The Prey – On My Knees
Father’s Day was punctuated by being punched in the gut. This awful fight continued for years. Ten. The minimal advertisements sounding off the airwaves on TV, radio and elsewhere leading up to the ‘holiday’ celebration ambushed delicate emotions; all such cues sparked heightened anxiety and gut-wrenching dread. Already, I have fallen prey to the day. If your experiences are far better, then remind yourself to be notably thankful. But, if Father’s Day has been besieged or you are otherwise embattled by grief, then don’t face the conflict alone in that vein of struggle. The agony is surmountable. And maybe if I should tell you my story, that could help you, or someone. Allow me to share my weathered boots to hopefully provide a platform for you to walk-through the takedown and as kick-starting aid for a strong recovery.
On any day, I was on the brink of tears if anything randomly triggered my memory. Leading up to Dad’s Day, without escape I sought to find a head start for releasing the tears — desperately needing a psychological slow simmer to efficiently alleviate any surge and avoid grand slam crying when the day arrived. On that day, it seemed well-suited that taking a nap could at least ease hyperventilating and somewhat rebalance cognitive functions. But, most often, trepidation brought me to my knees; that’s the fallout phase after curling up in bed and carrying on with screaming sessions into the pillow. Have you ever felt that excruciating pain in the abdomen, as though your intestines had begun twisting knots and roping your stomach with a slow and steady grind? Father’s Day buildup. Me, sludging through life’s longest decade. The best breathing techniques cannot exhale that kind of affliction.
However, hold your breath for a little while. Pardon my manners. This bout was not exactly the pattern
“Find a place that nourishes your soul and go there often.” The line was posted by a friend on Facebook and it captured my attention. It echoes my every day desire for more off this, less of that. Yes, that’s it!
How often do you get into the mood where you don’t wanna be bothered?
Then, what do you do about it? A thought to ponder. Certainly, there are responsibilities and obligations such as family, work, … and life, but what really moves you? We all have a story. Let’s go there, later.
Mom wasn’t home. Perfect. In fact, mom was nowhere within the range of home – she was completely off the island and off to New York, with dad. Yay, freedom! My big brother Ron, was in charge — somewhat. Actually, everyone knew proper discipline and the unwritten family rules,
Unearthed a book this morning on my nightstand, which I do remember purchasing for a dollar on sale at the local library, a while ago. Hence, for a while now, it was sitting on that night table in my trough of good intentions. A flyer topped it, then two exercise bands received last week from the 5k Walk & Health Fair, rested lazily atop the flyer — all part of my towering things to do list. If ever a thing seems out of place, it’s there for the reason to stand out. See, I’m incredibly well organized. Don’t laugh, because chances are, you might be guilty of tsundoku too. Personally, that’s part of my strategic planning process.
So I unveiled and picked up that book to read a bit this morning, because it is Saturday. I have some idle time to discover anew why these pages came into my life. Naturally, I opened straight to the back of the book where the flap of the cover was folded-in to (obviously) mark a page.
Find me cavorting in the infinite bliss of simply floating in the clear, calm waters of the Caribbean sea. Actually, don’t rush to come looking.
I stare out on the turquoise blue ocean and feel my heart glistening. The sultry kiss of unadulterated sea breeze simply took my breath away. But, I didn’t need to breathe, my heart knew the rhythm to go.
Sailing away aboard a majestic RC cruise ship, sitting in the library with a good book and the vast expanse beaming back.