A Father's Dream
I could have quit and all would have been fine. No one would of said I was less than I was. Many told me I should quit, I should step back. That everything I am doing will only end up in flames. Maybe it could have, but it didn't.
For each day I rose before the sun and held my children in my arms. I would look to my wife as I woke. Her beautiful complexion, her gorgeous aurora floating about the room. I could hear her heart beating gently in the calmness of every morning.
And when I look to them, when I look to my children, my wife, I think of all the wonder they have given me. I think of everything my wife has sacrificed to keep our children smiling, laughing as I step out the door every morning taking the risk to change it all.
I think of the terrible times we have had, the times food was more scarce than fuel. I think about the times when we argued over the simplest things because we would rather ignore the dragon and leave it to grow. Slowly taking up every ounce of fresh air we had in our house.
But I and my wife grew sick and tired of being victims of our thoughts our own chaos. Constantly building up our walls, sewing our lips shut and walking on our toes in each other's presence in our own home. We grew exhausted of the anger that would sit quietly, grinning , patiently waiting for us to stumble over the pile of pitiful frustration we would create.
We are not perfect now, nor will we ever be. But we are no longer the chaotic swirling apocalyptic hell that we were. We are now but a family of mild chaos, of small storms that can be easily handled in the shelter of our hearts.
I could gather a whole list of things that have gone wrong, that held us in contempt of our marriage. But I have little time, for today is another day I rise to take up the challenge to provide what our family deserves.
And without my wife to take up the life altering challenge as a mother, I would surely collapse. I would crumble as many in my situation would have. Having lost all our money, my brother to a drunk driver and our first child lost to a miscarriage.
But we keep hacking away at the mountain that separates us from our dreams. We are carving a tunnel to reach that which shall bring us a life of abundance, not only in wealth, but time. We are both sacrificing time for a bountiful amount of freedom.
And as I think of this, I am tying my cheap and worn shoes that clearly clash with my slacks. But I softly smile toward the open window, looking at the street lights. Picturing my family driving away, pulling up to our new home, away from the dangers of these murderous streets.
My shoes tied, I stand up looking around the house. Feeling its constricted existence. I can take a few steps and I am in the kitchen. I step right and I am outside and in the living room. This is no place for children to be. Our yard is but a slab of concrete. What child deserves such a stiff ground to play upon?
Where is the adventure of digging, of forming mounds of dirt and driving toys down it? Where is the imagination of modeling the earth at the will of the hands? These are things all children should have the chance to do. And they should have the chance to do so in their own yard.
The time is now four-thirty am. My eyes are tired but my heart is pacing with persistence. I am building an empire for my family, a kingdom. I shall crown my wife and my children. I shall be their provider so they worry not if their bellies will be fed.
I shall provide so they worry not if our car will break down. I will provide so that all needs are met and them some. And together, my wife and me shall be the glue to this kingdom, this empire. And our children will be given the chance to truly know their parents.
For the freedom we shall build will allow us infinite embrace of each other at any time we will. My heart softens as I think this and step toward the front door. Its dull color of vomit green is sore for any eyes. I grab my white binder that sits upon a small table near the door.
I open the door, a metallic screech echoes from it, and thus, the children are disturbed, woken from their slumber. I smile, but with pain, as I know my wife has rested no more than I, maybe even less. But bless her heart and may god give her strength to keep this family together.
I close the door carefully and as quietly as I can. I lock it, but not without pressing my entire body against it, as the doors its heavy body does not seat correctly. I turn the key and double check. Turn around adjust my clothing and head to my car. There, just a couple yards from the front patio sits our rusted Honda.
It is splashed in many colors, it looks to have been painted by Pollock, if Pollock was color blind. I open the door freely as the locks are useless. I place the binder on the passenger seat as I get in. I turn the key, it suddenly starts to rain, I hear something, the sound of pattering water.
I look to my right and I see droplets of water hitting my binder. I look up, and there is a leak in my roof. I tear back the discolored fabric on the ceiling and a small rusted hole is revealed. I laugh to myself as it never seems things could become more inconvenient, but they do.
I grab my binder and place in the back of the car. I press my foot to the clutch and reverse out into the driveway. Just as I do, a car comes out of nowhere, headlights off. I stop just in time, it hauls past. At at least two times the speed limit. I let out a sigh of relief and head out to my first business pitch. After two years of trying to get one, I finally received a call two weeks ago from a large nonprofit investment fund.
As I make my way to the meeting I affirm myself of all my work and give praise to everything that has gotten me here. I thank god, my family, my friends, the challenges of now, of the past, and those ahead of me. All of these have molded me for this moment and have brought me to where I am now.
I arrive at the office of the nonprofit. It's name is in large bold-brick white letters. I get out of my car and walk up the steps. As I do I feel sense of accomplishment and confidence bind to me. The rain is still pouring and I have no umbrella and my white button is becoming not much a shirt anymore.
As I am walking I hear a voice call out my name just ahead. I look toward it and there stands a man in a grey t-shirt and green shorts and flip flops holding an umbrella. I respond and the man comes walking down toward me, we shake hands and exchange names and greetings.
He has me follow him and as we are walking we get inside the building, he closes the umbrella and hands it to the receptionist. We then get in the elevator and as we are going up, he tells me,
"We looked over your proposal. Every inch of it, we could not find a flaw in your business proposition or the thought behind your formula for the product nor the turnaround rate before profit margins are met. Now, how did you come up with this idea?"
Looking at him while trying to fight back a smile to keep everything professional. I say the truth, which many may not believe,
"In a dream." I grip my binder tightly with my hand as I fear such a reply may lead him to find me a lunatic or think I stole it.
Tyler, the gentleman I am speaking with looks at me as he pulls his phone from his shorts, and says, "That is interesting, this whole nonprofit was my idea and I too thought of it from a dream. That must mean something." He then looks at is phone and places back in his pocket.
He then looks me in the face, leans in and says,
"You are not going to a proposal meeting, I have already spoke with the board and they are eager to hand you the money and get you going. The only thing we ask, is that you hire a few selected workers we have picked out. They are struggling entrepreneurs as yourself and we think it best if they could get a close look at what it truly takes to be a business owner. I am not entirely sure they are the material for such a thing so maybe them working for you will either push them more or bring them to their knees. What do you think?"
The elevators stops, we step off and we don't exit till I reply. My body is filled with excitement and fear all at the same time. I was not expecting this at all. Feeling my heart and my mind, I look to Tyler, his young face displaying patience.
"Yes, let's make this happen." We instantly shake hands, he puts his hand on my back as we begin to exit the elevator, he starts to ask me questions about myself and my family. We talk the whole way to his office and immediately start to discuss the details of how all this will work.
Half way through the hashing of details I start to cry a bit. I become overwhelmed by what just happened. All the work I have put in has finally been met with success. My heart is overjoyed, Tyler leans over his desk a bit and says.
"A man does not know true success till he weeps over it."
What are you working on that is yet to be met with success?
Is there something you want to accomplish but have not yet started or are working on it?
What is your ideal vision of success?
We are all a ticking time bomb, waiting to be taken from earth, A Man's Traveled Heart
Coming soon, The Bleeding of Words.
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