I have a haunting memory
that occasionally creeps into my thoughts and reminds me how fear can haunt a
child’s dreams. When we lived on Lemon Road, we had in our neighborhood a man
that would roam the streets. I never knew what his real name was, but we
all called him “The Weasel.” He dressed in dark clothes, a trench coat clutched
tightly around his small, skinny frame. I don’t recall his face; but I have an
image of him walking with his head down, a worn fedora on his head, his coat
held tightly against him.
It is seared into my soul.
We were told by our moms
to stay away from him – but no explanation was ever given. When we saw him, we
would RUN like the wind to hide in the back yard or in our garages, convinced
he would steal us away if he could catch us.
It was at night when I was
trying to sleep in the cozy canopy bed my father made me that I would truly
fear The Weasel. I was convinced that he was lurking in the dark corners of my
room and I wouldn’t allow myself to fall asleep.
When I couldn’t take it
any longer, I would crawl out of bed, slide across the floor and sneak into my
sister’s room. If I was very careful I could sneak into her bed without her
even knowing. .(Fortunately for ME she is partially deaf, and wouldn’t always
hear my clumsy attempts.) I was awakened most mornings by her hitting me with
her pillow and yelling at me to “Stay OUT of my room!!!”
I amassed a number of
fears those early days as do many, many children of that age. I was afraid of
snakes, going over bridges, being in the dark, sleeping in my own room,
lightning, thunder, the Easter Bunny and my closet.
I can’t recall the precise
moment I left those fears of youth behind and slipped on that dangerous cloak
of invincibility. You know that cloak, don’t you? We’ve all worn it for a time.
It renders us fearless during those tumultuous and painful years of
adolescence. We try it on when we are perhaps twelve or thirteen, and we grow
into it- until finally it fits like a glove.
We wear it when we hop on
our bikes and zoom across town, and when we finally earn those car keys and
carry the lives of our friends and ourselves in our hands.
As we grow older, a
different kind of fear seems to slowly edge into our soul. The fear that every
parent, sibling or friend tries to keep buried inside – the fear of unexpected
pain and tragedy when something happens to someone we love. It starts as a seed
when you watch your child play with their toys, or when they learn to ride a
bike and cross the street. You know they will have a scrape or a bruise, and it
hurts to see them in pain.
That fear grows as they
do, and when instead of a bike you hand them the keys to your car then you know
real fear. It’s what we feel when they
have donned their own invincibility cloak. Only by now WE know it doesn’t work.
That knowledge that grips
my heart when I hand her the keys
to the car? I swallow it like a bitter pill, and pray that she will be
delivered back to me, safe and sound.
15 comments:
I'm experiencing that now... my daughter is 18 and I've only just now allowed her to drive the highway. SO scary having her drive from Alcatraz (what we jokingly call our town, because we rarely leave it to venture to Dallas), to Dallas for school... she thinks I'm ridiculous.
Ahhh, to feel invincible!
I can't wait to read about your new year of teaching... 1st grade right? I'll live vicariously through you. I am really missing it this year. Especially since I'm pretty certain we won't get our sensory gym up and running after all :(
Today my 18 year old is at driving school. Her schedule and me are the reason she hasn't gone sooner. The other two pestered me for a license, but this one isn't a nagger. I wonder if I was this bad with the other two. It feels worse with this last one and oh, how I wish I could shake it.
I can so clearly relate to what you are saying, especially now that I've entered the parenting season of life and find danger at every turn. My faith is what sustains me! xoxo
smiles....we def have to have faith in this world...particularly with our kids...my greatest fear is that something will happen to one of my boys...
oh no! You just started the whole cycle of my wild dreams again...and my boys are just 8 and 4 now!!
I had some "fear" dreams, too! And, there is no age limit for worrying about the safety of our kids. I try to think of all of the good things that can happen to my kids. Then, I remember to thank God when they do happen!!
Mine has been driving on his own for about two years now and I have to say, I still worry every time he pulls out of the driveway. And the thought of sending him off to college (sans the car, thank God!) has paralyzed me.
My one, huge, nagging fear is of the day when I will no longer be able to care for Skyler. Whether it be that I am too old, or whatever, I know that nobody out there will ever take as good of care of him as me.
I have friends that live on Lemon Rd. in McLean!
chenlina20160312
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