"Far Away"

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May 5th, 2012

For mommy in heaven…

My kids wouldn't let me sleep last night. I kept them busy all afternoon and evening, yet they were still very hyper.

I picked Nico up from school at 2:00 o'clock P.M. and decided to take them for a road trip to Broward County. It's a close drive from where we live. I am just one county over to the north. I didn't feel like going home and falling into the same routine. I wanted to stimulate the boys so that they would sleep later that night. Honestly, maybe we all could get some sleep that night. It's hard to get motivated in life when you are sleep-deprived.

Nico leaves class about 10 minutes earlier than the rest of the school. Since he was a premature baby, he has had a learning delay with speech. The State of Florida placed him in a program called Early Steps. It's a great program, and it allows him to catch up to the rest of his peers academically so that by the time he reaches school age, he is better prepared to be taught and keep up. Hence the name Early Steps.

As usual, I am running late.

"Shit, it's 1:44 P.M.", I say to myself with frustration because every day I promise myself that I'll get there early, and every day I screw it up.

"Well, it's only a 2-minute drive", I try to justify to myself.

I take the short drive down long roads that could substitute as drag racing strips for young teenagers and race cars. However, I keep in mind that I should not speed. My potential tardiness in picking up my son from school compels me to press the gas pedal a little further than I intend to. Considering I am a cop, I ease the pedal back to decelerate. That thought, and the oncoming octagon-shaped red sign quite clearly read "STOP." I try not to feel rushed, but I have been a mess lately. I have been tardy more than once.

"I don't want to end up in the principal's office," I chuckle to myself.

Wouldn't you know it? As I wait for the traffic to thin out so I can cross the opposing lanes and proceed forward in my minivan, another car turns in front of me, driving in the same direction I will be traveling.

"Ugh.", I think, "So annoying; I bet they'll actually do the speed limit."

I shake my head and glance at my review mirror to check on my other son, who is strapped snuggly in his car seat, watching a movie on the portable DVD. "Like they don't get enough TV at home," I say. I'm just in a shitty mood.

As I come to the last opposing STOP sign on my quest for lateness, another car, an SUV, is blocking the road. I apply my brakes, and my vehicle slows down to crawl. I bite my lip, resisting the urge to blow my horn.

"People have been shot for lesser things in road rage incidents, "I say out loud to my son, who is oblivious to what's going on in the outside world unless it's framed in a seven-inch TV monitor.

The driver slowly pulls the large SUV forward, hardly making a dent in the forward progress. People walking on the sidewalk to pick up their children are going faster than my 6-cylinder minivan.

The inept driver finally begins the turn to the pick-up line, and in my frustration, I drive my vehicle to the inside lane of the SUV. Like any good coward, I lay my hand on the car horn and press it as hard as I pass the gas guzzler.

Finally, I arrived to pick up Nico.

Nico is the last child to be picked up. The teacher and my son stand under a tree for refuge on a hot, sunny day. I immediately placed my van in the park and exited the child station wagon to grab him. As I approach, his teacher has a friendly smile on her face. If you can see beyond her grin, you can also tell she has the "asshole" look in her eyes.

"I am so sorry I'm late.", I said, half of the smile sincere, the other thumbing my nose at the system.

"Oh, you're okay. Being late isn't a big deal; your sons are a joy." Ms. Smith says 100% insincere.

I bow my head and divert my eye contact. I immediately submit to her authority. I take Nico by his hand, and we walk back to the van defeated.

"Okay, guys, road trip! Long drive to Broward; stay buckled in."

My actual translation is, "I can't figure out what else to do today, and I don't want to go home, so let's go kill some time on an hour's drive.

While the kids daydream by gazing out the windows of the minivan and watching the traffic pass us by on our highway of broken dreams. I remain in deep thought with many thoughts going on in my mind. Strangely enough, this is the best time for me to contemplate life's trials and tribulations because it is the only time I have to myself, which might explain why I have been taking long road trips lately.

"I am so tired,"- my thought process begins. "I want things to get better now. No, not now. I liked it better yesterday. I look too far beyond what is in front of me. I should be concentrating on what's happening in my life now, but I can't.

I don't want to go through the bad to get to the good. I wish this was like American Idol and become instantly better rather than earn it. I just got to make it through this and heal. It's easier said than done - my mind wanders as the lines in the road curve with the contours of the asphalt.

