“Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near, I’ve got to find out why?
Those gentle voices I hear, explain it all with a sigh.
I’m looking at myself reflections of my mind,
It’s just the kind of day to leave myself behind.
So gently swaying through the fairyland of love,
If you’ll just come with me you’ll see the beauty of
Tuesday afternoon, Tuesday afternoon.”
Tuesday Afternoon– The Moody Blues
I have been scared more than a few times in my life, but there are really only a few moments where I can say that I was truly afraid. Two of them involve my children and one my father.
As I sit here staring a the screen I am fighting to come up with the right words to describe the distinction between being scared and afraid. The best I can come up with is to say that when I was afraid it was like an electric shock that went through my entire body and a feeling of dread.
Dread and a certainty that if the monster looming in the dark came for me I would lose the fight. It/he/she would swallow my soul, eat my heart and shred my sanity into tiny pieces that I would forever search for. I know, it sounds like ridiculous hyperbole, but you have to understand that I think in graphic images.
I am the dreamer whose imagination can conceive of the impossible. Why do you think that I enjoy writing so much. It exercises a piece of me that has endless amounts of energy.
And I suppose that you can blame some of this upon my own ego. The crazy man who believes that somehow, some way he can overcome almost anything. As I have said many times, give me my sword and place me front of the castle. None shall pass.
But those things that truly frightened me reach into a darker place inside my being. They tap into the insecurity and the whispers that suggest that maybe I have the support of illusions of grandeur. Maybe all I have is a mirage that I have created while sailing upon the sea of denial.
And more to the point, they attacked the weakest part of my being. I am no different than any other parent. My children are my greatest joy and were something to happen to them I would be someone other than who I am today. I dare not say who or what. I am glad to not know, especially as I know a number of parents who have lost a child..
It is a curious adventure, this journey as a father. A mix of the mundane and the mystical. A cross of the chaotic and the curious. There are moments where I have screamed in frustration and rage. Moments where I have wondered if I was going to spend my time just passing through life. And of course interspersed have been those magical moments where they do things to inspire and fill my heart with joy.
How curious this thing we call life. It has been everything I ever expected and more.