Return to Self

The adrenaline was pumping so hard that ear drums could be heard beating a steady, throbbing and loud warriors call. A small boy and his father stood before the manager of the store at the front end of the checkout counter. Father, sweating embarrassment and frustration, explained the disheartening tale to him. “My son took these from your store earlier today and we did not discover them until we arrived home,” his soft spoken voice shared as he handed a small opened package of balloons towards the manager. 

The words echoed long and loud. Silence shrouded the entire front end of the store as all eyes and ears were upon the quivering little boy in the process of becoming a man. A jar, full of his life savings held on to its master for dear life. Tears flowed that day as a father became a little boy once again as well. Another set of tears echoed those of his father but for a different reason I am sure.

In another time and another place, a mother discovered a large precious stone wrapped in a blanket and hidden in a field. Only one person would have been using that blanket much to his protests to the contrary. The stone was not one that would have been found in the fields near their home. This was something special and it didn’t belong here. 

Anger coupled with disappointment flushed her face and fear struck the heart of her son. He knew that she knew what had really happened. “You know better than this” were the words to be forever etched upon his soul. Letting his mother down was not something he had contemplated during his heist. It was emotion, pure raw emotion, a craving for something forbidden that powered his feet and clouded his immature mind. But now the clarity had returned. Crystal clear, in HD even before there was HD. 

His empathic abilities became heightened with the rush of adrenaline. He felt the pain that his mother felt. He felt the sorrow that she felt and it was overwhelming. The stone was returned to its rightful place. Shame and embarrassment became the wings upon his feet that carried him home like lightening from a summer storm. A rain even tried to wash away his wrong choice as it found its way down his cheeks.

Sometimes we don’t understand the unspoken reactions of our parents and guardians when we give in to our weaknesses. But this much I have come to know . . . . many times their reactions are a result of what they themselves have learned years before, when they walked a similar path. They have stood where we may now find ourselves. They have felt what we have felt. They understand the feeling and the emotions of the situation because they have “been there”. I guess you might say that it is a return to self. Welcome home again.

9 thoughts on “Return to Self

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