Grieve in Your Own Time

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July14, 2012

Sometimes you have to let your grief out, but it seems stuck. Like that lump in your throat that you feel festering. The prelude to a vomit because your getting sick. Your mouth waters because your glands sense it’s coming. Your skin gets clammy as the sweat begins to push its way out from your skin. Your color is white regardless of the skin tone God blessed you with and your body gets fatigued because your not feeling right. Your on your hands and knees with your head hanging towards the ground. Your grief stricken from your loss and it makes you feel like your going to die. You want to get it out but you know it will take time.

No one ever expects to hear the news, that they just lost a loved one. The grief sinking in, the life that you shared flashes before your eyes. It starts to boggle the mind. “You just saw them, and everything was fine.”

There is no final goodbyes, or sometimes, never seeing them prior to them being gone. The words you always wanted to say are lost in an abyss, you scream and shout as you let it out, praying that they’re listening to your words that are floating about, stirring in your own misery you can hardly stand. It’s no longer cathartic to let it out, so you just bottle it up and live in despair. Hoping for closure that is never there.

You have to grieve in your own time. Don’t rush the feeling of hurt from your system until your ready to move forward with your healing. Let the pain ache your bones and the misery consume your mind. Scream, holler and cry. Let the chills flow through your body before you try and walk. It will get worse before it gets better as you spiral down into a hole of darkness before you can see the light that will guide you out.

Heal your heart in your own way but appeal to your emotions by letting them out. You have to manage your grief that is deep within you, before it turns to hate and consumes your life. Work with yourself by containing the battles grinding away at your insides, “if you let it stay and fester it will tear you apart.”  Tell yourself-to set the grief free. It’s never easy when you imagine how your life use to be. It fills you with anger and blinds you  from the real purpose of healing: Letting your wounds close, your body rest and your mind set yourself free, accepting that you can not go back and change the reality your in.

Life is not easy and nothing it has to offer is ever given to you. You have to find a way to get healthy and reinvigorate yourself. Choose a life that makes you happy and gets you feeling right. Tell your self you can get better, you have the power to improve life for the better. Just tell your self you can.

“I can do it, I am the only one who can lift myself up and carry on. The one I love may be dead, but I’m alive today and ready to lift my spirits in my own way. I love them now, like I did yesterday. Those feelings won’t change tomorrow like any other day before they left me. I will grieve in my own time and when I am ready to face the world, I will be better then I was before I lost the one that made me a better person. They would want it that way now that they’re gone: To live a life that is happy and prosperous, and to eventually carry on.”


https://twitter.com/FusaCmee

Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.

Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com

A Trip to the Mall, Part II

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 July 11th, 2012


He doesn’t say much just points in the distance. I look in the general direction and cringe when I see Nico in the fountain. He must be making a wish or dedicating himself to the mall God. It‘s okay I did my pre-game psych up so I was ready, just not for a swim in the food courts water fountain...


I made a mad scramble to the fountain, leaving Christopher and the food behind. I got there just in time to grab Nico’s feet, while his head and torso were able to find their way to the water, pooling inside the concrete fountain, as it cascades down from the upper statue spouting water. I pulled him up in the air by his legs, like a tea bag, swung him forward, and carried him in my arms, on our long walk back to the table, where the stroller was, I just smiled at everyone and whispered at the gawkers’ who sat and stared.

“Olympic trails, kids. They gotta dream”, shrugging my shoulders.

Thankfully, I learned to keep extra clothes in the diaper bag. It was a simple clean up. Just a quick change of his shirt. I couldn’t help but smirk as I used napkins to wipe his face. I was ready to go and I felt bad that all that pizza was going to waste. But they weren’t interested anymore, so I decided to go to the playground that the mall had indoors.

I figured this is the spot that they could run around and I could sit in one place and enjoy the little time I would have to contemplate about my life and my search for a nanny. Just a quick mental break, as my boys would run and play and make friends among the dozens of other kids that were already inside the play areas fake landscape.

It looks like fun for them, a fake boat with oars, a bridge that you could slide down, a stairway to nowhere, where they could climb and jump down. A giant big wheel molded to the ground but with handles and pedals even know the wheels wouldn’t go round. I loved the ground as you walked on it, it was like a soft trampoline, It brought out the kid in me as I softly bounced on it.

I enjoyed watching them play. They would stumble and interact with the other boys and girls at play.  The hard part is watching one then searching for the other. As time went on I lost sight of Nico. I walked to the middle of the playground where the kids were running around me, like schools of fish, as I stood in the middle of their habitat.

“Nico”, I shout. I didn’t care if everyone looked at me, I had to find my kid and I knew he was there, out there, somewhere. I looked up by the stairs, that leads to the second floor, the playgrounds entrance sits right next door. Nico had escaped and was standing on the middle landing, smiling at me, egging me on to go get him. I grind my teeth and softly speak.

“Get down here. Now.”, pointing to the ground.

