STEAMPUNK15

If I were to sail away and let go of my past that brought me to this moment, I would be stripping myself of genuine, 100%, integrity. Integrity is the formula for a lost artistic equation of cultural semblance?

The essence of the pointless ramblings soon to follow, that you will be reading, that you have trusted in me to lead you through – the darkness. Read on – I promise that by the time you finish, darkness will give way to sunshine. Let the sunshine flood in.

But, for the time being, no one knows what the future holds. It is not for nothing. I am putting my fate in your hands, my friend and dear reader. It is up to you to finish and find peace.

My plate is full, the darkness remains, and the voyage is less romanticized. It is something meaningless. My little butterfly – my daughter is much more affected by this voyage. Sitting on the couch and watching her on her iPad while eating Rocky Road ice cream.

The walk up to the apartment that has now been more of a bachelor pad these days, than a single family dwelling. My footsteps make an empty sound as it echoes off the narrow walls. My wife is living with her parents. Her heals are dug in. Anytime severe case of depression sets in, she retreats to her parents.  And during this current year, it is now going on more time spent with them than together with me. Is this doing time? What is my crime? Why am I being punished?

Our daughter asked me (while we were eating dinner together with the in-laws) about spending one night with me. This is right in the middle of winter break and she’s home with my wife’s parents for two weeks. It was her way to ask to be taken away, and distance herself for a moment of reflection, yet disguised as a simple, “Dad, I miss you, can we spend some time together?”

Our drive home to the apartment was uneventful, as it should be. Walking through the door, I instructed her to get comfortable so she can relax. It was right after dinner and I had some activities planed.

As I was tiding up, I heard some heavy sobbing. I stood at the foot of the stairs, and called up to her.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. She said she’s crying.

I already felt the heart swell. I need to be her band aide.

It was as if, a psychological damn opened up. The connection between my wife and our daughter was severed for that moment, that night, that freed her from where her mom was safely convalescing. I was filled with so much love, (and so much rage). My child’s strength was so enormous. I can’t believe it. I saw a 6 year old, carrying the burden of the world on her shoulders, and the only time she allowed herself free and vulnerable is when she didn’t need to hide it, for the sake of her sick mom. Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Shit……Fuck! The clay around my heart, that was scabbed, gave way to bleeding.

I am amazed, about how she is dealing with it. I have been told that I am strong. Fuck that. I can write what I am witnessing going on, but, if I need strength…If I need consolation, when my God can’t answer the “questions,” I know who I need to look for. I look up to her for guidance. Just like the book, all I ever need to know, I learned from a Kindergartener.

She is a caring and thoughtful little girl, and smart too. She, too is fighting depression with us and she is very strong. But, If she needs to cry – please use my shoulder. She doesn’t need to tell me anything else.

My child was crying. I am trying not to cry, while writing these pages. I asked her if she was ok. She said, “I am crying”.

I’m sobbing internally.

At that point, I walked up to where she is and I threw my arms around her. I said, “you are going through a lot. You can cry now, you don’t have to keep it bottled up.”

SHIT!  PLEASE DON’T CRY. GOD,  IT BREAKS MY FUCKEN HEART.!!!!!

My child and I just stayed hugging each other.

She recognizes that mommy is ill. I tell her things like, Mommy is ill and that she needs help. What is the most surprising for me is how she processes what is going on. She understands better than I expected. I once asked her what does she think is happening during a 5 day tour of the insane ward. She replied, “Mommy is going to get help so she won’t be sad anymore.”

I would try to correct her, if she was an adult. If she was an adult, I would say, life is full of sadness, stressors, evil people. I would tell her that we are alone in this world. That the evil wants to see her fail. That people closest to you can hurt you the most. That people hate it when you become successful. That as you get older, hate is more tolerated and reigns over compassion. Look at our President, Donald Trump.

I wouldn’t take her to see her mommy (at least not yet). It is not a place for her.

The difference between listening and hearing, is that hearing isn’t always communicating. Listening is something constructive and is information seeking. Listening is building bridges. Listening is looking at something from someone else’s perspective. Listening is love. I can hear, but I haven’t mastered the ability to listen. Can you hear me Dear Reader?

I love my daughter. It’s the same goddamn place of love like every time and I am thinking of her from work. It’s the holidays. Hanukkah, Christmas are close together this year. We had celebrated most of these holidays from my in-laws house, where the woman in my life is too.

I realized at that moment, how strong my child is. How much he is going through. A lot of people I talk to tell me how strong I am. But, she is much stronger, and because of that – she is my hero.

She says from time to time, that I am mean. I hope she understands one day, why I sometimes can be that way.  But more importantly, I never want her to ever feel like I am judging her. Am I asking for a lot? Its taking me years since I committed myself to my family, but, here in these words are nothing less than insinuating. I am abusing the English language.

I keep asking you to follow, but, leave the objections to me.

There are times, when I get mad at her for not listening. Darling, kiss the wine – because wine is the blood of what you call medication. However most of the time she understands this, and things go smoothly.