Tag: pain (Page 4 of 4)

The Final Breath

September 28, 2012 / Tom

♥

He laid there, the immense pain in his chest beginning to numb under the realization that he was dying. Just moments before he was alive, enjoying the morning with his beloved, laughing about the memories they had created the night before. Now, he was sprawled out on the living room floor fighting for air, and wanting so desperately to talk.

She was there, above him, her hands holding his face as they had a thousand times before. The worry in her eyes was clear as she begged him not to leave her. “I love you baby, please stay with me. We never have to be apart again, I promise. Stay with me, I love you so much. Please…please.”

He wanted to talk, but the words just would not come out. He wanted to remind her that he loved her too. He wanted to bring her back to the many moments they shared. As her blue eyes cried the rains of hell onto him, he wanted to bring her back to Heaven, the place that they shared when their bodies meshed and their minds fell into each other. He wanted so badly to comfort her as she tried to comfort him by touching him, kissing him, and reminding him that yes, he was all she ever needed. All he could do, however, was lay there. As the tears streamed down from the corner of his eyes he could only stare at her and beg whatever gods there were that this would not be the end.

His desperate struggle for air began to settle as his mind drifted back to the first time he saw her. It was a picture, and her eyes had enveloped his senses and drew his attention. He couldn’t explain the feeling, he only could utter something to himself that he would say to her a short time later: “beautiful”. She stole his attention to the point that despite loving the mountains he did not notice them behind her. All he could do was look at her face, those eyes and that smile. He felt he knew her once, although he couldn’t say when. He also felt he needed to know her again, although he couldn’t say why. So, he sent a simple message, and then came her reply.

He could remember the reply, the poetic way she stated her emotions of the moment. He could feel her presence despite never meeting her. In a brave and courageous moment this man had sent that woman a message and she had replied. He knew then that something was happening within him.

A sudden shift brought him back to his reality. “I’m going to get the phone to call 9-1-1. Baby, please hold on!”

“NO!” he wanted to scream. “Please stay here with me. I need you baby, hold my hand. Kiss me. I don’t have much time left. I have so much I need to say to you.”

She was gone, and although only a few feet it seemed like a million miles had separated them. They had begun their relationship hundreds of miles apart, and although they had settled into a routine he could remember the pain of being separated from her. So many days had to be spent missing her and wishing she was there with him. In the early days he had often doubted that this woman could love him. He had often doubted that she could stay true to him. He often caved to the frantic fear of his mind created long before he ever met her. Even at its worst when they ended for a short time, she came back to him proving that he mattered, and that he had value to someone. She loved him, he could see it in her eyes and feel it in her touch, and now as he heard it in her voice as she frantically begged the dispatcher to get there as fast as he could. As she screamed at the phone, he only wanted her voice to become sweet again like it was when she said “I love you” or “come to bed baby”.

“Please sweetheart, let me hear you sing” his mind whispered as his mouth remained silent. “Don’t cry, just whisper in my ear and laugh. God, let me here that laugh please. I have a joke here somewhere, please just laugh.”

He could almost hear her laugh. It made him tingle to hear it. Her eyes would light up and her mouth would curve “just so”. It was no wonder everyone loved her so much. It used to drive him crazy, and he often felt in the beginning like she liked them more than she liked him. She paid more attention to them, and he felt relegated to a dark corner of the room. He believed she gave them more of her than she gave him, but once he began to listen and to see the truth he realized what a fool he was. She gave him so much more of herself than she had given anyone else. She loved him, and offered to him parts of her he was sure no one else had ever seen. She even gave him what he asked for, and in the process showed him the truth. “What a fucking idiot I was” he said to himself. “I want my fucking life back, I want to love her like she deserved to be loved from the first time we met. Please God, give it back to me, I won’t waste a second…”

God’s answer was a gasp for air and an intense pain in his chest. He shook his head angrily at the reply, and then focused as he had learned on the beauty around him. He could feel his children in his arms again as they had been as babies. He could hear them say “I love you dada” and feel their little hands take his index finger as they struggled to walk. He could feel them cuddled next to him when they got older as he read their favorite book. He could remember the lectures to his son about sports, the diatribes to his daughters about boys, the millions of laughs and the relatively small numbers of tears. He loved to make them laugh, and he would often make himself the butt of his own jokes to get them laughing hysterically. As he looked into his woman’s eyes something must have told her, “please tell my babies I love them. Please don’t ever let them forget.”

