Posted in Relationships, Uncategorized, Writing

Rumblings in the Midnight Hour

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Lying in bed reading one of the three books I’m currently absorbing, “Chicken Soup for the Writer’s Soul”…my wife lays her book down and says good night.  The three children are in bed, our youngest, Joshua, hasn’t felt well today–sore throat and stuffy nose.  As I delve into another encouraging story of a struggling writer determined to make his mark on the world, I hear a faint “Mom”…’mom”…. Quickly, I spring out of bed to prevent my wife from waking up.  Joshua states he feels like he’s going to throw up and asks if I’ll stay with him until he does.  Thinking fast, I run downstairs for a bucket, a wash cloth, and the thermometer and return.  He doesn’t have a fever but he’s unable to sleep; I also retrieved a folding chair so I could keep watch and sit in his room while I continue reading…waiting for the inevitable.  His tummy is rumbling and he’s a T minus 10 and counting.  I told him to try closing his eyes and maybe sleep will come and the event will pass him by.

I continue reading and hear the rumble of an early Spring storm, and the rain begins gently spitting at the windows.  I read the awesome story of a young cook in the Coast Guard who was determined to become a writer.  He spent much of his time writing letters for fellow servicemen who needed beautiful letters and poems written to their sweethearts; later he hung out at bars hoping to run into publishers and developed a writing interview style still used by Playboy today.  This incredible soul, Alex Haley would later publish works which sold copies in the millions and was adapted for the big screen and television….this was the author of “Roots!”  A cough and a sputter arrests my attention from the book as I lunge for the bucket.  His prediction now a reality and his supper successfully transferred to the bucket, I dab his mouth with the moistened wash cloth and help him get settled once again. Pfit, pfet, drip, drip, the rumble of tummy and thunder now decrescendo into the night and resolve into a rhythmic snoring and a tick tock of the train clock hanging on his bedroom wall.

Returning to the Soup of My Soul…I finish up the story of Alex Haley and another rumble begins.  A rumbling thought–am I a writer?  I’ve journaled the last 20 years of my life.  I love and appreciate the power of words.  I remember my 3rd grade teacher encouraging me in my attempts at poetry, my junior high English teachers praises, and some great books on writing.  One book in particular is Mary Pipher’s “Writing to Change the World” ~ awesome book and a woman after my own heart.  I am always inspired to write when I view events like the people in the Middle East who desire freedoms and the ability to consume and share information, to express themselves without censorship.  When I hear of people who rise from obscurity to heights of accomplishment like President Barak Obama, and J.K. Rowling, I have renewed hope for humanity–the common, everyday person.  I also feel my journalistic side  desire to be the voice of those who live in third world impoverished and underprivileged conditions.  There are many blessed with so much, but there are also so many with too little in this world.

The snoring, the tick tocking, and now my longing to write join together in a rumble symphony with hope for the future that my son will awaken feeling better, and that this long winter will soon be over, and that I may someday I may use my gift of passion for words to help those in great need; to be a voice for the speechless or unheard.  May all who read be mindful and aware that life, while short, offers in each day an opportunity to observe, record, contribute, and give.  Blessings and health to you all!

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Author:

Eternal Optimist, Writer, Music Lover, Avid Gardener, Science & Tech Admirer, Cook, Baker and Social Networking Encourager

4 thoughts on “Rumblings in the Midnight Hour

  1. Thanks Cuppy & Peggy. This morning, waking exhausted to the sound of Joshua plopping himself on the recliner beside me…still moaning, I toss and turn, covered by a zig-zag blanket I crochetted 23 years ago. I hear my twin daughters enter the room, one, then another. Robyn (my wife) finally wakes and joins us.

    Robyn asked about his status, I report that this was how he was until I came downstairs at 3:30. After so long being sick your child appreciates the closeness and focused attention and at times, tries to draw it out as far as they can. As a parent, your patience wears thin after some time. Robyn could see this was happening with me. She stepped right in after her walk on the treadmill and said, “I know its hard to give and give when your nerves get frazzled.” So, for the time it takes me to make French Toast for breakfast, just go do something for yourself.”

    I return to the living room, take my Chicken Soup book and begin to read. Robyn put the Celtic Women CD in the player and my mind immediately goes into reflective/introspective mode. I think back to the time when all the children were even younger, and because of my work life and my own immaturity, I often gave a higher priority to “the mission” and Robyn struggled alone in many instances. The song, “There Can Be Miracles” begins to play and salty tears begin to roll down my cheeks. For the guys reading this, take note; and for Robyn, I am so sorry I was unable to give what you needed most, an understanding, sympathetic, “giving French Toast break.”

    Giving from the soul is an incredibly generous gift. Robyn has almost always given, even when she didn’t feel like it. She is in spirit, who I aspire to be…fully human/fully spirit without the split. Women are highly skilled and come by more naturally the nurturing side of living. But, I am convinced after 44 years of existence that we men too are capable of the same, but our mentoring, teaching, and encouragement to be both fully human and fully spirit is greatly lacking. Are we deficient in the humility gene distribution? I pray that my efforts with my own son help launch a new generation of male which is strong yet gentle, decisive and compassionate, committed but flexible, and open minded enough to always be learning–fully human~fully spirit.

  2. Oh, wow, Ed. I hear you. And I really appreciate who you are and your desire to grow richer and fuller. Thanks for crafting your thoughts and perspectives. The “dark nights” and trials are the seed-beds of fertileness for us artists. You write well…thoughtfully, kindly, and gently.

    I’ll share some tidbits that I read yesterday in Dan Miller’s book “No More Mondays”:

    “The word ‘vocation’ comes from the Latin ‘vocare’, which means ‘to call’. It suggests that you are listening for something that is calling out to you, something that is particular to you. A calling is something you have to listen for—a connection to something larger than yourself…….

    But what? Where do we begin? I would suggest that you look at what you most enjoy—what do you do with ‘enthusiasm’? Keep in mind that the word ‘enthusiasm’ comes from the Greek ‘en theos’ and literally means ‘God in us’. You don’t have to be religious to realize that true enthusiasm is about more than fun and games. It comes from deep within and connects us to what is meaningful and purposeful.”

    Keep listening to your inner voice and then….put the pen to paper!

    Thanks!
    Bonnie.~

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