It was a little matter, really,
But I felt it in my gut, all day,
I had given love notes to my dear friends,
And one took exception.
At the gym where I work out everyday.
He pulled me into the back room to tell me about it
And to also mention that my colorful spandex workout clothes were not appropriate.
I felt shame.
I knew what it was, but I couldn’t shake it.
I knew that I just had to let it work its course till it dissipated,
But it didn’t lessen, even a little.
I began different scenarios:
-Don’t go back.
-Don’t go back on the days she worked.
-Tell her I was sorry . (Her supervisor said he would)
-Go back as though nothing had happened, like an adult.
Finally after a wonderful birthday party filled with love,
It began to melt.
Until the middle of the night.
2 a.m. And I’m dealing with it, again.
All through this experience I’m thinking that Jeff (the Holy Spirit)
Has some life lesson going on.
It had all the hallmarks: deep emotional response, critical to my love experiment, and a threat to my plan of how to love others (by telling them) and a roadblock to what I wanted to do.
Finally, about three, I got the message.
It was Shame that killed my father.
You see he had committed suicide when I was nine.
He had been chasing other women, drinking to excess, and abusing my mother, but
It wasn’t until she served him with divorce papers that he decided to kill himself.
He did it, I believe, because all that he was doing was about to be made public.
He couldn’t live with the shame.
I remember the Super Christmas we had a month before he died.
He was making up for something with outrageous gifts.
I didn’t know that at the time he was already out of the house.
And the next month he took drugs (he was a veterinarian)
This is a great insight for me. I changed my last name two years ago because he had done this.
Now I feel his pain, his shame.
I’m sorry he felt this.
I love you dad.
thanks Jeff, for the lesson.
I love you too.
-Small town boy