“I won’t. But you’re not going anywhere. You will tell them yourself.”

“God I wish” was his heart’s reply. His children were the first people he ever felt pure love for. They taught him what it was to love and be loved, and the woman who now cradled him softly taught him how right he was. His children gave him value as a father, she taught him value as a lover, together they taught him value as a man. Even now as he spent his last moments in this existence she was here, showing him his value and the true meaning of love. It wasn’t in the nifty words he could string together. It wasn’t in the sex. It wasn’t in the outward show of affection. It was in the truth that made all of those things possible, but not necessary. They were necessary to the ego, the truth was necessary only to itself and it owed something only to itself. He had understood that early on, but it took him time to get over himself to actually use it. His past had once so cluttered his mind that it stole precious moments away from him and from them. Moments made even more precious by their imminent end.

He could feel the end coming. Within him became a mixture of peace and pain, of darkness and light. He realized this interesting parallel in the life we all lead. It seemed what we call death is just like what we call life, a mixture of suffering and joy. Even now, as he suffered intensely amid the final pathway to peace he couldn’t go there. Not yet. He wanted to spend one more moment with this woman who had changed his life and brought the sunshine where none existed. For that he would bear whatever pain that had to be borne. He suddenly became calm, and the pain seemed to subside. This, as it had been his entire life, was the power of Love.

He looked at her and felt healthy. His breathing seemed to return to normal, and the pain in his chest subsided. He shook his head slowly, although he was not sure at what. It felt like the first time they met, with a mixture of excitement and anticipation followed by realization and love. Then she laughed, oh God she laughed. Through the tears and sniffles she laughed. His head, now on her thighs as she stroked his head and wiped the tears from his cheeks, shook a bit with each burst of laughter. He was able to lift his arms long enough to wipe her hair from her face and stroke the contour of her jaw line one final time. Suddenly, he found his voice for one last poetic verse to his lover.

“Baby, I love you. Since the dawn of time I have loved you. It may be here, or it may be there, but somewhere I will be loving you. Please, know that it is you, and it always has been you. I am grateful for last night, and for every night I have had with you. I am also very grateful for this moment and that it was with you. I love you…I swear.”

As she bent to kiss him, he closed his eyes, grateful that the last vision he would have in this lifetime was of her, his lover, his friend, his guiding star. They kissed sweetly with a passion that had never left. With that, he inhaled deeply and headed toward peace.

♥

my Sweet Affinity

September 18, 2012 / Tom

How much is too much

Of me?

How much can you hear?

How much can you see?

How much can you bear

Of me, my Sweet Affinity?

Which time is the last time

You’ll be

Smiling at my words?

Wanting to hear from me?

Oh how much can you bear

Of me, my Sweet Affinity?

Which moment gives the rest

A loss of dignity?

When I don’t exist at all

In the Sunrise that you see?

Oh how much can you bear

Of me, my Sweet Affinity?

I pray, I struggle and look for signs

Or a simple, golden key

To unlock a moment’s saving grace

To set the question free

Just how much can you bear

Of me, my Sweet Affinity?

A Conversation of Love

September 10, 2012 / Tom

♥

My friend you ask such a wonderful question! Let me try to answer you in the only way I can. Let’s be still for a moment…

My Soul knows. In some respects It has always known. Before my mind could question a thing my Soul knew. Before I could form words or understand their meaning my Soul understood. Before the concepts of time and space took hold in me my Soul felt her presence. When I learned to crawl I was crawling towards her. When I learned to walk and to run she was the finish line. Before I could read or write I had already written the book of her in my heart. Each experience of this life has led me toward her, the woman I’ve known a thousand lifetimes and loved since the dawn of my Soul’s creation.

I cannot explain how it feels when I look at her, when I see her face. I cannot explain why my heart jumps when I see her smile, or feel her fingers snake between my own. I can’t explain the welling up in my eyes at the very thought of her. I can’t explain or describe any of it, but I know it’s there and I know it is my Soul talking to me clearly.

