses, to blame his actions or choices on someone else or some external force.  That was just Josh and that was what he had always done, every time he lost a job or a friend it was because of some other reason, he was never responsible for his own actions.  And those loses would just be another reason to be angry, to drown the anger at the bottom of a bottle.  This spring was so different from all the ones that Sandy had looked forward to in the past for there was heaviness in the air that only comes with a deep winter freeze.

The days turned to weeks and every day, despite her anger and embarrassment, Sandy trekked the twenty-five miles each way to the hospital.  She sat there in that hospital room with Josh quietly, for she couldn’t talk to him, she didn’t know what to say and even if she did, she knew he couldn’t understand or absorb any of it.  He was someplace far away from reality, in a world that was only available to those in Josh’s state of mental incapacity, where reality was twisted and things aren’t real.  Every once in a while he would speak, for the most part the words were unintelligible, but when Sandy could understand the words that Josh spoke it was as if she was listening to a character from “Alice In Wonderland”, and Josh was clearly the “Mad Hatter”.  For he insisted that he had been in a log cabin in the woods hanging out with a heavy metal band smoking crack.  Obviously he hadn’t gone anywhere, he was in restraints and besides, Sandy doubted that a heavy metal band would hang out with a guy that was in diapers.  It was then that Sandy knew that her life, or at least the one that she had created in her mind, the one that was safe and perfect, was nothing more than one huge lie and it was one that she could no longer live in.

Sandy left the hospital that day and as she walked out into the open air outside the building it hit her, the heat and the sunshine, they were there and it was her spring.  The cold dampness that she had felt that morning as she entered the building to sit by Josh was gone; the sweater that she had worn to keep her warm was suddenly as oppressive as the relationship that she had stayed in for her family.  Sandy knew in that instant that there would be a change, things would be different in her life; and she knew that it didn’t matter anymore if Josh wanted to change his own life.  Sandy knew that she had to change her life that she had to make the choice to live without the burden of alcoholism in it.  If Josh could not change himself neither could she, but she could be free of carrying his burdens of hiding his secrets from the world and allowing him to make excuses.  There would be an ultimatum, a time limit and if Josh did come out of this he would have to rise to the challenge.  If he didn’t, that was alright too, for Sandy knew and understood now that which for so many years she had not.

“Life is not to be lived in the shadows, for the shadows you cast are forever evolving, changing positions. The things which we try to conceal within the shadows will soon be uncovered as the sunshine resurfaces in your life.” (me 2013)

 

She was just a child, a little girl moving between the age of toddler and little girl.  Her long curly hair falling down her back like the wings of an angel, she had always moved through life with a curiosity and yet a sense of shyness, looking towards her father with both a request for approval and protection.  He had always been there, loving and caring for her, nurturing her curiosity and encouraging her to move from the shadows of the shyness by offering her a safety net, a place in his arms that she could run to and find solace.

It was a day, just another day when things changed for her, things that would forever shift the balance of her life and land her in the middle of something that no child should ever have to experience.  An argument between her parents ended with her sitting in the back of a car, looking out at her daddy as she pulled away, tears streaming down her face.  The day that changed her future, his future and pulled them apart, added distance to each of their lives.  He couldn’t run after her, protect her that day for the damage had already been done and he knew that the argument was only the beginning of what they were both about to endure.

One battle after another, one fight into the next he would struggle to see the little one, be forced to watch her grow from a distance.  Some days he would see her try to smile, and some days there would be tears hidden behind a face bent on being emotionless and yet he tried to find a way to show the little one the same safety she had felt years earlier.  He had never failed her, given up on her or stopped hoping for a time when she would again trust him not to leave her.  He knew he couldn’t explain his absence to her, that she was too young to understand it all, that if he did it would only serve to hurt her more and that was the last thing that he wanted for the one thing that was the most precious to him, to have his little girl with the angel wing hair to hurt more, to feel pain.  It was after all, his job as her daddy to protect her from all of this, from being hurt or feeling pain.

It was that need to protect his little girl that gave him the courage to do for her the most painful thing that he had ever done, to end the battle for his child and let her live in peace.  In doing so he knew that he would never have peace himself, that he would forever miss her, her smile and her laugh, he knew that his heart would have a void that could never be filled and yet he had hope.  It was a hope that someday the world would be set upright again and that she would find her way back to him, her heart filled with the love he had given her through the years before she was taken.  That she would understand and forgive him and that he would be able to sit with her, look into her eyes and see himself through her memories.

He still waits for that day to come, silently sometimes and deep in thought.  He gazes at her picture daily, talks to her, and even though he knows she cannot hear the words he hopes that she feels them in her heart, someplace deep within her.  He looks around him, everywhere, hoping that every dark haired girl is her, that a hand will reach out and touch his shoulder saying the words he longs to hear……..”Dad, its me.”

 

“The love of a parent for a child is circular in nature, never ending.  It cannot be broken or altered by distance or adversity and lives within the bond of the circle.” (me 2013)