Saturday morning’s sunrise had beautiful phases of color and texture. Here’s image #4:
Archive for September, 2010
They still creep in sometimes.
Those dark tentacles, those poisonous appendages of the declawed monster that once held me in its unyielding grip.
Nobody sees the invisible fingers as they snake up from my subconscious, ascending like smoke to cloud the mind and darken the spirit.
“You really are worthless,” they whisper. “Your life is a waste…it’s all for nought.”
Fainter than before, but still in earshot, the corrosive chant of “Failure…” echoes dimly from the recesses.
There’s a twisted logic at times to the irrational accusations, and an unfortunate affinity that the poison-thoughts find in the despair-shaped spaces of my soul (which they once occupied unopposed). Having lost its grip on my spirit, depression does not give up the field readily when there is a fresh opportunity for battle, a new opening for psychological warfare.
As the sun exists to spread light and joy, so the poisoners have only one intent – to drag down and smother. To isolate, and wear down with threatening clouds of angst.
There can be only one response. A decisive, defiant slamming of that basement door. Opening the windows, letting the tendrils of smoke drift away, while attending to people and things that matter (and if you’re not “there” yet, able to do battle – Get Some Help).
They had enough of my time. No more. Begone.
Twenty-two years ago today, he emerged – bluish-grey, not breathing, making his feverishly-paced entrance in the world via emergency C-section.
Nate was our first-born, and for a first-time Mom and Dad, it was a scary and shaky start.
Now we sit together with a beer and watch college football games on Saturday afternoons. And for someone who had a near-death entry into life, Nate turned out pretty normal (I say “pretty normal” because he is, after all, a Woodruff)!
As a first-born governed by inexperienced parents, we had our rough patches, of course – one main reason being that he was wired with a creative soul, and his practical and structured parents took forever to understand that he lives on a different wavelength. First it was music, then it was film…tangible evidence of his giftedness. Nate’s creative ears and eyes emerged early on as his strong suit.
As parents, you become keenly aware of each child’s makeup – weaknesses and strengths – and as Nate got deeper into the teen years, a new and surprising strength came to the fore – a growing ease with people. Neither of his parents are particularly outgoing, but Nate (and his next-in-line brother, Dave, now a Marine) both became very easygoing with people. Generous, tuned-in, and fiercely loyal.
Yes, parents are to teach and mold their kids. But then you find out that you’re destined to learn from them as well. It’s a secret bonus.
Now, we have adult conversations. We’ve come to understand and respect one another in deeper ways. For Dad, standing beside a grown-up son while grilling and shooting the breeze is immensely rewarding. At 2 and at 7 and at 12 and at 17, it’s full-on shepherding and supervising. I wasn’t the most relaxed Dad at the time. But now, it’s time to fire up the smoker in anticipation of his birthday party, and smiling at the thought of his company. Because I not only love Nate, I like him, too!
Happy birthday, son!