Lost and Found Beyond Tears
Writing is a tool for relieving the pressures of life. Bear with me as I work some things out.
My soul aches for freedom as invisible chains slowly tighten, binding me to my fate. Tears no longer form; the well is dry. Circumstances have created an imbalance. Obligations are heavier than dreams. I can feel my despair building deep inside my chest, rising up and collecting into a mass that threatens to choke out everything that once defined me.
The smoldering black smoke of once brightly shining dreams rise from the burned-out ash at my feet. The swirling reminders of my failures enter my body with each breath and fill my lungs with a suffocating anguish. Everyone and no one are sorry. The sacrifices I make allow others to turn away and live life freely.
Empathy dictates my path and uses me up. The choice is made by my own hand, my conscience knows the difference between right and wrong. The cost of meeting the needs of others is depleting me. Life floats out of reach into space as I grow weary of my existence. To survive in my world, I fear I must die and be resurrected as someone I don’t wish to be. Survival may depend on the assimilation of my core into society’s collective norm.
I am beaten down and defeated by the world. Fight and determination are waning exponentially as people need more, and more, and more; my conscience has chosen my place of servitude. I don’t know how to balance dreams and obligations and I am lost beyond my tears. In between the waves drowning my soul, I gasp for air and reach for my life preserver.
Are my meager efforts to achieve my goals extending the life or the death of my dreams? Is the act of trying synonymous with persistence or foolishness?
Alas, this too shall pass, and anguish will give way to acceptance. The clouds will drift by with the passage of time and sunshine will be the reward for patience. My soul calms as a sense of purpose rises from the ashes. I know the difference between right and wrong … and that’s a good thing.
Though others may benefit from my actions, the choice remains mine. My life is how I make it. Obligations are heavier than dreams. The weight of responsibility shines a light on character and ignites emotions. Fulfilling obligations lifts that heavy weight and fills the heart with the knowledge that sacrifice is worthy. Contentment rises from promises honored.
Time and circumstance affect, but do not decide, the history of me. Reflections of my past are for me to create. Darkness reveals the brightest of lights. Aspirations provide direction, but empathy is the muse found beyond my tears.
Originally published at Medium.com on 4-30-2019.
No Sir, You Are Not a Burden
Parents never stop being a role model to their children. Respecting the value of the elderly is an important element of the circle of life.
Wearily slumped over in a wheelchair, the elderly man I see is tired and filled with despair. His wrinkled face rests in calloused hands as the anguish inside of him gives way to tears. He is uncertain of the future and has lost the pride and strength of his past. He has forgotten the importance of his history and sees no purpose in his present. His dependence on others leaves him believing he is a burden, his confidence eroding bit by bit with each reluctant request for help. His journey is not solitary though he feels detached from the world that flows around him.
Many others travel along this same path. A fact of life that brings little comfort to protect against the fear and sadness that infiltrates his heart and mind. He clings to the memory of who he was, not realizing the value of who he is. Raise your head, look in my eyes and allow me to sincerely remind you of your worth. You never stop being a role model to your children. The strength and determination you have exhibited as time rages an assault on your flesh continue to inspire the lives you touch.
The person you were is not who you see in the mirror, but the man you remember is not gone. That man is alive in the kind heart, the moral fiber and the mindful fortitude of the children he nurtured into conscientious adults. Your generation has guided my generation through temper tantrums and teenage angst, preparing us for the responsibilities of adulthood. In childhood we emulated you, in young adulthood, we admired your work ethic and commitment to family and community.
The sacrifices you made to serve your country and your family were not in vain. As sons, husbands, and fathers, your generation has laid the groundwork for who we are. Your unwavering diligence to remain on the path of integrity and honor has not gone unnoticed. The mark you have made on the world is a solid foundation of principled reliability.
We see you. We know you. And our memories are long.
The legacy that you will leave behind is not that of a weak man. We come from strong people. Are you a burden? No sir, you are not a burden and you are not alone. Your presence continues to add value to our lives as you accept life with grace and dignity. Dry your tears and hold your head high. Be proud of your hard-earned wrinkles and confident in the strength of your calloused hands.
It is an honor and a privilege to stand beside you. The watchful eyes of the next generations are upon us as we follow in your footsteps, shaping their character as they journey along the path to adulthood.
Originally published at Medium.com on 4-15-2019.