And although my mind may not always be satisfied with the answers it gets. It may not always like what it sees. It may not always have faith. It may not always have blind trust in the woman who inspires such Love in me. But my Soul, ah my Soul, well It always knows who she is. My Soul always sees the light of Love radiate from the clouds my mind has created. Those rays of love warm even the coldest parts of me, and even when my mind creates things that don’t exist or focuses on those human things that do, my Soul always feels those rays of light and always knows they’re there. They are the meaning of it all.

That is why I love her my friend. Not because of some need of my body or mind, but because my Soul wills it to be. Because my Soul knows, as It always has and always will. When I close my eyes for that final time and breathe my last, my Soul will still be with her, and Its heart she will carry into whatever place she travels next. She is not perfect in this form but my Soul bears her name regardless of where my body or mind take me. That is Love, my friend. It is a Mindful, mindless, pure and simple Love that encompasses all of who we are.

What a gift it has been to have it, and what a gift it has been to see it at work. Each tear a gift unto itself; each twitch of pain a confirmation of the simple truth of Love often left complicated by a mind seeking to explain it. In letting go, however, in leaving the mind to its quieted place behind the Soul if even for a moment, you will see it clearly. You feel it, you have no doubts as It carries you beyond your mortal place into a Heaven best left secret to Lovers. Yes, it is in your midst and you can’t see it only because you have failed to look with your Soul but rather chosen to look with your mind’s eye. Forget the mind for a moment and see It in all of Its glory. That is Love, that is power, and that is her. Now, take her hand and walk into the Sunrise and never look back again.

∞

Is This the Forgotten Side of Aurora? A Firefighter’s Sacrifice

July 25, 2012 / Tom

Photo: Fire Rescue 1

Firefighter-EMT died shielding girlfriend in Colo. theater shooting

As a firefighter, I get to work next to some of the most amazing human beings I have ever met. I also get to work to assist some of the most amazing human beings I have ever met. I never met Jonathan Blunk, but I have met hundreds, if not thousands, of men and women just like him. It’s why most of us in Emergency Services shy away from the word “hero”. We know so many of them.

He saved his girlfriend’s life. He shielded her, he protected her, and he died for her. Many of us would do the same thing for someone we love. Yet, how many of us would do this for someone we don’t even know? I know hundreds, if not thousands, who would and some who have. I’ve lost friends and acquaintances; brothers and sisters who simply wanted to help another human being in their greatest time of need.

Jonathan’s girlfriend, Jansen Young, summed it up quite nicely.

Young said Blunk would have taken a bullet for anyone in the theater Friday.

“You know, the nearest person sitting next to him, he would have been like, ‘This person needs my help now,'” she said. “That just who he was and everybody knew it.”

Yes, that is just who he was and everybody knew it. Even those who have never met him. He’s part of an amazing brotherhood of sinners and saints who want nothing more than to save you; to help you, to be there when you need them the most.

You did us proud, my brother, and may you rest in peace having shown the greatness of Love in the most trying times of fear. May we have the courage, the ability and the discipline to do the same when called upon to act. Be humbled, my friends, because greatness like this doesn’t always shine from the darkness. If it did, we’d all be firefighters, policeman, EMT’s and in the military. I remain in awe of those I serve with, and of those who have paved the way before me.

So, while we get caught up in the mundane but necessary political debate over ways to keep us all safe, simple men and women are doing remarkable things to get us there. In my experience, tragedy happens in order that we may bring the best out of ourselves and in each other. Perhaps we need to focus on that “best of ourselves” in order to best honor those who have shown us the best of themselves. Maybe we need to focus a little more on the hero and a little less on the monster.

Peace.

The Pond

July 16, 2012 / tomgrasso

“It is not what you look at that matters, it is what you see.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

…

Love is the greatest source of pleasure and pain ever created by the Universe. It proves to us we are alive, and gives us a reason to look at ourselves through eyes full of both clarity and clouds of tears. It sums up the human experience provided we experience its opposite, and such a relationship between love and fear allows us to know who we are.

