Overcoming Fear

                  

 

         

          The post below is in response to Prompt # 21  "Indescribable Horror"          

Outside my window the world I was familiar with had transformed itself into a world of frightful creatures.  Goons and goblins mingled among other unrecognizable monstrous faces.  Across the street the lawn, that was the envy of most in the neighborhood, transformed overnight into a replica of a cemetery.   Tomb stones and scary gargoyles shared space with howling ghostlike apparitions.    In the house that we lived in as tenants,  pumpkins, with carved menacing faces, lined the walkway, causing my knee to feel like jelly as I walked to the doorway. 

          My mom, a highly superstitious woman, would light candles to the statues of saints she displayed on a rectangular table set in a corner of the living room.  This was her alter.   It was the place she would often go to pray to cast out the fears that plagued her.  Even though it always had fresh flowers and candles burning, I was afraid of it.

  

          “Halloween is the day of the dead.  Those people out there do not know what they are tampering with”, she would say in a voice that would make me shiver.   

          Needless to say, I dreaded that day for years. At night, shadows on the walls made from ordinary things in my room became otherworldly objects that in my young imagination were out to capture me.   I slept with the covers over my head even if beads of sweat caused my nightshirt to cling to me as a second layer of skin.    Fear has a way of making logic a forgotten friend. 

  

          When I was ten years old my Aunt Carmen convinced my mom to let me spent the weekend with her.   I loved my aunt Carmen.  To me, she was the coolest lady I knew.  She would let me do things that mom would not allow. Nothing serious, just things like allowing me to wear jeans, or jewelry in the house.  These things, and many others, were off limit in mom’s view.   

           Aunt Carmen had purchased a costume for me to wear for Halloween which was just two days away.  It was a costume of Betty Boo. I must admit that even though the thought of venturing out on Halloween made my heart pound a little faster than usual, I was excited.   When Halloween arrived she took me trick–or-treating. I was really scared to venture off, but my fears quickly evaporated.  That night, as we went door to door, I collected so much candy in the plastic pumpkin she had given me that I could have probably eaten my fill and still have enough for another week.  To my surprise, I had a great time.   The spooky things I used to fear outside my window were not that scary after all. 

          I learned a lesson that day:  We can’t allow fear to stop us from experiencing life. Thank you Aunt Carmen.

         

       

The Light of Day

I couldn't sleep.  It was three in the morning and I had been tossing and turning for hours. I tried counting backwards from 400 in multiples of three, something I'd read about that was supposed to help you relax, but that was not working.  I tried focusing on my breath, another technique I had read about, but my mind was restless. It was not ready to unwind.   "Please God, help me fall asleep."   I prayed.  After a few minutes, I sat up and tried to focus, in the darkness of my room, before making my fourth trip to the bathroom.  On my way there I noticed that it was now four thirty in the morning.  I could feel another layer of anxiety taking hold of me.  It was useless going back to bed.  My body was just not willing to surrender itself to the pillow top mattress or the sheets or the pillow. I draped my robe over me, slipped on my slippers, and headed out to the kitchen.  The sound of my footsteps and my heartbeat were in harmony.  I longed for the light of day to disperse the worries that possessed my mind. Dad was in the hospital, having just been diagnosed with stage four colon cancer… my wonderful dad who had never been seriously sick in all of his life. Surgery was scheduled for the morning. I had just a few hours to get ready.   I filled the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.      "Dear God, everything is going to change now."  I said as I reached out for my cup and a tea bag.     Mom used to tell me that worrying was a useless exercise that never changed a thing, but I couldn't stop worrying.  My mom was totally dependent on my dad.   He did everything for her. “How will she survive if something happens to him?" I thought.  Various scenarios played out in my mind until I was interrupted by the whistling of the tea kettle.    I was beginning to feel my exhaustion, but I knew going back to bed was futile; sleep would not come.  I poured the hot water into my cup and dunk the tea bag aimlessly for what seemed an eternity.   Suddenly, somewhere off in the distance I heard birds chirping. Their songs were like a soothing balm to my wounded, troubled mind.   I opened the lanai door to hear them better.  The air was crisp, but it felt so good.   Sitting in my patio chair, I closed my eyes and took in the sounds of these care free creatures.   Then, like a whisper, peace arrived and cradled my mind.   I sipped my tea quietly, embracing the moments that passed.    I must have dozed off.   When I opened my eyes, the heavens were revealing the splendor of the first light of day.  It was so beautiful. Like an answer to my prayers, words my dad often shared flooded my mind...   “God didn’t promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for tears, and light for the way.”   I took a deep breath, trying to engrave those words in my heart.  I knew they would give me courage and clarity for the days to come.

