Unleash your sexuality and dive into the human experience.
It’s nearly 9 o’clock when we leave the fire station. The sun had set nearly four hours ago, dipping behind Gold Hill and abandoning our small town in an icy darkness. My phone warns me that it’s below zero, without windchill.
Another jet took flight on the runway a few fields away from the old barn. The rumble startled the barn owl awake, and it flew up out of the feathery rafters onto a nearby splintery telephone pole where a sparrow or two had built a nest. The owl didn’t notice. Instead, he wondered about the mechanical wings of the airplanes.
It had been several days since my father was detained by ICE and I hadn’t cried once. Unlike my mother who was inconsolable, or my siblings who seemed dazed at all times, gutted by the shock of coming home from school Monday only to be told that their father had been taken away to a place where they couldn’t reach him.
She stands in the doorway of their dressing room watching as he gets dressed. He glances in the mirror and sees her standing there and he smiles. Her breath catches and like always when he smiles at her, her heart begins to race and instant wanting comes over her. She thinks at that moment that at fifty-nine, he still looks as handsome and sexy as the day she met him some 32 years ago. Back then, she was just a young twenty-something getting her first taste of big city life. And when she first met him, she wanted him.
What’s it like to be completely head-over-heels in love? To have a love for the ages; be willing to destroy cities and walk through fire for someone, only to have cities destroyed and seas crossed for you in return? The love we read about in the best of novels, that leave our hearts aching and tears running as we stay up until dawn, unable to leave the world we secretly yearn for. Does that exist, or is it just reserved for the minds of wishful thinkers?
Oliver had awoken sharply at 3:33am from what had sounded like the fluttering wings of large bird. He still observed the “my side of the bed” policy despite that his wife passed away at the age of forty-two from breast cancer some 6 months ago. His side was the left from the foot of the bed, closest to the the window. Resting on the limb of the large northern pine on the opposite side of the glass pane was a rather curious and charming barn owl. Russet crown feathers framed his handsome snow white face. As he cocked his head to the to the left, Oliver couldn't help but notice how black his eyes were, like obsidian marbles.
It was already a bad day, as I got out of my car to rush into CVS, but having to leave my family on Thanksgiving to do this made it worse. "Where are you going?" My dad had asked me. If only the answer was appropriate for the holiday festivities. The truth was, I was going to get emergency medication for a herpes outbreak I was experiencing, making me feel too sick to function. Unfortunately, to this day, these outbreaks give me flashbacks of one thing...rape.
One of the ways my heart guides me is through books. When I need some wisdom, a book will be presented for me to read, or a memory from one will pop up to soothe my aches. Today I am thinking of Viktor Frankl, not because my pain is anything close to what he experienced (as if there were a pain scale) but more because I need to be reminded of a bigger purpose, a more expanded view of life.