It’s been 53 days since I last posted on ESEReport.com. With that blog entry, I set the stage for how my story could enlighten others by sharing my journey to understand faith, hope, and love. What caused the delay in my writing? Facing the truth without conditions
The fact is that I’m sick, really sick. Period.
That reality is always there slung over my shoulder in a black satchel that carries the equipment connected to the LVAD pump attached to my heart. For the past six weeks, I’ve been frozen in time unable to move forward. All of a sudden, nothing made sense again. My journey took another unplanned detour on the road to enlightenment. I was plunging into the proverbial funk.
I was trapped in my own mind, dwelling on “what if.” Just when it seemed that I understood the meaning and value of faith, I was paralyzed with uncertainty and confusion. I tried to write my way out of it. That didn’t work. I wrote and deleted words again and again. I checked in with St. Paul and the Buddha as I always do when faith is being evasive. Their words made sense as usual, but doubt and insecurity persisted.
Then…two nights ago, I had a dream about my parents.
My dad died in 1995 and my mom passed away 8 years later in 2003. It’s been a while since they’ve come to me in my sleep. When I see them, I’m always the little boy that feels secure and alive playing in the backyard at 48 Viewmont Avenue or the teenager walking through the house after hanging out with friends to let my parents know I was home safe and sound.
In the dream the other night, I was a grown man walking up to the front door of the house I’ve shared with Sandra and the girls for 22 years. When I opened the door, I stepped into the modest living room at 48 Viewmont. The images were vivid. I walked by the linoleum topped counter that separated the kitchen and dining room and peered into the kitchen of my boyhood.
As I entered the narrow hallway that led to three small bedrooms, I popped my head into what we used to call the Girls Room. Laying in one of the twin beds was my grandma who lived with us for her final years when I was about 10 years old. She smiled sweetly and said, “Hi mijo.” I waved and smiled back at her as I turned to the Boys Room. It looked just like I left it some 30 years ago.
While moving about the house, I wasn’t feeling the usual sensations of safety and comfort. My stomach was churning. I felt scared and uncertain. I was emotionally lost in one of the few places on earth that made me feel safe. When I opened my parents bedroom door to let them know I was home, they were peacefully asleep on their double bed.
My mom lifted her head to see who was at the door. Her loving smile quickly faded to a look of concern. “Come in, mijo,” she said. “What’s wrong?” I began sobbing uncontrollably. “I miss you, mom, I miss you so much.” She motioned me over, embraced me tightly, and told me to get back to my family and go back to work.
I went over to my dad’s side of the bed. Before I could say anything, he peeked over his bare shoulder and looked at me with that piercing furrowed brow. In a stern voice, he said. “Your mother’s right, Eddie. Go back to work!” I wanted to hug him before I left, something we rarely did. With his familiar and charming smile, he reached out to me, held me close, and told me that everything was going to be okay.
A warm feeling of gratitude and purpose enveloped me as I slowly walked out of my parent’s bedroom and through the mist that encircled the dream.
I’m back in front of the laptop today. My heart is flowing and my mind is clear. The way to faith is a rocky one for sure. There will be roadblocks and a steady flow of debris along the way. But it’s a road worth traveling. I hope sharing my journey helps find a way to clear the clutter that prevents others from living a life full of faith, hope, and love.
Keep an eye out for my next post…it’s coming really soon! In the meantime, take another look at the set-up post for the final episodes to my story. Here it is once more from May 31, 2019: https://esereport.com/2019/05/31/so-what/
It’s worth reading again before moving on to explore more about how faith has given me the spirit to soldier on.