It was nice to ride with you both again. As the music played, the memories stepped out of the darkened corners of my mind.
I sometimes forget how much I’ve missed you. I let time dull that loss I felt when I finally bid you both farewell.
I admit I’ve not thought of you as often as I feel I should. You gave so much, accepted me as I was and much of what you taught I still adhere to.
I look forward to the next time, when the music calls forth the memories anew. I’ll do my best to make sure that
I’m hoping someone saw it, whatever it was that hit me. If they did, why instead of warning me, did they watch it run me over. Did they figure it wouldn’t kill me? Well, I’m not dead yet it’s true but am I really getting better?
I was enjoying the surroundings and was hopeful for the day. I think next time I’ll hide in the shadows no matter how good I feel.
When it comes around again tell Monday it’s not welcome anymore. I could use some tea and lots of sleep. Then help me hide from Tuesday. Someone told me the truck it’s driving is bigger …
There, I heard it, I’m sure.
The sound of something heavy dropping from 50 feet up. Alas, it wasn’t, she is maybe 8lbs at most and the drop was maybe 3 feet.
Thunder rumbles from up above. No, it’s just her walking, coming down to make her demands.
Then she is there. Silent as a ghost, but way more terrifying. She stares at the door and then at me. Her message is clear, spoken without a sound.
I sigh and walk to the door to the room. I open it and in she walks in without so much as a backward glance of appreciation.
“Just once would be nice”, I say to myself. “At least my dog is thankful. I wonder if anyone wants a cat?”
I hope she cannot read minds…..
I have to wonder after today. How many times did I misread the signals my body was sending me before today? How often did I wonder why everyone else could sit for what seemed an eternity (in reality was often 30 minutes) and as far as I know be completely engaged. If I stayed focused, as far as everyone else was concerned, it was a struggle most times.
I realized today at church, I started to have second thoughts with the training that was going to occur there. Was I wrong to decide to stay instead of going home? This weekend had a lot of social interaction/involvement going on and little down time.
On Saturday, between my morning event (volunteering with others) and time with my friends in the evening. I did have a short shutdown. My brain just locked for a lack of a better word. I laid down on the bed and did not move for 10-20 minutes. I had things to do. “Up, get up! You can’t just lie there.” I didn’t move much as I wanted to. Then the dog barked and that somehow jolted me out of it somewhat. The few “must do’s” got done but that was it. The feeling carried into the evening as it took a while to engage without feeling it was forced.
So back to that training session. This time I started listening, not to the speaker, but to my body. Discomfort from the eyes, the urge to “move”. Conveniently, our church nursery was unoccupied and dark. Also, a rocking chair is in the room. There, I found the relief I needed.
There I sat, in a rocking chair, rocking, with sunglasses on, and listening to the training session on dealing with drug addiction in the family. There I sat, knowing that I would have been constantly moving, looking at my phone so that I could ignore the lights. Instead, I rocked quietly in the dark, wearing glasses, and listening better than I expected I would.
You can take it; I know that as I sit here with my emotions and thoughts in turmoil.
You can take it, I know it as I scream out my frustration at all that has happened. As I unleash all this pent up fury at all that I can’t control and comprehend.
Every thought, every word, each unleashed wave of energy dispels upon contact with you. Each spell cast is a blend of unanswered questions and bitter friends. Yet, I know you can take it.
Then there is quiet, save for my breathing and I watch the smoke get carried off by the wind. You are there, untouched and unchanged.
I have no more tears to cry right now as my breathing slowly finds its proper rythm. The last of the energy crackles at my fingertips. I rise, these final words on my lips,
“Thank you. For I know you can take it.”
As I write this I have to wonder exactly how many times this situation has been replayed. How often would I see myself just barely keeping it together when my “plans” were suddenly altered. I almost want to ask how my co-workers have viewed those times but if I do keep things as contained in public as I believe then maybe they’ve not noticed anything. As my boss hasn’t addressed similar situations I have to believe that outwardly the mask I’ve put on is still mostly in place.
My day had been going well overall. As a delivery driver some days are very straightforward and other times you honestly wonder how there are not more serious accidents on the road. This is not my ideal job but it is a job I can do and for now it works. I have small routines and I do my run in a certain order (doing it in the reverse order has not gone great (…I wonder why, kinda). I handle my stops a certain way and get back usually in a certain time ballpark.
Yesterday I was reminded again that I can be sensitive/easily agitated when that routine gets interrupted. I left for my second run and was called back to get a part I “forgot” which really surprised me as I thought I had done l double checked everything. I turned around and picked up the part (15 minutes later) only to see that not only was it not properly noted but was printed after the specified time. I’m sure I didn’t forget it but that it came late. It took hours to stop venting (to myself as I drove) to feel settled. Then in explaining to my wife why this bothered me I could feel that coming back…sigh…
In hindsight, the “rules” were broken and I felt my work ethic was questioned. Yet, my reaction was wrong. I have and will forget things and if I expect grace then I must show it to others.
To those who have been ignored it silenced by the church, I’m sorry.
I’d offer to take your pain away, to wash the memory clean if I could. I won’t say I understand what you’re feeling either, we know that would be a lie.
I can’t act on my desires either. The longing for justice and desire of carrying it out myself.
Their death wouldn’t bring you closure anyway. It wouldn’t undo what they did, the lies they told you, or put your shattered soul back together. Time cannot be undone.
I can only offer to sit here in silence. I won’t tell you why it happened, only it wasn’t your fault. I won’t give some “church answer” as to why this isn’t so bad, because there is none. I can only offer to sit here with you and listen if you care to speak. Again, I’m sorry. No one deserves what you’ve gone through.