The lighthouse & the storm

When does the pain stop? When does that black hole start to close? All the time, tears, and torture seem to be all for nothing some days. I have the mental clarity to be able to look at everything in hindsight and realize that I am not having bad days every day. I'm not breaking down, rocking back and forth on the floor of my bedroom when my son isn't here. I'm not crying every time I drop him off at his mothers, or when he tells me he loves me, or asks me what is wrong.  I'm tired of feeling like I'm broken though. Even though I can recognize I have many better days, there are still storms that rage. Black, bleak, windy, crashing seas where I am lost in my own head and a heaviness that lingers on my chest that can drive men to a watery grave. 

I find that the gray days of New England, especially on the coast tend to match how my soul is feeling. Great fog banks on the ocean that roll into town covering everything in a thick, damp blanket. Porch lights can cut through just enough to know they are there, and the sounds of life muffled. Stillness and quiet. You are enveloped and surrounded. No escape. As drab as it can be, those fog banks can be powerful, beautiful, carving the landscape and formulating what coastal life can be. They can also be devastating, cold, salty, abrasive, and leach your body of resources that you need to drive yourself to progress. I find that fog bank in me some days.

I have had a beacon of hope however over the last almost two years. A pillar of support for me, that Lighthouse that shines through the dark and fog to guide the ships home. She is an amazing lighthouse. a strong lighthouse, a beautiful lighthouse, and has been weathered by her own storms in life, though you cannot see those cracks, and chips. Her storm was raging when I met her, yet despite long days and nights she has shown. She was a pillar of support in her daily job, and outside of her daily job to friends, family, and me. She saw me in that same storm getting tossed around, battered by the wind and seas. Masts broken,and sails in the water as I was ready to capsize. My crew all but abandoned ship, and I was headed for the jagged rocks.  She saved me in that storm, and  brought me in to the safety of her harbor, behind the breakwater, and lead me to where I can start repairs. This lighthouse, though it had weathering, and repairs of it's own  shown beautiful amongst the landscape, stood taller than the fog and mist,and equipped with many mirrors to reflect her light towards myself and others. It was beautiful, and provided hope which cut through the bleakness, and wind; thus providing calm and peace, if not for but a brief minute at times. Those minutes sometimes felt like welcomed sunny days, a brief timeout of comfort and hope, while being battered by the nor'easter. 

In harbor, we tended to each others repairs. mended sails, repaired planks, found things that needed to be sewn. We supported each other, and made sure that each made it through their storm, together, a team, mighty lighthouse & ship. She helped me release the fallen that were still on my ship that needed to move on to other places, to go home and be with other family. A major repair from a battle many years ago. Without the lighthouse the ship cannot survive, and without the ships the lighthouses wouldn't exist.  We survived our storms. We can focus on continuing to heal, repairing, mending; for future storms will come that need to be weathered. Such is the fate of the sea. 

How can we continue to mend, if someone is cutting sails, or dismantling repairs. the Lighthouse cannot continue to stand if not being maintained, and the grounds manicured.  I damaged and hurt that light house last night, and for the first time, saw that lighthouse shine a little less bright. A little dimmer because of the actions and words of the ship and crew during another storm that was raging, and a captain, lost, due to rogue waves, and heavy fog. That lighthouse, the lighthouse that stands so straight and tall on the edge of those rocks, a beacon of hope to others, needs to be bright so that other ships can see her leading them. This cannot be done if we are dismantling it. The lighthouse is not a secondary thought to those ships captains. Captains, responsible for their crew, and cargo do not take those light houses for granted. they see them for what they are, tall, strong, beacons of hope and light leading them to safe passages. safe passages that lead the crew home, back to their loved ones, back to their purpose of life.  I look at this light house on my phone at the moment, a constant reminder of the beauty and strength of it. I need to remember that even though a storm may be raging, and the fog may be settling that words can still hurt, and create another repair that needs to be mended and tended to. 

My ship could have run aground that night two years ago, but it didn't because of that lighthouse. That lighthouse will forever be in the forefront of my mind because of how bright it shown. If you have a lighthouse, be a good care taker. Make sure that those mirrors shine, and the windows are clean. Do not dirty the windows, or blow the candles out, for if you do, that lighthouse will not be there for you, during the calm or when the gales start to blow.