Archive for June, 2011

…do us part

Posted: June 30, 2011 in Rambles


Completely dead and I didn’t care.

I stared down as the life slowly flickered out, helpless to do anything to stop the inevitable. I tried all I could, with half an effort; yet, as it made its last blink and completely expired, I breathed a sigh of relief. I hesitated to tell anyone because I knew they would think me insane, cruel even, but I just couldn’t help it.

What once brought me a plethora of joy, now, only reminded me of torture. The pure debilitating torment that scratched through my emotions every time I saw its face brighten up. I entertained thoughts of ending its life on my own, but I knew my reasoning was illogical, not to mention the explanation process.

So when it finally died, on its own, and was completely cut off from the world, life re-entered my body. I was cut off from the razor-grating afflictions that it brought forth. I walked away and smiled, allowing my cell phone to enjoy the burial ceremony in the middle of my bed.

Knowing I couldn’t allow the phone to sit and decay, I eventually drove it to the morgue. I quietly waited as I knew I would have to explain the cause of its death. Further, I would have to disguise my excuse of why I didn’t seek help at the onset of trouble.

On the outside I told tales of how it slowly shut down; yet, I did all I could to hold onto it. I spoke of how I loved it. I, unsuccessfully, tried to force a tear into the crevice of my eye to depict my thorough regret for its passing; however, my inner honesty dried it up.

I hated the phone.

I cursed the day Alexander Graham Bell implanted such a burden on my life.  Had he known the evils of call waiting, three-way, text messages and internet connections, I doubt he would have gone a step further. The idea dying with the friction it was yet to inflict.

I longed for the days of snail mail, messenger pigeons and king signet deliveries – the handwritten emotions that were backed by thought and true consideration.  The closing salutations sparking your heart and causing your fingers to ache as you mercilessly marked up the paper, hoping your true feelings could take color within the black ink blots on the page.

I stood and waited for my phone’s final dissension into the pit and lingered on the possibility of permanent cancelled access due to unjustifiable payment demands they would try to place upon me. The cell phone coroner spoke:

“We will have to order you another one. For Free. But it may be refurbished.”

I turned away and smiled once more, my thoughts wrapping me into comfort:

Another day cut off from its world.

I sat on my bed, the cell phone’s previous ceremonial wake spot, and thumbed thoughts of what could be:

Maybe something totally new, an upgrade. Or maybe something that doesn’t have the ability to accept phone calls. Or maybe something black so that I will always be in mourning looking at it, knowing the distress it brings me. Maybe, just maybe, they won’t have anything at all.

I slowly returned to the coroners to see what the verdict would be. I patiently waited as my heart sank into my stomach plagued with the emotions of all the things that would flood back into my existence. I cringed at the thought of being connected to its evils once again. I detested the familiar sounds, clicks and chimes that only brought me agony.

And then they placed it before me.

My eyes scanned over it, surveying every part of its covering. The shiny cover showed no wounds of the past and the texture felt disturbingly smooth. As I ran my fingers over the buttons, they were firm and bounced back at me as if reassuring me things would be okay. And although it was the same color, make and model of the deceased, I could encompass the difference. When I saw my reflection in the screen, I could see our similarities.

On the outside things seemed the same. They even looked the same. But, the differences had set in.

I could see the pain behind my eyes fading away as I embraced the forgiveness of God and ultimately of myself. I could hear the songs of a future and better tomorrows as the keys whispered back at me, licking my every wound.  And finally, I could see the emotional masochist within me being shooed away as laughter broke through my parted lips.

My phone rang.

I inherently felt myself cringe as the foreign number displayed itself on the screen before the sound was emitted. I waited for that torment, that chime that let me know its [the phone’s] world was pressing through again.

I braced myself.

The sound came through.

It was nothing I had ever heard before. A sound I had not programmed and soon threw myself to change.

I brought the phone closer to my eyes, diving into concentration. I paused:


I smirked as I slipped the phone into my pocket and whispered under my breath:

”Not this time…”

As the unfamiliar chime continued on, now resembling a sweet melody, it transmitted a hearty pep in my step.

I walked away as I smiled throughout my body:

Yes! We are so very different!

I like us!

I’ve Had My Moments…

Posted: June 18, 2011 in Rambles

Before our eyes met, I could only see the neatly placed hairs atop of the head. With only the profile visible, my heart slowed searching for the padding that it would eventually come to rest in after receiving an oversight. I knew the painful blow would not be intentional but, nevertheless, I braced myself for the temporary hurt that would invade my soul, my white blood cells helpless to defend against the painful intrusion. I mentally coached myself:

…too young to understand. You know they love you. They weren’t the ones who placed the pain there…

I waited. I braced myself. My bottom lip wedged itself between my teeth.

The old Cheers theme song states, “Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they’re ALWAYS glad you came.”

I didn’t know if they even knew my real name, and with it being my first journey into their new territory, I had no idea where their mood would be placed. Cemented to the ground, I waited.

Our eyes met.

Before I could offer my salutations his fifteen inch legs cascaded into a full sprint, his arms joining along fighting against the distance between us. His face lit up as if he were the sun and I the anticipatory flower waiting to bloom. And as he repeatedly called my name, a name that he and his brother adapted for me, I blossomed.

I stood motionless; arms outstretched waiting to embrace my nephew as a flood of doubt washed from my mind. And when finally we were within a reasonable distance, he embraced my neck as if letting go me would cause me to fall apart, he being my saving glue, and I locked my arms around him, careful not to squeeze the life out of the human being that was giving life to me.

As if someone had taken a Clorox Wipe to my soul, he washed away the guilty stains of my worries. In that moment nothing else mattered. A sensation of the hand of God extending from Heaven absolving me of everything filthy… absolving me of everything parasitic… absolving me of everything not …Me.

As the visit progressed and my nephew kicked me, hit me in the face, spit on me with close proximity conversations and spilled stuff on me, the sensation was always there. No matter what the circumstance I chose to live in that moment.

So, why not live in those moments daily?

A kind word, an unexpected smile, a genuine hello, a soul touching hug or a valuable lesson.

It seems weird, to me, that kindness is the minority of life. Gossip spreads like a wildfire. Grudges are contagious and everyone seems to want to dig up dirt on another in hopes to rise a little higher by their own standards. By the end of their quest they are buried in a muddy pit of resentment of their own creation.

Meanwhile, genuine kindness dissipates like mist in the wind, often times never seen or felt and, on occasion, all together shunned.

But even so, you can still find those moments that bring you a smile, that send chills down your back and that leave you awake at night because you simply can’t imagine not being able to live in those memories for a lifetime. When sleep is behind you, you awake searching for the feelings you embraced as you swim through those moments.

Believe me, I have been there…

So, call me a Utopian thinker, a crazy dreamer or just plain nuts, but I choose to live in those moments. And though I will make mistakes along the way, unintentional I pray, I will still search for those moments, trying my best not to allow my life to be plagued by that which I did not create, cannot change or what others have decided to label.

I plan to take flight and intertwine myself within the mist and if I cannot see or feel the mist anymore, I will remind myself of those moments. I will jump through the looking glass and gather a new perspective. I will dance to the joys of laughter and sleep on the memories of love.

It’s constantly quoted, “You never know what you have until it’s gone.”



But, even more, to me:

“You never know what you are missing until someone, or something, comes along and gives it to you.”

And because of that, I now remember that I’ve had my moments and it took a three-year-old to remind me of that.

I’ve had my moments…

*All Photography on this page done by Joseph Swift II