In Love, we can both experience the suredness of solid ground but also the impermanence of our own foundations. We can observe the unsteady security of where we stand, and we can easily lose our focus unsure of our own existence. We can seek the safety of the ground while flying high above the clouds, and once landed seek to fly again. We can feel grounded while floating among the stars if for only a moment to realize that the ground is nothing more than a figment of our imagination. The real glory lies here among the stars if only I could shut my mind down long enough to see them.

The mind’s purpose in this seems to be to both define and distort Love. When I see the mind working, and I ignore it, Love stands as the foundation for my life’s purpose. I feel Love, I am in love, and I know where I am clearly and without reservation. When in mindless focus, I hear the voices of the past dictate to me what this is. The mind creates stories, withholds truths, plays games and creates conditions by which Love is, and surely this distortion creates the suffering that only Lovers know. We create conditions, we create stories, we play games and then we suffer from them.

The Pond

So, you come upon a pond. It’s still waters invite you as you feel a thirst within you. You walk to its peaceful shores and kneel to take a drink.

You pause, seeing its beauty you don’t want to disturb. Such tranquility, such peace and such beauty are found in this place that even

Photo by Tom Grasso

through your thirst you take a moment to soak it in. Soon, however, the thirst takes over and you cup your hand to drink.

You break through the surface of the still water creating ripples that extend far beyond where your hand meets the water. You drink, feeling the coolness of what the pond offers travel all the way down into your Soul. You realize now how dry you were, and you now cup both hands to drink larger quantities of water. The ripples are now larger, but you fail to notice because you are now focused on your thirst. Soon, you are full of the water and you barely notice the pond at all.

Your thirst satisfied, you now realize that you are hot from the afternoon sun. You strip naked, and dive into the pond without paying attention. You reopen an old wound on a rock and the once-clear waters are now stained with the blood from this wound. You are now bathing in a mixture of the pond and your open wound, they have almost become one. You splash and play creating some fresh wounds in the process. The pond is no longer a beautiful, peaceful place but rather a place of turmoil and injury. You lose sight of what drew you here in the first place and become selfish in your need for more. The once calm shorelines of this pond are now rough with the wakes created by the action/reaction of flesh, mind and water. The waters once crystal clear are now clouded by the silt stirred from the bottom and the blood from wounds created in mindless activity.

Soon, you are near drowning with exhaustion, and you begin to fear the pond. You barely make it back to shore when you collapse.

Photo by Tom Grasso

You look at the cloudy waters of this now rough pond and you wonder what ever led you to such an ugly place in the first place. You dry off, pick yourself up off the sand and travel onward until the thirst returns. The pond becomes still again, and the silt once again settles to the bottom revealing a calm, peaceful, pristine place. Another traveler will soon be welcomed here, drawn by the beauty of this place.

A Choice

We all have a choice when we find our pond. We can’t help the stories our lives have created in us. We cannot help the wounds we bear from our journey. We all get thirsty, and we all want comfort. Yet, we often find our search for satisfaction creates the opposite in those we cherish the most. We aren’t satisfied with just a drink, we need the entire cup. We aren’t satisfied with the immersion of our Selves into the cool waters on a hot summer day we need more. We aren’t mindful of our actions and the reactions they cause. We forget that the pond has silt on its bottom, and we have our wounds, and mindlessness only seeks to activate both.

We all have a choice to make in our own relationships. Remember what drew you to her in the first place. Remember the beauty of this pond and the reflection its stillness provided. Remember that your story is only important if you make it important; your wounds will only reopen if you push them to break and if they open they only matter if you allow them to bleed.

Drink from the pond with care. Walk in, but do so with peace in your purpose. Sit, and enjoy this place and the moment you have. Allow it to embrace you, to comfort you, to hold you up and offer you a place to relax. When the winds come and the waters become rough, all it to be without your wounds being opened. Sense that “this storm too shall pass” and that what drew you here in the first place will return. Remember that the tears that you shed become One with this pond. Be still as often as you can be. Enjoy.

This is the lesson I have learned painfully over the past few months. I realize that I don’t want to leave this place, that exhaustion too is impermanent. I love it here, and I want to be here in the stillness and peace that Love provides me. It’s beautiful here, and in knowing this I can only ask for forgiveness and healing as I wait for the waters to become peaceful again.