Cut From the Same Cloth

By Lee Ann Walker

1/12/12

Years ago a man made life's greatest decision to share his name and a piece of him by having a child. The child born a male with bright blue eyes and blonde hair represented all of this father’s hopes and dreams. He hoped his son would be smart, loving, full of life, and have the tenacity that would bring him all of life's riches. As the years passed he watched his boy become a man, and he realized no matter the distance that kept them apart, nor circumstance, no matter the situation that separated them too early, he knew his son was cut of the same cloth.

He watched his son serve a country in honor, he admired his ability to learn his trade, and enjoy the blood of happiness and love when his son met his divine soul mate in life. This father knew he had done all he could to provide his son with life's purpose and direction. He knew it all had come true the moment he saw his grandchild for the first time, it was then that any doubt about the type of man he had fathered washed away with the tide of uncertainty. His son was just like him. This father raised a child into a man who gave more to this life than he ever asked for, his riches came in the blessing of a prosperous life. This father knew his son became a great man, a commonality they both shared.

This father should know his son loves him dearly, talks of him often, and admires to be all that his father is. This son is thankful for his father each day and even though the miles are between them, there isn't a day he doesn't think about him. He thanks his father for giving him the cloth of life and his name to carry on for his son. The tradition of fatherhood lives strong in their hearts and minds, and now through another generation. This father set good examples and lived by an ethical code that provided many rules, but most of all it provided a unity greater than any other, a bond between this father and son.

Take in peace and comfort knowing his son who will take life's greatest challenges head on and steadfast knowing his castle has been built of brick and mortar and will not faulter to the  hard stones of life pelting the walls,  for his cloth is much too great.

Craig and Lawson

I see you

You stand next to me but yet it is as though you are not there. You hug me and it feels as if your arms are  ribbons of air that surround me but never touch me. I am desperate to feel anything, but I am void. You are there, I see you, yet I am so lonely. The darkness licks at my weaknesses like wounds that a dog tends to after a fight he has lost to a better opponent. The darkness is trying to protect me, but doesn’t realize it is devouring my moments of happiness with its’ mission to destroying the moments of pain. You look at me with such devotion, yet there is a barrier preventing me from feeling it, soaking it in, I am trapped by my body trying to protect me from feeling pain yet it prevents me from feeling joy, I am screaming to get out, yet you do not hear me, all that I try to do to escape the darkness that pulls me in like a bad tug of war over quicksand fails, repeats, limiting escape. Such despair such agony. I want to reach out to you, yet my hand will not move, I want to whisper the words of eternal love and thankfulness, yet my mouth won’t open.

I sit in a glass jar with a lid screwed on so tight by the hand of darkness, I am able to see the world around me, yet unable to truly touch it, see it, feel it, enjoy it. How do I break this glass and escape a body that is trying so hard to help me forget, to protect me from my actions, to protect me from the past pain, but yet does not know when to stop. It is a runaway car. They call it depression, I call it a trap. At one time in my life I embraced it,  allowing it to limit my memories, emotions, and preventing me from feeling. But now, I want it to go away and leave me alone. It is like a darkness that comes from behind like a desperate shadow trying to match its form to the right person. Sneaking up on you when you least expect it. Lurking.

            I was asked once what does it feel like, depression. I know now that many don’t understand this sickness. It feels like you have been kidnapped, blindfolded, and placed in a room of darkness. You are afraid to move because you are not aware of where you are or what is in the room with you. Echoes, voices, whispers fill your brain, flashes of light, visions of horror scenes scattered across the walls, but not of a fictitious nature but of your past moments of pain. You are shoved to the ground by a bullying darkness and feel a heavy weight residing on your chest, suffocating you, then water filling your nostrils, torturing your lungs, then it stops, but only for a moment. You hear a bell - ding ding - round two, this time it feels like demons are grabbing at you with fingers of razors cutting into your flesh, loud cackles, pinching you so hard breaking blood vessels in your delicate skin, pulling your hair and slinging you around, hitting you in the head with knuckles of steal.  You fight to break free.

Then it stops, you find your way to your feet searching for the wall that moments before held visions of torture, through the sheets of darkness, then the darkness kicks you in the back so hard your breathe expels from your tiny body. With the help of the darkness, you have found the wall with some blunt force trauma, only to find it is hot to the touch and coated in nails stabbing your hands and burning your soft flesh. You banter with yourself that this is hell, almost giggling in denial that is could get any worse. The voices get louder almost screaming, you grab your head, cover your ears and kneel down, and you begin to scream too. You scream so long your throat is hoarse and your vocal cords are challenged to continue, your head feels like it has been split in half with a guillotine and your tears come so fast spilling over like a tumultuous sea breaking free from a perfect storm, you feel sick, nauseous. Then at the final moment you seek death to provide a source of comfort, a bright light breaks through the wall, blinding you, how long have you been in here? Only the sane will know. The light, well the light is one of two things. Medication firing the nervous system, that went on an impromptu vacation, into action. Or, the love of a very strong person who has given themselves to help you get better, devoting their strength to your weakness. It is your soul mate.

I see you, I feel lonely. Is the darkness coming back? Be strong for me, you are my medication. I will be back. I seek freedom. I will remember you, your love will be my hope that keeps my soul alive in the dark room. I love you.

My boys.

The Power of Thought

From the thoughts in my mind that imprison my soul, suffocating the spirit that wants to swaddle my body in life’s hopes and dreams, I resist the dungeon of dread and fight to stiffen my thoughts to break the chains that bind. I will walk free into the light, free, allowing my spirit to cleanse me of the wrong and fill me with the right. The right to know, do, and want better for myself and all others who struggle with the darkness that looms waiting to pounce on the weakness and drain the innocence.