Ghosts & Angels

Taken from Mike's Facebook Page Because it Inspired Me

There is a haunting coming. I can feel it knotting together into this tight ball of emotion, wrapping itself tighter and tighter inside of my soul and growing with intensity. This is not a new occurrence to my world, which is why I immediately recognize the ghosts gathering, doggedly pursuing my every step. I push down, deep inside, in an attempt to contain the bits that are now awake and lurking, but they begin to leak out of my eyes, drain my sleep, my appetite, and whisper inside my mind. If the release doesn't come swiftly, those whispers will grow ever louder until they are screaming full out in demand of my attention. 

I know the trigger this time, the event that's stirred up the ghosts of my past, made me short-tempered with my girls, weepy, and utterly devoid of patience...it is the passing of my childhood friend. A week ago today, he just didn't wake up. And while I am well aware of how fragile life is, sometimes its manifestation sucker punches me in the gut. It also stirs up those ghosts of mine, especially this time. When I met Michael, I was only fourteen. He scooped me up in that big, boisterous tornado way of his and claimed me for his own. I was the baby sister he didn't have, and he was the big, overprotective brother I always wanted. To a girl who was trapped in a childhood nightmare, he looked like this giant savior. And yet, I didn't have the heart to put my burdens at his feet. He had his own demons, and giving him mine felt like a cruelty that would have been unbearable. He'd be angry with me now if he knew all I didn't say back then, but it was worth it to protect him from the lashes of my own storm.

The flood of memories that were unfolding at the moment he stepped into my story now rush to the surface, picking off scabs, making me bleed and bouncing that knotted ball around inside of me like a tiny ship being smashed around on hurricane waves, slammed into the sea and the sides, adrift in the unrelenting tides that pull them to the shore. The lines are blurred of that girl he knew and the woman I've become. It is dark for me when that happens because on most days I know how to separate one from the other and maintain my footing, but now there is no solid ground to stand on, just an endless dizziness from the blur and a blinding pain caused by those ghosts. Every time I find myself in this place, it is accompanied by a tiny kernel of self-doubt that asks, "Is this it? Is this the one that drowns me? Is this the one that pulls me under completely, until there is no more daylight to be found?"

Not today, girl. Today there are angels everywhere you look, often in the most unexpected places. In fact, they are always there, but most days you don't really need them. During those times they patiently watch, quietly wait, smile when you smile, rejoice when you are happy, and celebrate every big and little victory you attain. Cry if you must, and then...be still. Let them help you unravel the knot bit by bit, one tiny scrap at a time, until all that's left of it is one tiny grain to tuck away, the grain that holds the ghosts tucked away inside of you. It's okay that they're there, the ghosts, the pain, as long as you don't allow them to overtake all that you are, all that you have healed, and the wonder that's come from, or been inspired by there presence. 

​Rest in Peace Michael Ray Jacobs 2-27-1968 to 3-6-2018. You will be missed.