My parents’ marriage was a classic disaster. Often it felt like bombs were shaking our house, and the only safe sanctuary from the verbal shrapnel was under my bed or holding onto my golden retriever, Reggie.
Then divorce happened, and the resulting peace treaty left broken glass everywhere. Inside and outside. In the home and in my soul. The wounds and underlying anxiety would haunt me and follow me like my shadow during an afternoon stroll. Then, my mother went to work for $2.00 an hour, and I was given a food stamp for lunch at my elementary school. My father died when I was 13, and he was just 46. I was his sunshine.
These experiences and losses made me learn to love every day…to love and to cherish the ones you spend time with, and to only spend time with the ones you love. I learned how I wanted my marriage to be. I understood my role as a husband and as a father. I wanted a life with kindness and with understanding…one with love, a heightened almost “high” acute awareness, and a gratitude for being healthy and normal, whatever that means.
Now I smile from within. Not because the road to here was easy…but because it wasn’t. The pain was also the gift. It helped me to create what my heart needed. It gave me clarity. Drive. Purpose. Now I have my family, and our family life is safe. Sound. Full of love, laughter, joy, and lots of kisses and hugs. Plus, lots of “I love you” every day because I do love my family. I love them, and because of them, life is beautiful.
My wife is my love. My son is my sunshine. Together with them, I am out from under the bed, reveling in the glory of day-to-day life.
