Monday, January 6, 2014

890 NGUOUY Part 54 DAVID AND I TAKE A WALK ON THE DARK SIDE …

At some point after the train had chugged down the street, empty of riders, happy birthday is being sung to Ray when I look across Marie's back yard and see David staring off into space.

As Will's mind and mine have had several days to absorb thoughts of cancer invading the safe haven of love that means everything to our family, and as Barry and Steven have each had time to converse intimately with their parents, I approach David and ask if he'd like to go for a walk to which he readily agrees.

Thought I can't recall exactly what had been said, most important had been this fact:  Intuition had recognized a loved one's need to express vulnerability openly, honestly and earnestly by conversing intimately with a person whose trust has been earned, consistently.

You see, it's become clear to me that emotion is like the tide in that it rolls in and out, and thus do I respect those moments when rolling emotions create waves of vulnerability so powerful as to bowl a person's inner strengths over, momentarily.  Having accepted the fact that unsettling times offer just cause for my emotional reactions to bowl me over, I respectfully expect the same to be natural for others, as well.  In short, life offers emotional riptides when loving support serves as the sturdiest life raft, around.

While David and I walk around the block in the charming neighborhood, where Marie and her small tykes have recently moved, my son and I release negatively charged energy, stirred by fearful angst, in a healthful manner.  And as it's become our habit to make the most of any brief moment of intimacy, David asks many of the same questions that Dr. B had answered for me.  So by the time our walk on the dark side comes full circle, my youngest son knows as much about Will's condition as do his parents and brothers.

Just before we reconnect with the guests at Ray's party, I listen to my son say:   Want to hear something really ironic, Mom—while driving down here, I was thinking that I couldn't remember the last time I'd had so much to feel happy about and then—BOOM!

After a moment of silent reflection, this train of thought floats pensively from my mouth  into David's mind:
A few days ago, while you and I were on the phone, we had reason to speak of pure joy.  I remember suggesting that we need to make the most of joyous moments and then value those memories highly, because for the most part, life offers each of us one challenge after another, and if you ask me why rising to meet each challenge is worthwhile, I'd reply a life well lived maintains control over the roller coaster by conscientiously creating as many joyful moments with loved ones as possible rather than sitting passively, watching life's opportunities pass us by in less time than it takes to blink an eye.  I remember saying that we
can't wait for others to bring joy to us, because the creation of joy 'proves to be an inside job'.  (I'd lifted that last part of the last sentence from The Joyful Child Journal in which you may find several articles that the publisher had asked me to write quite a few years back.)

I'm always amazed to note how often life offers up experiences, which prove that the arsenal of insights guiding my life is on target, most especially at those times when instinct arouses my need to inject another morsel of knowledge (passed down through the ages by countless sages) into the bright minds of my adult offspring in hopes of offering those I love a step up in life by encouraging my sons to grow aware of the silver lining awaiting discovery within every dark cloud that rains on our parade until our spirits challenge the sun to come out, tomorrow. 

As this brief moment of honest, open, familial intimacy has inspired David (and me) to fortify a sense of personal strength, my son (and I) feel ready to place dark thoughts of mortality aside at least long enough to enjoy Ray's second celebration of life, and upon walking into Marie's front door, guess what we find on her living room couch, offering us both reason to smile …   :)

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