Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Holding Hands in Hell

Maybe all I needed was for someone to sit with me in hell. Someone who didn't feel bad for me for once, but felt it with me. That's what brought me back. My wife. My kids. They suffered too. I wasn't alone in it. That is the difference between hope/survival and your own burial. There was a time I sat alone, at least in my own consciousness, in the fire. It burned white at times. Never has there been a hotter fire for me than the last year and a half. But in the fire I always held their hands. I had to go through it, I had no choice. Like some kid going through surgery that looks to their mothers for comfort. My wife and kids were there when I reached out my hand.

I am a proud man. I am not proud of my pride. I am ashamed of it. I work really hard to rid myself of it. But when your at the bottom of what you can handle, you scream for help. I did. I reached out my hand and my daughter grabbed it and put a little pink plastic heart in it. My wife wrapped her arms around my neck and wouldn't let me go, even when I asked her to. My son kept me from collapse. He asked me questions persistently, like "Is Will coming back? or Promise I won't die?" He still asks if he is gonna die every night before bed a year and a half later. What do you tell a kid that asks that? They will die and may die whenever God sees fit. I tell him no. I will see him in the morning, even if the morning is when the sun rises in Heaven.

It's just been a tough couple of days. I can't really express it, just engulfing. This feeling of helplessness in life and in my faith. I cannot control anything. This gives me comfort most of the time because I am a screw up, but days like these have been somber... it drives me to mourning the things I will lose and cannot control.  There have been very few people who could see beyond what I let them see, but my brother was one of them. Not because he could see beyond the lies I was showing, but because I never felt the need to lie at all, which is priceless to me. To have a person listen without judgement and offer support even when he knows I am wrong. I am not saying it is a good thing to have flattering lips, but it is nice to have someone that won't allow you to be hurt. Very few of them around. I am so blessed that my wife, even when she drives me crazy has my heart in her hands. She protects it with her life. If is stops beating, she picks up it's rhythm herself. She is tenacious in keeping me alive.


Photo credit to: http://mandragolaa.deviantart.com

Thanks for reading...Z