Tuesday was not a good day.
No Ma'am. No Sir. Not at all.
I woke up late. Missed a
morning meeting. Was moving slowly through my entire commute. But, before I
crossed the next city limit, I got a message from one of my work
colleagues. See, he had been waiting, probably impatiently, for me to get to
work so that we could dish. Well, I call it dishing he’d
probably just say, catching up or talking. He has just returned from the
northeast. RMF left California single, but came back with someone with the same last name. And he just
had to tell me all the deets, right?
Right. So… Lunch.
We met at a Mexican restaurant
at the border of campus. Literally across the street, but still in downtown,
right? And what had the makings of a terrible day, got exponentially better
with a hug! His smile. Flash of the ring. Married man glow. It was all there.
He even refused to let me treat him…and I wanted to!
As we were talking about all
the love and laughter us west coast friends missed out on, a sound was heard. A
sound. A noise. A shock so shocking, that instantly, happiness ended. We had to
attend to that matter at hand. A second noise, to the window enacted our active shooter training and in a millisecond, we were hiding underneath
the table.
I am underneath a table in a
Mexican restaurant. I am afraid for my life. A third sound is heard. RMF had
made his way behind the counter. I got stuck between the stool and table bolted
into the floor. But I wiggled my way, still on the ground, about to shelter
behind the counter.
See, the restaurant front is
all glass – floor to ceiling.
RMF made sure that I was okay.
He grabbed my hand. He drug me near him. He looked me square in my eye, and with
a certainty almost like my Daddie’s, tells me that I am alright and that we are
going to be alright. And his embrace ensures me that at this point, nothing
else (bad) is going to happen to me. Though I am literally afraid, I know that I only
fear what had already happened to me. He has me covered.
Eventually law enforcement
arrived sans sirens and purposeful movements. We leave because, well, danger.
From what we can see, it does not appear that there was a gunman. It looks as
if someone threw things at the window. But we don’t know for sure. We are only
certain about moving expeditiously to a safer place.
Afraid. It’s loneliness, you
know, being afraid. And I have the lion’s share of loneliness (in my
heart, at least).
I know it well. It’s devoid of sound #thesilenceofmymind.
Of feeling. Of progress. It stops me from moving in any direction – even
backwards. I don’t understand things. I over understand things. I can’t find the
words to say…or write.
Why would someone attempt such an
assault on a Mexican restaurant? Was there someone or something inside they were after? Did
they know there were mothers with their infant babies inside? Did they desire
to strike fear in our hearts? Was something wrong with them mentally? Perhaps a
random act of violence? Could this have been an accident? Misunderstanding? Should I have ordered tacos instead of nachos? #ItWasTuesday
Too many things to ponder as I
attempted to verbalize my erratic feelings. Then RMF said it…I totally thunk it
though. He just got married. What a tragic thing to happen literally day after
being married. His wife. His beautiful wife. He is thankful that his wife was
not there.
That comment had nothing to do
with me. He didn’t say that to hurt me. Or to push me further into my despair. But
to think that I didn’t go there would be false. To say that there isn’t some of
that residual feeling left would be a more heinous lie. It’s not that people in
my life aren’t worried about me, or wouldn’t worry about me had they known, in
the moment what was happening, it’s just that my I haven’t met yet-somebody's son isn’t
here to care. To make me leave my office like RMF did. To make me open up and
say something about my feelings before they turned to complete madness. To do
all the things he could to fix it, though he was sitting right across from me,
there to experience it.
My conference hubby described
it as a bout of loneliness…and I
suppose I’ll have to do
I couldn’t bring myself to go
out in public the next day because, well…fear (among a host of other
feelings).
While doing nothing about my current situation, I checked my email. I forwarded
an email from one email client to the other. As I did that, I stopped and
stared at the automated signature which populated in the message:
Life
is short, live
it. Love
it rare, grab
it. Anger
is bad, dump
it. Fear
is awful, face
it. Memory
is sweet, cherish
it.
 |
| ...like in an email signature. |
Fear is awful honey…you just
have to face it though. That means you have to go outside. You have to live.
And it will be hard, but TR has been telling you since forever and a day to do it afraid…and this is real fear. And
this is what it sometimes means to do it afraid.
It’s funny. I’ve talked
numerous times about provisions. How our parents make provisions for us. I came
to this realization in a Ball Pit.
Who knew though, that I would be making provisions for myself? That I would
find a collection of words that would motivate me to move through my
hesitation, through my doubt, through my fear.
Fear is not real. The only place fear can exist is in our
thoughts of the future. It is a product of our imagination causing us to fear
things that do not, at present and may not ever, exist. That is near insanity.
Do not misunderstand me, Danger is very real. But fear is a choice. #WillSmith #AfterEarth
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