"Life is cruel, and you must suffer to get stronger. Which is bullshit. It's not like I'm a struggling artist sacrificing for my craft. Good things are supposed to happen to good people. I must be a pretty bad guy. Life is hard, but it should involve compromise.

It's give and take, and I have never asked why so much has been taken with so little given back. But I am asking now. Why? Why? Maybe I should fear God more than I already do. I need to protect my children. If I don't believe in God deeper within myself, will my children be punished? Maybe attending church is the answer? So much is going on with me. I need to do things right for my children but damn it, I'm tired of being kicked when I'm down. I need to get back to good."

I'm getting closer to the park, and my concentration refocuses on the traffic I will encounter as my vehicle exits the highway. My van stops at the red light, and I focus on my sons' faces reflecting back at me in the mirror. I see their mother in their faces.

I study their hairlines and features. They remind me of their mom as her ghostly features dance upon them. Their little lips form big smiles on their face as the movie they are watching plays in the background. Their giggles pierce through my hard exterior like an ax, and I can not help but smile back.

"HONK," the driver behind me blared his horn, showing they meant business and weren't the coward I was just an hour ago.

"Shit," I wave my hand to say sorry and proceed through the green light at a high rate of speed.

The blaring of the horn scares something in me causing a reaction of fear it seems and my gas pedal will take the brunt of it as I stomp down and put the pedal to the metal.

I pull my van through the gates of the park. I make a quick left and begin to look for a parking spot. It was pretty easy to locate one. By the way, the playground is pretty open. It's a lovely park. It must be, or I must be desperate to drive 50 miles just to go there. I vote for desperate.

The great thing about the play area is that all the circumferences have a fence around them. Extending high above the swings and slides within the circumference is a blue mesh that shields the hot Florida sun from the children playing. It's the perfect place to play for everyone but my kids, who quickly get bored.

I entertain my boys as much as possible while at the park. It's good, and it's terrible. Good because they love it. Their laughter brings me joy. Destructive because they expect it always. I am so tired. My body feels drained of all the energy reserves it once had.

My muscular exterior turned into a shell of its former self. I went from months of not having fast food like McDonald's and KFC to having it every day. I need my reserved energy, but I am on adrenaline now. I struggle to keep up with them because I am fatigued. My dog and pony show needs to be better for my boys, who are bored with the park. They make the great escape through the closed gates before I can reach them.

The park has a large playing area. The wide-open field is large enough to fly kites, lay under the sun's rays, and have a picnic or play ball. It's a weekday, so the boys run freely like wild horses. I give chase but not too hard since there is nowhere for them to go. As they reach the walking path, they slowly wait for Dad to catch up.

The pace turns to a slow walk. The boys are ahead of me, enabling me to watch them. It gives me a little peace as we walk from a short distance. I reach for my iPhone and put on some music. Something to listen to as we do our leisurely stroll.

The boys run, and they stop to look at nature. I continue my pace far enough to observe them but close enough to catch them if they do not. I scroll through my music, looking for something soothing to calm my thoughts. We walk to the dead end of the park. The boys decided to stop and watch a squirrel as it approached them, suspecting they may have food.

This squirrel is park-broken, or the furry beast has been taking lessons from Yogi the Bear.

I decide to stop my walk and sit under a pavilion to watch the boys and listen to my music blaring from the bottom speaker. It is so quiet out; other than the voice of Mother Nature echoing off the tin roof of the rectangular pavilion, I can hear the music clearly.

The shuffle feature on the phone has been going from song to song. Still, I would occasionally manually go forward to the next song if I needed help finding inspiration. As I proceeded to forward my sixth song, I suddenly stopped. There's a pause. It's the song I played for my wife at her funeral right before I was to do her eulogy.

My first reaction is to fast-forward it.

I feel the muscles and tendons working together through my thumb to apply pressure to the tempered glass so that the heat transfer from my body would fast forward to the next song. But I don't. My kids are playing together, and it has captivated me. It's like she's here. I don't dare change it now. I just watch as the song's intro ends and the lyrics start.

"This time, This place

Misused, Mistakes

Too long, Too late

Who was I to make you wait

Just one chance...

The song plays, and I stare at my sons. My mind reverts back to the day I found my wife in a state of everlasting sleep. I block it out. The song plays.

