I turned onto my street, my mind already five steps ahead and making up Kendell’s lunch for the next school day. It took a moment for the flashing lights and scurrying of traffic on my road to dig through the layers of exhaustion. As awareness shook the sleep from its eyes, I still didn’t register the activity as having anything to do with me. I was busy, busy with my own personal tragedy, these lights were not mine.
Yet as I drove closer, my house yet not in view… I knew. I knew the way you know your own thoughts; I knew deep in my entrails and down to my soul.
I could feel my heart pounding its way up my throat as my stomach nose dived down into my toes. I pulled the car over without thinking and tugged a sleeping Kendell into my arms. I left my car running, my purse inside. I walked the block to my home as if through water.
I made it past four emergency response vehicles, over two fire hoses, and past several firefighters before someone caught a hold of me. It was December 18th, the night was beautiful in its cold winter starkness, the stars a vast hopscotch path against the blanket of black cloudless sky. I had let Buddy outside, just a pup at three months, to enjoy that crisp December night while I was at the hospital with my mom.
People were talking to me, the frigid air biting at my exposed arms, and Kendell began to cry, yet none of these things seemed to register. I saw only the house. God could not be this cruel, this was not real.
“Mam”.
Mam! You can’t go in there!”
I turned to the voice, why was this man yelling at me? “I live here”, Floated out my lips, though I don’t recall making any effort to answer him. “Where’s our dog? “We have a dog, he’s big, but he’s just a puppy.” “Buddy!” I yelled, looking around absently, in no real hurry.
“You’re scaring the boy. You can’t go in there.” I looked at his hand, a gentle restraint on my arm. Didn’t they know that I had enough to deal with? This fire must belong to someone else.
The world rushed back with an audible pop and for the first time I smelled the smoke, felt the bite of the winters wind and the noise of rushing firemen shouting out orders assaulted my ears with such sudden clarity, I winced from the pain of it.
I turned away from the house, stumbled out to the street again and into the fire chief who took me to our neighbors. The night remained pregnant inside me, emotions for the moment swallowed up like the pictures on the walls of our home, buried beneath layers of smoke and debris.
I don’t think of that night much. To many “what ifs” haunt me when I do. I think from time to time I’m over that night, moved on the way I moved my family. Packed what was left in small boxes and bags and put away those things that were not comfortable to look at anymore.
I thought it was behind me till I drove down the road to our home this week and saw flashing red lights. My heart climbed the wall of my chest and threatened to burst out between my lips. My arms and legs started to tremble, ache, and the heat of a fire from three years ago rushed to my face and enflamed my nerve endings. I drew closer and the large vehicle finally registered to my brain as I watched the garbage truck empty our trash and drive away.
Some ghosts don’t haunt you daily, they lie in wait.
Times where words slip carelessly from my mouth, ugly words, aimed like darts at the back of unsuspecting people; my son bearing silent witness.
He sees the best and the worst of me; he knows me better then any other will ever in my life. I am his role model, his disciplinarian, his champion, his mother.
I lay awake at night wondering if the things he takes from me are the ugly and profane. If my example has been for intolerances, impatience, and anger instead of love, compassion, and faith. I try to be more for him, but I am only a person, my feet clay.
I long to rid myself of every nasty word, habit, look; if only to show him what I want him to be, who I know him to be.
Then there are days, where the sun is shinning on his blue black hair. His eyes glint with determination and he is a leader to his peers. Days when he has the wisdom to know when to follow; days where the man shines through the boy, and I know that no matter how I have stumbled and fallen; he is, and will always be,
the best of me.
Happy birthday Boo.
Mommy
7 Things About Me
1. I'm an avid reader, must have a book at all times! I even read in the shower...which makes returning books to the library awkward.
2. I say, "You know what I mean?" several times during a conversation. I guess I don't really think anyone is listening and this is my way to check.
3. I'm a zealot when it comes to Kendells sports, love to watch them. I'm that loud mouthed, obnoxious mother you look at and roll your eyes. One day I believe I will be thrown out of his game due to telling the Ref what a crap call he just made.
4. I'm a weird mixture of shy and funny. I'm very reserved when I first meet you, but once you're my friend I'll do my best to have you rolling. I like nothing better then making someone laugh.
5. I'm the youngest of five kids, but only one sibling lives in the same state with me. Though this sibling makes me feel like I'm more of a burden, then a sister to them. Since my mom died, I've never felt so isolated or alone in this world. I don't really feel like I have any family anymore
6. I'm not the person I thought I would be, and not the person I used to be. I still wonder who I am becoming and when the people who knew me before will let me be her.
7. I snort when I laugh...seriously, can you think of a less attractive laugh???
Maybe I should try this again when I'm in a better mood? Ah well, so be it.
Because nuttin says "Happy Holidays" like some 12-Gauge Christmas Lights! So yer better be gettin sum for your shack, ya hear!
