One push of the button...

It sometimes feels as if the words in this blog have been strung together in a single story.  This is a story that began as a challenge to write and has evolved to into an expression of me and my impression of things around me.  If, like me, your vision has been tainted by the many experiences pleasant and unpleasant and you have had numerous dialogs where the only participant is yourself than you may appreciate this more than many.

I can never explain the joy and elation I felt when my son was born.  It is said that a father develops a bond with his children over time, however for me, the first time I set eyes on my son the connection was instant.  My heart burst forth with love for him and every time I looked at him and into his eyes it reminded me of the love that I had for him and also, at the time, the most important person in my life, his mother.  That she could have born and nurtured a son of mine inside of her, is indeed a gift from the Most High so sublime.  When I saw him for the first time tears of joy filled my eyes and I held on to his mother expressing my thanks for the life that she bore, that she had nurtured our beautiful son and my love for her.

How do I explain when she came and told me that the very fabric of my existence was ripped apart.  That emotionally my world ceased to be.  That the pain was so much I cried for days. That I sat in a room for two weeks staring at the TV not wanting to face the world least it be ripped apart by my condition.  That all I wanted to do was to drive off and leave everything behind and never be found, a lonely wanderer on a lonely road to nowhere.  That for all intents and purposes I was dead to the world and my life ceased to be in every sense of the word with the exception of the physical.  My heart was in shreds and at the time it seemed impossible to heal.

And what about love?  When my heart fills with love it does so to the point of pain and it feels as though it cannot possibly contain this emotion.  Love has been my saving grace.  The memory of love, in those very dark hours, and the memory of holding or just touching someone I love, coupled with the intense love I feel for my son and the fact that I yearn for him with every fiber of my being. Love dragged me back from the precipice and filled my heart with hope.

I have seen many writings on love, and this is mine.  Love and the promise of love is what saved me.  Go forth and never loose hope, love is waiting ;-)

Comments

  1. UnknownMay 16, 2010 at 11:31 AM

    Raw and deep, so honest and pure. Another great piece.

    ReplyDelete

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