...Just one breath

Just in case there's just one left

'Cause you know,

you know, you know...

I watch Nico run towards the trees as his little brother chases him. Nico looks back at him and laughs. The song reaches to the chorus.

...That I love you

I have loved you all along

And I miss you

Been far away for far too long...

Christopher is eager to catch him, and he giggles up an octane with delight. I have to use them to move past this. I get lost in the music for a second.

...I keep dreaming you'll be with me

and you'll never go

Stop breathing if

I don't see you anymore...

Their joy and their laughter are beautiful. As beautiful as Mimie's soul. She has to be here witnessing this. The laughter and this song. She's here with us. She has to be.

...On my knees, I'll ask

Last chance for one last dance

'Cause with you, I'd withstand

All of hell to hold your hand

I'd give it all...

I watch, and my eyes well up in tears. The song always gets me as it leads up to the chorus. It's the same song that Mimie used to think of when we lost our twin girls, Sophia and Gabriella, so tragically in October of 2006.

... I'd give for us

Give anything, but I won't give up

'Cause you know,

you know, you know...

I wipe the tears from my eyes. I feel so tired. The boys stop chasing one another. I can see from a distance they are bonding as brothers should. Their bond is growing into something that only siblings can understand.

...That I love you; I have loved you all along

And I miss you, been far away for far too long

I keep dreaming you'll be with me and you'll never go

Stop breathing if I don't see you anymore...

Christopher turns to walk away and falls. He tripped over the air. I laugh within myself. Nico then bends over and helps him up from the ground. They laugh. Such beautiful laughter that I hope finds its way up to heaven. I hope this music flows to her as it eminents from my iPhone.

...So far away

Been far away for far too long

So far away

Been far away for far too long

But you know, you know, you know...

A couple on a stroll began to approach me on the path my boys were on that would lead them right past my pavilion. I wipe the tears from my eyes and look down directly at my iPhone, rudely ignoring them as they go by. My peripheral vision witnesses them move away from me, and I glance up. My boys are standing at the foot of a tree. Nico is on one side, and Christopher is on the other.

...I wanted

I wanted you to stay

'Cause I needed

I need to hear you say

That I love you...

They use the tree as a shield to block each other from view, like hide and seek. I wish life was as innocent as two children playing a game of cat and mouse. My heart feels heavy for them. Their innocence is lost, but they don't know it yet. The song is about to end. I just watch my boys.

....I have loved you all along

And I forgive you

For being away for far too long

So keep breathing

'Cause I'm not leaving you anymore

Believe it...

I look up at the rusty tin ceiling and let out a sigh. I shake my head, still in disbelief that my world has changed overnight.

"People go through this all the time; suck it up," I think to myself. "Toughen up. Be a man about it and take care of your responsibilities." The song has me lost in the moment.

...Hold on to me and, never let me go

Keep breathing

'Cause I'm not leaving you anymore

Believe it

Hold on to me and never let me go...

I revert my attention to my boys as they start walking towards me. Amazingly, they are talking side by side. It's gibberish, but they understand it. They have to be because it seems like a very engrossing conversation. I glance back at my iPhone as the Knickelback song ends.

...Keep breathing

Hold on to me and, never let me go

Keep breathing

Hold on to me and never let me go."

I can not believe I am going through this. It fucking sucks, and I am angry. I close my eyes and suck in my anger. I then take a deep breath in as my boy's laughter reaches me through the echo of the tin roof. 

"Are your two having fun?" I ask, masking my pain and hurt. I smile at my boys as Nico approaches me. I bend over and pick him up. Not to be outdone. Jealous of my attention, Christopher runs up, and I scoop him up with my other arm.

"My boys," I smile, "You're my boys. Let's go home."

I smile, thinking I did my job for the day.

"By the time I get home, they will be so tired, they'll be begging me to put them in bed," I think.

Sometimes, it doesn't pay to think because they are still up, and it's almost eleven o'clock at night. They are hyper and won't sleep. I take it as a sign that they had a good day, and they don't want it to end. My physical strength may wane, but my inner strength keeps me going. Time to put my foot down.

"Okay, boys, that's it. Time for bed. Don't laugh at me. I am so serious."

-We miss you, mom-

For dad

Brighter Day

"Far Away" lyrics written by Chad Kroeger, Nickelback


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Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

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