Why am I whispering of all times now? I yelled at him to come down. Like I was on center stage everyone stopped to gaze at the crazy daddy yelling to the sky. I looked around at the crowd and muttered, “My son”, and pointed at him as he grinned mischievously.


So I bent down and scooped up Christopher and wandered to the top of the stairs. Nico ran away from me as if we were in the middle of playing. I reach out and grab his collar. He tumbled to the ground and laughed so loud everyone heard his hoot and holler.

I picked him up and walked back down the stairs to the stroller where I strapped them both in. We had to go to the Apple Store so I could fix my iPhone‘s, tempered screen. Nico dropped it on the tile floor a few days before, on my birthday, shattering the screen.

I stroll into the store and towards the back, hoping to get in to have the repair done without an appointment. The store was jammed packed and I had to weave, in and out, finally taking a route, closest to the wall by the accessories. Bad mistake by me, both my boys placed their hand out and all I heard scatter about was the sound of boxes hitting the floor.

“Whack, bang, boom.”

My stroller goes haywire as the boxes get in tangled under the wheels.

“I’m sorry, my bad”, is all I can squeal. “Pardon me, excuse me, let me through", I say, trying to fit the stroller sideways, by the door away from everyone and everything.

I look at all the pretty iPads laying on the tables, for those who want to investigate the tablet, so many adults just playing around more like kids, playing more than mine, this time. I am approached by a clerk who is ready to fix my phone. But out of the blue a loud screech sound fills the room!

“Weep, weep, weep” the sound is piercing to the nerves, everyone places their hands over their ears to try and tamper the sound. I look round and I found Nico sitting near an Ipad on the ground. He had taken off the lock, sounding the alarm.

“Excuse me, sorry” , is all I can muster out, screaming out loud over the siren, the patrons scattering about.

As the workers scurry to fix the alarm. A lady with her daughter gives me a look that sent chills down my spine. She didn’t seem kind. I think if she could she would’ve slapped me a few times.

I looked at Nico and shook my head. And stared back at the lady who had my phone, asking me questions that I couldn’t concentrate on. So I grabbed my phone and told her I’ll be back again. “There was no problems”, I said. “I’ll be back again.”

I walked past the lady who didn’t grin, my head held high, I didn’t even bother to look her way, I just walked out the door. I’ll be back again once more with or without them. I just had to get away I'll fix the phone some other day. But I was proud of myself for getting out, enjoying the mall, on this, day out.


https://twitter.com/FusaCmee

Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.

Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com

A Trip to the Mall, Part I

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July 10th, 2012

I went to the mall, my first since my wife died, with the boys. I avoided taking the little ones because my energy had changed since about the end of May. Lately, I have been building motivation to go anywhere from the couch.

"Okay, Chris, you can do this, GET UP! GET UP! Look, a new movie is starting on HBO, and I'll go after this." I know, defeated and disgraced.

Finally, in a burst of energy, I take flight. I grab the boys and throw on their shirts. Run to the van and strap them in the car seats. Start the car, run back inside, put on my shoes, run out the door, lock the door, jump in the car, back out of the driveway, and off to the mall.

Smiling, I feel proud that I got myself together; I glance back at my boys through the rearview mirror. I glance at myself and give a little wink. Good job, Chris. Then, from the corner of my eye, I notice a little white peaking out from my son's waist on the bottom left of the mirror.

"Shit, I forgot their pants."

When you drive about the mall, it never fails to feel the rush of excitement to see a parking spot close to the entrance, only to be let down to find out as you get closer to the place it's just a compact car you couldn't see. I always imagine the driver laughing at me as they shop somewhere throughout the mall.

"Drat's!" I exclaim, "damn those new Fiats," I grumble under my breath. My boys are oblivious to what's happening as they are cozy in their seats without a care.

I parked in no man's land, figuring I could have walked to the entrance and back by the time I circled to find a parking spot.

"Okay, boy, let go!" I shout. They don't know where we are yet, but when they figure it out, they won't be as eager as they seem now to escape their coziness.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Preparing for my exit from the van and grabbed the kids to their other seats. It's like a pre-game psych-up.

"oohh uhhh ooh uhhh," I breathe in and out rapidly. "Okay, Chris, let's do this stroller, kids, strapped in, and then go, go, go!"

I'm pumped. The adrenaline is like fuel to my veins. I jump from the van and head straight to the back of the hatch. I reach in without breaking my stride and take out the stroller. I pop it open with the ease of an umbrella. I quickly head over to Nico and snap him out of his car seat. It's so quick; all you can hear is the double "click" as the straps separate from the seatbelt clip and move from his body. I snatch him out of his seat, and before he realizes where he's at, I'm flying him to the front seat of the stroller.

"There ya go, Nico, just like that. I'll be right back gonna grab "baby." 

With a quick double snap, I sweep him out of his car seat and fly him in the air by balancing him on my hands and sliding him into his place at the back of the stroller. I bend down and tickle Nico's tummy. I fly high because it was done flawlessly.

