It is as an ordinary day in March. So unremarkable, that it is difficult for me to
recall details, only feelings. Yes, it is
sunny, a slight swirling wind, still crisp bite of air in the 40’s. Definitely no rain. I am walking to the athletic club to undergo
spinning to exhaustion. Definitely unprepared for the unexpected.
There is a lightness to my step, more athletic than feathery. Not just less poundage and less pounding. But an undeniable spring, hang time and
softness to each advance. I check it so
as not to skip, trip or appear inebriated.
A rhythm in motion. Kohala plays in my ear.
And then something happens. A visceral sensation begins to well up. Not with a rumble or roar. Not as a gush or geyser. But gently, like a fresh cold spring bubbling from
deep within earth’s cisterns. It first fills,
then flushes and then overflows, wave laps over wave. These vital fluids long lost, now cleanse and
invigorate me … I’m alive! I’m happy!
So why? I reflect.
It has been six years of Teri’s unrelenting illness, unceasing
circadian father care, unending end of life challenges, and still incomplete estate
resolution. I am not yet free to move on. Though I work and exercise, I have regained my ability to laugh, feel, engage ...
Is it the light at the end of work tunnel … Not there yet, and so much to do before I
take that next step.
Is it the hard effort of shedding my burdensome lifelong maternal and
paternal baggage. Partly. The EMDR finally, finally, finally has calmed
my inner turmoil.
Is it coming to accept my fate as conscripted caretaker while
watching my peaking career fall into ‘suspended academiation’? Partly. And it forced an appropriate reappraisal
of my (paternally acquired) achievement-only focus.
Is it is the increasing closeness with the kids, their
significant others, and the grand kids? Oh
yea.
Is it the woman?
Still too early to tell.
Am I healed? Am I at
peace? I don’t know, it’s a process, it’s
ongoing. But I’m better, much better. I've learned a lot from processing Teri's subtle example on mindful living. I've become more balanced, calmer. And I reached a place where those tortuous flames
within have finally been quenched, and now the water that flows is potable. I can taste its delicate freshness, drink it, bathe in it, frolic in it, and live ...
Today happens to be our wedding anniversary.
