Paradise

Paradise

When I was a child one of my favorite shirts had the word paradise and a beautiful sunset on it.

When I was a child one of my favorite shirts had the word paradise and a beautiful sunset on it. I loved that shirt. I wore it often. I am not sure where my parents purchased the shirt, we surely did not visit Paradise— I am not sure if we had a family vacation back then. The shirt was in great condition, so I do not believe it was a yard sale purchase. The shirt was probably a PX (Post Exchange) purchase.

This shirt would later become a conversation piece. It would also lend a hand in creating a new friendship on the blacktop of my elementary school.

My new friend was nice with a sweet smile, and up to that point of my young life, I had never met anyone with her name. I was happy getting to know her at recess. Her friends and my friends would meet up after lunch and play.
One day our friendship stopped.
Our friendship did not stop because of either of us.
It did not stop because it had to.
It stopped because of the man in the white van who needed help finding his dog on MOTHER’S DAY.
That vile man has impacted my life.
I am unable to parent the way I would like to because of that man and others like him.

Why am I writing this?

Today my breathing intensified and my heart thumped heavily. My 12-year-old son was gone for a while with our dog and I could not see him. I yelled his name. I yelled his name again. As I was about to yell out again I heard, “Yes, mama?” He could tell I was panicked, perhaps it was my hand clenching my chest.
I walked inside the house thinking, how can someone else’s trauma become my own? Followed by the thought I have had many times before, is my trauma theirs?

How can someone else’s trauma become my own?

I have had these moments throughout my 19 years of parenting— the fearful ones because of that man.
I hate that I may be creating ripples of fear in my own children.
When I widen the lens, I realize we may hold a little bit of everyone else’s trauma.
Trauma sadly connects us. It is partly why we like, comment, and subscribe. We have all felt some sort of pain or fear; it is a harsh reality of our human experience. It links us.
Hopefully, through this connection, we can learn to lean in, learn, love, and let go or be at peace.
I have tried many times to be at peace. This haunting memory does not define me or my parenting. However, it has definitely impacted my parenting but it does not rule me. This harmful memory has harbored too much of my space and peace.

Paradise [ par–uh-dahys, -dahyz ]

a place of extreme beauty, delight, or happiness.

a state of supreme happiness; bliss.

I share this fear out loud to hopefully let it go. My wish is to find my own paradise free of fear. I share this story with you not so you take on my trauma but learn from it.
Another Mother’s Day will come and I will most likely think of her and her mom, hopefully without the fear. 🤍

I know it has been a while since I last posted here. This happened today and I had to get it out of my head. I am thankful that you took time out to read this. I hope you are well. XO