October 11th, 2012
What am I doing? I'm trying too much, too soon. I am trying to figure out what I am trying to gain by taking on so much in so little time. Life doesn't always have to be so difficult. Deep down, you know others are going through their own heartaches. Still, when the heartaches are being thrown at you constantly, you can't help but think that a black cloud is over your head and every moment will be dreadful for the rest of your life. It makes one feel very morbid.
I try to see the glimmer of hope. You know, that silver lining in my cloud, but damn it, where is it? Whatever sins I have committed, I should finally be covered. Or, at least, I thought I would be. Is my glass half full, or is it half empty?
When my son was hurt on the very boat I bought to forget about life for a while, from all our recent heartache, I couldn't help but cuss it out. At the same time, I held my son on the dock, waiting for the ambulance to come, thinking that I didn't deserve such pleasure a boat could bring. Forget that it was a tragic accident. I can't fault myself for ensuring the boat locks in place properly.
"FUCK! Fuck that boat!" I shout, looking at it like it had a clue.
"Sir," a voice says to me out of the chaos of my own misery.
"What! What! Did you call the ambulance? Did anyone call a God damn ambulance," I shouted.
"Yes, we called. Let us take care of your truck and boat for you. We'll drive it all back to your house."
"Man, I am sorry. I don't care," I tossed him the keys, "take it all! I am done with it."
In that moment of holding my son in my arms, I did not think I deserved the peace and serenity such things should bring. Until I gazed off into the boat and saw my youngest son sleeping soundly on the back of the boat's bench seat. It gave me pause. Through the pain of one child and the peace of the other, I had to believe there was a happy medium. In this life, there had to be a way to find resoluteness in something considered a pleasure craft.
But where do I find the peace? Definitely not through the trauma of my baby boy while cradling him in my arms. The memory of what I saw was ingrained in my memory forever. How can I find the peace that my other son had as he slept through such disaster on the back of the boat?
Do I close my eyes and ignore life's troubles? But who wants to go through life blind?
In our moments of great despair, we search for hope that will allow us to tolerate such horrific moments. Whether it's tragic events, the loss of a loved one, or just having a bad day, you hope that people understand while you seek it out. But if you haven't lived it, you just don't trust that people will understand why someone continues to try and look for the good that allows the bad to recede in your memory so forgiveness can begin to seep in.
Like a dam, peace and hope can be held back, forcing you to endure the long-term pain. At the same time, the rest of what life has to offer backs up my senses and overloads my emotions, causing my wild emotions to affect those around me, thus eluding the peace I desire.
And yet bad things happen to us all, and most of us push through them. And even though we have proven to ourselves that we can accomplish acceptance through peace, we doubt who we are when tragedy revisits us. And there lies the demon:
The continuous infusion of bad news and tragic events compounds the lousy crap that seems to occur over and over again. I attempt to hold back this emotion by building a wall, but the lack of relief creates cracks until my feelings are backed up like a dam break. Strong, reckless emotion sometimes prevents us from achieving peace. We sorely need peace, but it never seems to come. That failure to release my vulnerability magnifies all the little things that make me miserable and leaves me relying on the hope that peace will eventually come.
My boat was my savior. My window to some peace on the water so she could help me bathe my misery away in the ocean's salty waves, cool breeze, and beautiful sunshine. But I felt she disrupted my Nirvana by interrupting any discussions with God that I think I could have. At the same time, I found relaxation in the ocean that seemed to crack my shell and set my emotions free to flow without restriction. I want to be vulnerable. Please, set me free. However, I was betrayed as my Diety took me down when I needed her the most. Preventing that emotional dam from breaking. I couldn't stomach looking at that freaking boat as she waded in the water by the docks. I held my son in my arms while we both sobbed, waiting for someone to rescue us. There is no peace in that.
I looked at the boat and saw the peace she was bringing to my youngest son as he slept in her. He was in her womb, and she carried him with grace and compassion as hell rained down upon me. I received no comfort at the same time she lightly rocked him back and forth, keeping him asleep, shielding him from the sight of his brother dealing with such pain. She brought him the peace and serenity I desired while I dealt with the sad and tragic events unfolding before me now.
As a parent, I'll sacrifice all my peace to shield my sons from the realities of life, even when life decides to spill over my dam and enter their world. Hopefully, one day, this dam will break, releasing the pain that is being held behind it. A little bit of peace will overflow into me, allowing us to enjoy the true happiness that we all desire without hoping to only shield them. Hopefully, this boat will still be the answer to our quality time together.
After all, there is nothing wrong with finding a little hope and peace in the deep blue sea to set you free.
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