Dreaming of Control
Dreaming of Control

There’s something refreshing about waking up to the warm sun beaming through a window, something that births a restless energy in my spirit. The kind of energy that means I either need to get a bleeding heart tattoo that says “MOM” or jump in my car and drive – windows down, music blaring.

Because the idea of a needle piercing my skin incessantly as I pray an angry bee doesn’t land on my nose is more than I can handle, I always opt for a nice, mind-clearing drive.

Though looking forward to the solitude, I ended up with three passengers. I didn’t mind the tagalongs. In fact, I smiled upon seeing their faces – the face of a Past sometimes too painful to remember, a Present I embrace with deep joy and a Future that lends itself to visions of profound happiness.

The Past always comes for a mental visit on my road trips, so I wasn’t surprised to see the face of my Brother as he moved into the back passenger seat.

Looking in the rearview mirror, I searched my brain for a face from my childhood, the face of a creative jokester. I searched for the face of the brother who, in spite of big brother pokes and ribbing, I held in high esteem and generally loved to pieces. I searched for a glimpse of the relationship we once shared.

Sadly, death took something from us – something weighty, painful and irreplaceable. The moment our mother left us physically, my brother left me emotionally. Love no longer existed, only infrequent, polite conversation. No depth. No feeling. No Past. And I missed it.

I looked away, avoiding a tearful moment, and saw the Present. Without hesitation, my Dad jumped into the passenger seat. He enjoyed being co-pilot, switching between offering travel guidance and searching the glove box & console to see what I was carrying around.

Although I didn’t grow up with my Dad, as an adult, life opened doors to grow with my Dad. I admired his strength, intelligence and work ethic. And although his life had been riddled with varied tribulations, his heart remained big, wanting nothing more than to love and be loved. My Present was full of love and acceptance. And I wanted to hold on to it.

As I relished time in the Present, my Future, with Its calm but solid presence, slipped into the seat behind me. I dropped the overhead mirror to check facial expressions against the conversation.

My Future had the eyes, smile and knowledge of happiness personified. I wasn’t looking for the love that ever-so-casually entered my life, but every “Hi” made each encounter better than the last. And I didn’t want to let go.

Past, Present and Future surrounded me – three different personalities, each equally important. As everyone settled in, my thoughts turned to the road ahead. Light laughter coupled with the rustling of glove compartment stuff was the background music of choice. I smiled to myself, feeling this was going to be an unforgettable drive.

One deep breath and everything changed. The sky opened, drenching our path. The road became unstable with bumps and pits. Detour signs popped up intermittently. My hands strangled the steering wheel, attempting to keep control. The accelerator had a mind of its own. My foot slipped from the break again and again. My eyelids filled with panic-covered tears.

My Brother spat profanity, wishing he had left me in the past. My Father thanked God he was here, in the present, to help. And my Future remained quiet, touching my arm with loving reassurance.

Suddenly I saw the edge of a cliff before me. All background notes faded. Only silhouettes of my Past, Present and Future remained.

Quietly, I called on my Angels. The Angels I continued to hope would repair the wounds of my Past. The Angels I trusted to protect the happiness of my Present. The Angels I knew would continue to unveil the beauty attached to my Future.

And as if someone else was going to steer, my hands let go of the wheel.

Startled, I jumped up. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I took several deep breaths, trying to keep my heart from leaping out of my chest. It was a dream…just a dream.

I took several deep breaths as I regained consciousness. It was a dream…just a dream.

Just as I prepared to lay back down, I heard the voice of my Angels, in unison, almost singing – Sherry. I am in control. Let go. It’s time for you to let Me take control. I know your heart’s desire. Just let go and be patient.

Without a second thought, I lay my head down, falling back to sleep.

Sherry Samuels: Writing: The Final Frontier. Although just entering her mid thirties, Sherry has seen and experienced a great deal in this life and knows the rest of the journey, however long it may be, will be spent writing about the precious (and not so precious) moments. Enjoying everything from opportunities to strut her stuff in her rainbow-colored tutu to a lazy day with a Golden Girls marathon, Sherry really is a touch of sugar, a pinch (or three) of spice and everything (most days anyway) nice. Sherry grew up in the Midwest, has spent the last 13 years becoming a southerner and now looks forward to the potential to take on a whole new region in this great land…or another. Until she starts her blog, you can keep up with Sherry on Facebook.

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2 Comments

  1. Mary Waite
    Posted January 4, 2012 at 9:51 am | Permalink

    Thanks for taking us along for the ride. I guess you didn’t know that I was hiding in the trunk of the car the whole time … keeping an eye out for you. I love your vivid imagery.

  2. Blanchie
    Posted December 17, 2011 at 5:33 pm | Permalink

    I feel like you are just getting into the heart and soul of where you are these days.

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