I ran away from home for the first and only time when I was 36 years old. It was Thanksgiving, and I didn't feel thankful. I felt lost, resigned, and alone.
I packed two bags and wrote a goodbye letter. I left it on the kitchen counter of the house I rented from my family. I was hoping they would come by unexpectedly, without calling, find the note, and thus allow me to have an excuse for leaving my life.
Two months earlier, I sat in a courtroom and watched who I was, die. When the judge rendered her verdict, I left that person and wandered aimlessly, disconnected, for weeks.
Thanksgiving came quickly and I accepted an offer from a longtime friend, to meet in Key West and do as Ernest Hemingway did when he resided there; drink.
The day I left, my friend called and said he couldn't make the trip. The person I left in the courtroom would have unpacked his bags, felt sorry for his loneliness, and sulked until something ridiculous came along to distract him. The purgatoried me got in my car, and drove 13 hours.
I stopped at a gas station near the beach in Miami. While my car took fuel, I walked a hundred yards and stood in the middle of the shore and comtemplated staying there or even going back home. I realized what those choices would be a metaphor of and I kept going.
I made it to the Keys. The motel shanty I chose, for price, was pathetic looking. It was dingy and unkept. The screen door was broken. There was a grill outside on the tiniest patio you could imagine. The beach, though, was just 30 feet away.
Two days later, Thanksgiving came. I had grilled a steak medium rare, which was apropo for my zombie state. I ate while the waves rolled in and the sound calmed my anxiousness. By my third beer, I decided to walk the 30 feet and try the cold ocean water, despite the 55 degree temperature. Before I reached the tide, I noticed how warm the beach was, so I removed my shoes and socks. I sat down on the berm, and felt the texture of the tan grains. I had a beer in my left hand and I poured a tiny amount into the ground and then ran the pebbles over the wet spot. The symbolism made me smile for the first time in two months. I let go.
A little beer, a good steak, a cool breeze, and some warm sand changed me. I changed myself. I went home the next day and tore up that goodbye letter. I've never written another one.
I'll never forget that Thanksgiving. I became thankful for who I was, and who I am.
*blogger's note* - This is a writing exercise inspired by blogger friends at Sluiter Nation. The matriarch, Katie, has a writer's blog, called The Red Dress Club - http://thereddressclub.blogspot.com/ I, nor my wife, have a red dress, but I do have a sand memory. She asked for me to write about it.
Today's song is special to me. It was playing during when and on the day this memory occurred. The "she" in the song is what I call my conscience, my morality, my essence. She spoke to me a lot that day. Here's one of my favorite songs, Shimmer by Fuel...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Hey MusicTwin... when sand gets in your toes, leave it in your shoes so you'll remember next time you wear them.
ReplyDeleteThe first paragraph was clearly awesome, as it drew me in and kept my attention the whole time. Perhaps I could relate on some level and felt a connection to the narrator, but I was instantly hooked.
ReplyDeleteWhat impressed me most with this piece though was the way you were able to express such a range of emotion and transformation in such a short clip of copy. There were no holes left for me to fill, just a sense of contentment at how things wound up.
Lance! This is a WONDERFUL sand memory! You are a wonderful addition to the Red Dress Club...you definitely rock the metaphor, my friend!
ReplyDeleteI loved this line: "I'll never forget that Thanksgiving. I became thankful for who I was, and who I am."
I am so glad you were able to have this experience. It's a revelation I wish everyone could have.
Great job, my friend.
I like this song. I also liked this post. My favourite was that it took a little piece of mind and nature to change you. I think sometimes we get caught up in the big things.
ReplyDeleteI think you would look good in a red dress. Water is my sanctuary too. It was always the place I ran away to. The one place in the world that seemed calm and stable amidst the insanity. The one place where I could breathe.
ReplyDeleteI read the first two paragraphs before I entered the subway and they were so intriguing that I couldn't wait to get back above ground so I could read the rest. I felt like I was riding shotgun the whole time. Excellent writing.
ReplyDeleteThis is so sad in the beginning and so refreshing and hopeful in the end. Love this entire experience.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful.. I love the idea of moving outside yourself in order to regain who you are. Love it.
ReplyDeleteWhat a fabulous read! My now husband and I escaped to Key West one Christmas to avoid chosing whose family we would celebrate. Needless to say, there's a special place in my heart for KW.
ReplyDeleteThat was pretty great memory - love your finally sitting down to move ahead.
ReplyDeleteThis is amazing, transparent.
ReplyDeleteI could picture the beer, the sand, the symbolism.
Most of all, I adored this: "The symbolism made me smile for the first time in two months. I let go." It always seems to come down to letting go, doesn't it?
Great first line. Well, just great. And now I really want a beer.
ReplyDeleteI was rooting for you to still go when you considered turning back. And I'm so glad you did! What a wonderful memory.
ReplyDeleteLove the part about your rare steak being fitting for your "zombie state".
I really enjoyed this, your writing sucked me in. Thanks for allowing me to escape into your world for a bit.
ReplyDeleteAhhh, good old Key West. Kinda dirty isn't it? I run away a lot, only I'm only gone for a week or two. Next time you need to "run somewhere", try one of the other Keys. Largo has some incredible snorkeling, and the beaches are what your dreaming of. ;)
ReplyDeleteReally enjoyed this. Sometimes running away is a good thing. Welcome to the club, by the way!
ReplyDeleteAnd that song? Haven't heard it in YEARS. But I love it.
Thanks everyone....wow some awesome compliments in these comments. I appreciate every one.
ReplyDeleteThank Katie for the invitation and the assignment.
Stopping by from TRDC.
ReplyDeleteThis is so good.
You've described your state of mind so well. Even though you're here to write this memory, I was a bit worried when you headed for the beach.
Hope to read more of your work in the future.
What an amazing story! This is inspiring! It's funny and fortunate that the combination of beer, streak, breeze, and sand was all you needed to put things into perspective.
ReplyDeleteNIce work man! That was extremely well written, I consider it one of your best.
ReplyDeletethat was a well told story, glad for a glimpse into your life with this one.
ReplyDeleteExcellent piece. Being from Hawaii, I can totally relate to the healing powers of those grains of sand and the waves lapping up to your feet.
ReplyDeleteWhat a key turning point in your life. Happy you shared.
New follower.
Wow, what a powerful piece on turning points. I'm glad you shared this on August's blog!
ReplyDelete