A Dream’s Slice of Life

My heart is beating fast. I got up to pee. Made it without leaking all the way on the carpet.

We had had such a nice day. Sun and beach. Children joined us playing with the sand, then were called away by their mothers. The kids were the Police Chief’s kids. Strange, how nice they were, seemed lonely and glad for adult company.

My husband is out, watering the trees, in the dark. Slipping from tree to tree, house to house, I followed and saw, alarmed, the Chief caught him, drew his knife, a little corkscrew motion, close to his chest. Scared the pee out of him. Took him to the station, I followed, eventually they let him go, harmless old doc, they said. But as I took him by the arm, the same corkscrew motion and knife appeared near my gut. “What are you doing?”, I scolded. “I am not under arrest.” Shyly, the Chief laughed. A good one he thought.

I followed the Chief home. Taut and Tired he briefly, looking in on the kids, said, I am going to the pub. Wifely followed and got in the car with him. After all, the older ones can look after the younger.

The girls will take care of them, but they are powerless.

Then BOOM, they went back into the house. A piece of ceiling fell. Oldest Son and Younger One had just set off a homemade bomb. Well made. But a little destructive. Chief remonstrated, calmly. Sons properly chagrined and deflated. Wifely cheered them up, Chief is too hard on them, so creative, did you read the novel I gave you? No, they hadn’t. Got the instructions someplace else. Well, bye, we are going now.

I stopped them. “Aren’t you going to settle this? Arrange some consequences? Punishment?” “Is there a possibility this is to get your attention?” No, its harmless play. “Boys, does your Dad ever pull that knife trick on you? How do you feel?” We feel terrible, he’s so real, what does he mean? It scares the shit out of us.

The children gathered round.

Back at the station, “Do you see, Chief?” The Sheriff heard all about the evening’s escapades. But nothing seems to phase the Chief. Inside a little boy himself, scared, loves to scare people, makes him feel big. Shame? Doesn’t know the name. A Bully he became.

Evening too with my friend, he speaking of his father, I never learned anything from him or my teachers. Whenever I had a question. Father would give me a rap on the head with his knuckles. The teacher would give me a good whipping. Yet, he often spoke of what he learned by observing his father’s actions, how he made little jobs that could easily have been done by one man more efficiently, but kept them all employed so their families could eat.  So what, little boy, caused the rap, an impertinence?  Or the lack of an answer.

A school counselor, my friend, in a cold voice, firmly believes that you must make the boy confess what he did wrong or he won’t learn what to do right. I  think  too, it is important to learn what one can do to make life better for oneself. Yes, learning right from wrong is important. Otherwise, making life better could be by crime, being caught and jailed or imprisoned. Where and when do you teach right from wrong. Jews say in the home, day by day, meal by meal, ritual by ritual, reading and discussing the Torah. The lad has been caught and sent to the counselor, what can the boy do differently to get the attention he so sorely needs? Can the Counselor also be a Comforter? And show the way forward for a wayward boy.

Is it true, Addict? Sympathetic Soul that your are, what need you confess, now that your know how you affect those around you by your behavior? And what behavior is leading you to, loss of health, friends, spouse, children. The Big Book, says, confess, you need help to change. Help from a higher source, God, Universe, Allah, The Force, whatever you choose to call your higher source. Is the Source, the Power, punitive? Comforting? Lift you up to a higher Way?

The Source wants to fill you up with him/her/itself, Wisdom, to know what you CAN do and to know what you cannot. Love yourself and love others by the LOVE poured into your soul from above. It is a gift from above to your NEW SELF born from above. You are loved like an only child.


2 responses to “A Dream’s Slice of Life

    • You are so right. I am impressed by friends who have been seriously injured for life in car accidents,yet say that they learned their lesson, that their accidents were due to their use of drugs or alcohol.
      Thanks for visiting the blog!

      Liked by 1 person

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