Overcoming

 Stephen King said, “The scariest moment is always just before you start. After that, things can only get better.”
This week we asked you to write a memoir post inspired by that statement – in 300 words or less.

“I don’t think I can do this”, I said with pleading eyes.   

“Yes you can; it’s not that hard,” he replied.  

  My mind was racing with excuses that would help me get out of this predicament, but I couldn’t verbalize any of them.   We boarded the boat and found our seats.  A few minutes later we were racing through the warm turquoise waters.   The further we went, the more frightened I became.   To make matters worse, the rocking of the boat was making me nauseous.

 “I feel sick; I should wait for you in the boat.”  I said.  He looked disappointed.

 “Ok, breath… focus… you can do this young lady” I told myself.

Suddenly, the crew was passing out the equipment:  life jackets, flippers, and masks with breathing tubes. 

 “Oh no, this is it.” 

 Alarmed with images of shark attacks; drowning; being left behind, I stumbled, heart racing, to the back of the boat.     I could barely breathe.  Joe asked me to let out some of the air in the life jacket. 

“No way,” I replied stubbornly.    I’m a big girl and I need all the lift I can get.”  

He jumped in first and I followed after a quick prayer.    I couldn’t roll onto my stomach and water was getting inside my breathing tube.  I was kicking and gasping for air frantically.   Then Joe appeared.    He helped me make a few adjustments and lovingly reassured me that all was well.  He was right.  I was not drowning and there were no sharks.   I let out a sign of relief.  He reached out and held my hand.  With all the tension gone, I peacefully floated beside him, observing with wonderment the beauty of this underwater world.     All I could say was “Thank you God for allowing me to experience this.”    

From Darkness to Light

The prompt was "In the Dark of Night" - anything goes, so long as it fits that theme.

The alarm mercilessly yank her from her much needed rest with its insistent ring.  Enid had grown to despise these rude awakenings and wished for a time in her life when she would not be ruled by a clock.     She reached over, with eyes still closed, and hit the off button so as not to wake anyone, especially her husband who slept peacefully next to her.  She laid there in the darkness savoring the gift of comfort that only the night could offer her.   After a few seconds she reluctantly removed the blanket that had warmed her through the night and force her tired sleepy body to sit by the edge of the bed.  The soft wooly rug welcomed the soles of her feet.   In that position she waited until she was able to mustard enough will power to make her next move.

  “Oh God, please give me the strength I need today."   She 

Whispered.  

She took a deep breath, slipped on her slippers, grabbed the robe that laid by the foot of the bed and quietly stumbled into the darkness of the early morning hours.    The quiet hum of the house constantly warning her to limit the movements so as not to wake the others who slumbered peacefully underneath their cozy blankets.   Every breath she took hurt; every step she took was taken with great effort.  The order of her universe had been shattered.  

Exhausted in her spirit she kneels on the bathroom floor.  "It isn't right; how can I possibly exist without him", she angrily cries out to God.   She tries to conjure images of his sweet smile and joyful eyes that carried all his hopes and dreams.  But all she could see was the casket that housed his body, her beautiful child, being lowered into the dark depths of the Earth.     Tears from an anguished deep well within her soul flood her eyes while silent screams rise in desperate pleas to God asking Him again to release her from the unbearable pain; the pain that made it hard to breath; The pain that darkened her soul.  After a while, exhausted and defeated she sprawls herself on the floor before the darkness heaving uncontrollably into the towel she pulled from the rack.  This was her morning ritual since that awful day.   She knew that somehow she had to mustard the strength to face the light of another day.    From somewhere inside of her she hears her grandma's words trying to give her strength. 

  "The soul would have no rainbow if the eyes had no tears." 

  It was an old Native American proverb that her 

grandmother often recited.  As a child Enid could never 

understand what it meant, but now, she felt that even an 

ocean of tears would not bring the rainbows back to her 

life.   Suddenly she hears a soft tapping on the door.  It was 

little Mel calling her. 

  "Mommy, are you in there?  I'm hungry."  She said.   

"Yes sweetie", Enid replies.

“I will be right out" 

Enid splashes cold water on her face and takes one last 

look in the mirror before opening the door.  She barely 

recognizes herself.    There, in front of her, is the only 

thing that dispels her darkness.    She bends down and 

holds Mel tightly for a moment and then... she breathes. 

 

The Gift

This week Galit asked you to conjure something. An object, a person, a feeling, a color, a season- whatever you like. But don’t tell us what it is, conjure it in 100 words.

