Last night, a feeling of calm washed over me that I haven’t felt in a long time. I have grown to completely distrust this feeling. It seems that after the calm inevitably comes the storm. Perhaps the calm is a warning that the storm is coming and a reminder of the storms that I have weathered in the past and came through maybe a little windblown but still intact.  For now, I will enjoy the calm and patiently await the next storm.

You say that I’m the one to blame

For giving you my trust.

I’ll take the fault, I’ll take the blame

If you feel I must.

It is my fault. I gave you wings

To soar if you could in life.

I knew the risks, the dangerous things

That lead to heartache and strife.

So fly away, if you must

Yet, remember if you will.

A cold hard task to regain one’s trust

Even if I love you still.

If a time should come when you need someone to ease your pain or dry your tears,

Remember my child, I shall be here with all my love through all my years.

Weary of mind, weary of body, weary of soul.

I am left with unanswerable questions.

You wandered off to paths that none should tread.

Searching for treasures

Finding nothing

Losing all.

Forsaking the sunlit paths, you chose the darkness.

Gazing into that darkness, I grow numb.

I send you hope to find the light once more. 

The storm has passed. The sky is quieted. The howling wind has blown away. The crack of thunder has dulled to a slow sonorous rumble. The hailstones lay upon the ground. Their presence slowly melting away from memory. Only the soft patter of raindrops falling from the leaves remain to give credence to the fury that has departed. I stand upon the grass, thankful for the passing of the storm, bathed in calm.

I sat with the gun in my hand peering vacantly into the dark.

Thinking of all the reasons to be gone.

I sat with the gun in my hand peering vacantly into the dark.

Thinking of all the reasons to stay.

I sat with the gun in my hand and the dawn painted light upon the horizon.

I put the gun away. The Dawn had given me all the reason to stay.

Years ago, after a difficult breakup with my then fiancee, I stayed up all night drinking and wondering how everything had gone so wrong. Early that morning, I found myself parked on the side of a lonesome road with a loaded .357 and all intentions of ending my life. By chance or fate or some higher purpose, I was facing the dawn. When the dawn arose, I found that I could not bring about my end at the start of a new day. I do not remember anything in particular that happened that day, but each day seemed easier to live. So much has happened in my life since then and I am thankful for that dawn so long ago. I was reminded of this today. I wish that everyone that experiences the loss of hope could see their dawn.

I awoke in the coolness of the early spring morning. The warmth of the night forgotten in the penetrating cold. Seeking comfort I softly turned and embraced your warmth. Muttering you turned me away. Sleep did not come on the cool side of the bed. Comfort nowhere to be found.

I have had a hard time awakening. My dreams seem to grow in color and texture as the night progresses. Sometimes they are horrific visions that suck me down to a depth seemingly inescapable. At times, they are filled with erotic frolics where awakening is painful, the very ripping of the fabric of the dream seems to shatter a much more beautiful world than the one I live upon awakening.

Yet the alarm sounds and I tear myself from my dreams embrace and embark upon my day. Too soon the dreams fade and everyday life shatters all but a thin fog of the remembrance of the dream. But at the end of the day sleep beckons and my dreams live on.

Good night and good dreams.

 Yesterday was gray. One of those days where the gray seeps down and caresses the tops of the trees. The clouds did not give up their rain but left a slickness of moisture upon the land. As I sat in my backyard sipping hot chocalate feeling it’s fragrant warmth against my face with every sip, I could think of nothing better for an autumn morning than a cool gray day.

My son has Asperger’s Syndrome. At home, he is a loving child but out in the world, he is extremely shy, does not speak unless spoken to and then seems frightened; as if any answer that he gives will be wrong and something that he fears will be punished.

I worry about him. Will he grow out of it? My wife and I have provided him with counseling, therapy, and homeopathic medicines but nothing seems to really help. The counselor is now suggesting putting him on medication. I have been reticent about medicating him but now it seems that we are down to this final solution.

I have always thought that as a nation we are over-medicating our children. That sometimes people are too quick to medicate children to put them in a mold of what children should be. I am scared of side effects and wonder if I would be hurting his natural development. But in the end I realize that he needs help and I should not hold the medication back.

Since my son was very small, he and I have had a little game. I will start out by saying, ‘Who loves ya baby.’ He will reply, ‘You do, Dad.’ Then I will question, ‘Why?’ He will then answer, ‘Because you just do.’ The love between a father and a son is just that. It doesn’t have to have a reason. It’s just there.

I know that I will not always be here. One day my life will end and he will carry on. What kind of man will he be? Will he have grown to have the confidence needed to defend himself from all the world can throw at a person or will he still be that shy child fearful of the world. There lies my trepidation.