"Alright, Nico, ready to goooo!" I nudge his belly. I lean over him and reach toward "baby." I place my hands on Chirsopther's cheeks, "Way to go, Superman, let's hit the…." I take a pause; the air is stale and no longer crisp. I take a deeper whiff.

"Oh man "baby" you crapped."

We charge to the double doors of the mall by the food court entrance. I figured we'd eat first. Everyone ignores me as I pass right through. Everyone's too good to hold the door for me. As I get closer to the door, I swing the stroller backward, and with my right hand, I grip the U-shaped handle and whip it open. And run through the door. I smile because we all slid in before the door closed on us.

"Score!"

I will make space at the table by the pizza place. The boys struggle to break free, with Nico already halfway out. People sitting around us watch while he screams for me. I smile and nod like it's the cutest thing I have ever seen. I walk over with the drinks and take them out. Thankfully, they both take their seats at the table.

I spread out the food, and they began to eat. I am shocked because they don't eat anything, And I start to munch on my food. The boys jump down and run around. I can see them from where I am. It's okay to let them play. I would eat really fast and then grab them once I was done. I look down for a minute and then back up; I see Christopher staring at me while standing in line at the Chinese restaurant. I crack a smile until I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Can I help you?" I ask, looking up at the friendly custodian cleaning up after everyone?

He doesn't say much, just points in the distance. I look in the general direction and cringe when I see Nico in the fountain. He must make a wish or dedicate himself to the mall God as the water covers him. It's okay. I did my pre-game psych-up, so I was ready, just not for a swim in the food court's water fountain. But I was ready. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

Part II July 11th, 2012 8:00pm


https://twitter.com/FusaCmee

Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print. 

Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com

Remembering a Loved One

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July 9th, 2012

A loved one lost isn’t too far away when all you need to do is close your eyes and get lost in the moment of your memory. Think of the good times that stand the test of time. The bad times that made you who you are. And the hard times to know that you made it then, you can make it now.

Imagine their smile that you were able to elicited with a single joke, the heat of their breath on your skin, the sound of their voice ringing in your ears, the feel of their touch on your face. Know that they’re here by your side, guiding your thoughts from the other side.

I can still smell the pomegranate resonating off her skin. The smell still gets my senses buzzing. The softening crème exfoliating her exterior derma until it’s as smooth as a new born baby. I imagine running my hand down the outside of her arm, past her elbow, over her forearm, placing my hand into her hers. Her perfectly shaped fingers intertwining with mine, as they marry each other in a tight embrace. The tips of her fingers are well equipped with strong and healthy nails perfect and in no need of attention from manufactures like Zoya or Mabelyn . God made each digit with perfection. A hand model in the making, the curves of each finger indefectible, as the length of each one are perfectly aligned from the pinky to the thumb. A touch from either one was enough to give you chills. Just to feel it once more would give me one more thrill.

I look at her face and follow the outline of her almond shaped eyes. When I look deeper inside, I can see the outside brown fading, as it spreads inward dissipating slowly as the green fills outward, forming the perfect hazel color. When the sunlight hit’s the colors just right, it drowns out the dark brown of the iris, allowing the green to take over creating a dazzling display of light as the suns rays bounce around creating a twinkle in her eyes. I am captivated by the beauty of her glare, as I stare back, I’m mesmerized. What I wouldn’t give to look at them once more.

I feel helpless and vulnerable when I dream about her face, remembering each blemish, freckle and detail that gave her beauty and grace. One of the reasons we named our daughter, Sophia Grace. Her face was perfectly fit for her, it was made by angels and would brighten the day of any man when she walked their way. Her check bones were high, her jaw was square, her nose with a perfect slope, that started between her eyes and down her face, her bridge was low, then rose outward, curving down and tucked away, perfectly on her face. To be able to escape the confines of my mind and see her face yet again, would give me a chance to live again.

Her red lips were full and rich, enough to make any Botox recipient jealous. The plumpness of the bottom and top would grab anyone’s attention, especially when she talked, they’d give you pause as the words spilled from her mouth, even in the middle of her screams and shouts. Soft and tender to the touch, she knew how to accentuate them with her various lip glosses , Mac, Lorac, and bare essentials. To kiss them you’d have been lucky, how delicate and smooth, like a pillow for your head, your lips would sink in, bonding your lips and hers together ,sharing your love. If God would give me the chance just to see them and press my lips up against them.

To hold her in your warm embrace, as her arms are wrapped around your waist. The strength in her grip would translate the love she had, radiating from her soul, that penetrates the person you are, making the spiritual connection that melds you into one. Its heaven on earth when you get lost in someone else’s cuddle, losing track of time, as you close your eyes and bow your head, squeezing her tight, feeling her breath exhale from your pressure, never wanting to let go and hoping it last forever.

It’s hard to open your eyes and experience the feeling of losing them again, all you want to do is hold your eyes closed tightly, and never peek, not even slightly. But there is a time when you must face the truth and accept that the moment will end. But when you want to remember, just close your eyes again, your loved one will be here in your mind forever, until your very end.



https://twitter.com/FusaCmee

Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.

Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com