Faithfully, majestically 

 Its fiery body slowly emerges from beneath the horizon,

Dispersing the darkness with its presence,

Unveiling the splendor of life.

Tenderly, its beams of light

Brush the clouds with hues of orange and red.

Slowly, gloriously

It rises as the Earth turns its face towards it

Draping our world with shimmering light and warmth.

Quietly, lovingly

Through windows and curtains it calls 

Awakening us to the dawn of a new day

So beautiful, so intense, so life giving

A Moment in Time

   There are some moments in our lives that life forever in our memory waiting for us to recall, whenever we wish, the magic they once bestowed on us.  One of those moments occurred many years ago. 
           It was a Saturday morning; warm and bright and quiet.  The window near my bed was slightly open and I could hear the whispers of soft breezes lightly parting the delicate sheer curtains that I hung just the night before.  I remember how pretty they were; white with delicate embroidered lilies that ran all the way down to the hem. 

Still as can be and with eyes closed, I lay on my bed allowing my partially exposed skin to receive, with great delight, the soft caresses of the breeze that had just entered.  Like a soft kiss, it lingered only long enough to deliver the fragrance of the morning dew and the warmth of the sun.  Then quickly and quietly, it moved on allowing the next breeze to continue to stroke me.    "Umm",   I sighed with total contentment. What could be more wonderful?

After a short while, my attention was drawn to the sounds of nature outside my window.  They were busy composing a symphony with high and low chirps and rustling leaves.  The music they created elevated me to an even higher level of contentment.    I remember asking myself, “Who am I to be so lovingly awakened? “  Without any prompting I quietly whispered a prayer of gratitude.

With eyes still shut, I carefully turned and wrap my arm around my husband who slept quietly by my side.   He stirred lightly, grabbed my hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. Oh, how I loved the feel of his warm skin next to mine and the sound of the gentle rise and fall of his breath.  I still do.   I stayed there for a little while relishing the moment. It was oh so perfect. 

 Finally, I opened my eyes.  To my surprise, the room was filled with rainbows.    The crystal piece that hung from the chain of the ceiling fan had captured the sunlight and it now cast a stream of small rainbows everywhere.  So beautiful.   I smiled, took a deep breath, and tried to savor the gifts the morning had given me.   Then quietly, with one soft sweep, I removed the sheets from my body and sat up.   I knew that many challenges awaited me that day and for many days to come, but for that one moment, all was well in my world.   I was happy to be alive and to be loved.  I visit that moment often to remind myself that life can be beautiful. 

Memories of an Online Connection

It was a cold and windy January day when we left New York. The snow had hardened on the ground making the driving quite treacherous.   Most of our belongings were stuffed into the trunk and back seat of our car. The rest of our life's accumulations were on their way to Florida aboard a great big old truck.    We were leaving behind the only life we knew and one of our most precious possessions, our youngest daughter.

Edged in my mind are the images of her lovingly assuring us that she was well, and that she supported and wanted us to have a fresh new start.  I wanted so very much to take her with us, but we had to accept her choice to stay.  She was all grown up.    "I'll find a way to email as soon as we arrive",  I whispered, as I held her close to me trying not to  fall apart.  We drove for hours without any words, each of us drowning in the silence of our thoughts.   Then my husband began to assure me how easy it would be to keep in touch with her now that we had such advanced technology and that in fact, it would be cheaper than long distance calling so I could connect with her everyday as often as she and I wanted to.  He promised to purchase a computer as soon as we were settled.   I looked forward to that small comfort.

 When we arrived we were exhausted but happy to be with someone we love so much. My oldest daughter put her arms around us and we all cried.  They were tears full of mixed emotions.   I'll never forget the smile on her beautiful face as she took us to our room and proudly displayed the purchase she had made for us.  There it was, on top of the glass and chrome table, a spanking new computer.  It was all connected and ready for us to use. All we had to do was get online.      It was the first time I would connect with anyone online.  We dialed and wait for what seemed forever.  After much static and failed attempts, the dial tone changed and we were connected.  Our daughter guided us as we set up our email address.  I was finally ready to send a message.  I typed away, mostly gibberish, but I didn't care,  I just wanted to know that this would work. I hit the send button and like magic my words moved from Florida to New York in matters of minutes.   We waited for the response, and finally the words appeared on the screen.  "Glad you guys are alright.  So am I. Love you" . With that I breathed a sign of relief.  It would be somewhat bearable, this distance, I thought. I knew I could always use the phone, but for me I preferred the written word because of its permanence.  I could view those words as often as I wanted to; and I did.  We were never going to be so far away from each other as long as we stayed connected.

Back then I thought it can never get better than this.  How wrong was I.