Daze Gone By, From Being… The Hulk A very “special” heart story to share… More years ago than I truly want to admit… a young, toe headed blonde adolescent, used to call me “Hulk.” Its origin, is a story for another day… Today, at a family reunion, and one that convenes annually for a “day after” romp groping over, and grubbing through Turkeyday leftovers — a very pleasant surprise was unexpectedly dropped in my lap, totally unanticipated by me, when I walked into the room. That same, oft times overly precocious young child that once tested the limits of his curious universe when reaching for the stars, appeared right in front of me earlier this evening… possessing that same, inviting glowing glint in his eyes, and that still, childlike sheepish grin that was so wonderfully imprinted on my heart by God, those many long years ago… Here’s the story… I was living in Newport Beach with this young tike, his three brothers, two younger and one older — and their parents, while still moving past earlier, very dark experiences that nearly ended my life two years earlier. I was working for my older cousin, their dad, at one of the three child guidance facilities in Orange County that he captained. One day, Mark’s dad decided we were going to head off to the local nursery. On this particular warming spring day, we would fetch newly harvested sod to install on the prepared topsoil that housed its new sprinkler system we had placed the day before. It was a “DYI — Do It Yourself” home improvement weekend. Of course, me being that still young and fresh, ex-football jock with Hulk-like muscles to spare, was earning my keep, by bonding with The Creator’s iron, and sharpening my ever evolving character. I was built divinely, and made to work with my hands, and during one point in the day’s events, this young lad decided he would push the envelope of his curiosity — just a little too far. As I was rolling out and cutting sod, stretching out on my hands and knees — young Mark decided to exercise his childish, impish manner — kicking at my right arm and taunting me, while I attempted to work. Very much the way, a lion cub would challenge… The King of the jungle. Well, as any rational human would consider, that weary lion, me, had enough of the taunts and kicks coming his way, and… with one mighty sweep of my flesh raking outstretched right arm and extended meathook across the nimble legs of this taunting heathen —young Mark, soon found himself laying, upended on his keester — in tears… more shocked than hurt, because something had taken him quite by surprise… ME! The King of the jungle. If that experience, and a lesson that should have been learned wasn’t enough in playing with fire… Soon after, another event occurred, and no doubt did, because young Mark probably figured that “The Hulk” would have forgotten about his previous, transgression. NOT! Does the turn of a phrase: “When the cats away, the mice will play,” have significant presence here? Oh yeah, it does! The stage was set… Mom and Dad went out for an evening of “let’s catch our breath” getaway escape — especially since they had a Hulk-like built in bodyguard to watch over their prized brood of highly playful ragamuffins, a charming lot of cuddling fun that seized every possible moment they could to rough house — and otherwise turn their quite smug domicile, and one dutifully ruled by a lioness they did not test, or push too far, as the consequences for misdeeds exhibited were painfully experienced when turning their comfortable lair into a raucous playhouse of impassioned mirth and merriment. Let the games begin… You can only imagine from how this tale has woven; just who the ring leader was in this strategic ploy to offset what I had otherwise hoped would be a nice evening of television, relaxing back with my enormous bowl of popcorn, and gallon of Bessy’s white magic, calcium strengthening elixir, and settling into an evening of watching my favorite shows—uninterrupted. The escalation, began… The noise soon grew to unacceptable voluble levels in the adjacent room — after of course, I had given, easy to understand, emphatic directives that I wanted quiet in the house so I could relax. Games with siblings were to be played at a decibel level congruent with my wishes, especially since I had to oversee four of those devilish hoodlums that evening exhibiting angelic faces and smiles that wrapped around your heart and soul. AAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH! The soul shaking contrast that pushed and pulled! One warning… Then a second… And then a third, until my fuse was lit, and I issued a final directive and ultimatum should a violation result countermanding my request… and the consequential time out that would ensue as promised. “I’m warning you guys! If you don’t knock it off, I’ll grab your jump ropes, tie you up, and stuff you in the hall closet!” Uh huh, you guessed it. I thought this little scare tactic would do the trick. Right? NOT! You can only imagine what young Mark did with this mere threat assaulting his wily ways as that dark lord of mischief hell-bent on showing ME, who was boss became an apparition in his mind that would soon lead to tethered discomfort leaving him the mirrored image of a rodeo victory. Being one raised to always follow through on his word, it wasn’t long before my otherwise gentle, giant like loving hands had morphed, and transformed into giant child meat grippers, clutching fast to the fleeing offenders, and making good on my promise — with a sequestered time out following, post haste. Of course, this solitary confinement that was about to take place would only last long enough until tears of sorrow and sincere atonement echoed their souls remorse regarding their willful act of disobedience. Dr. Spock would be rolling over in his grave… BUT, he was only a mere observer in life, and not one to have rolled up his sleeves at the ground level to get after What Matters Most in a person’s life — accountability, and TOUGH LOVE! With the violators set within their dark, imprisoned space, it wasn’t long until the gnashing of teeth and wailing began. Ah, victory… How sweet its sound, and a life lesson imprinted on a young mind regarding the prices we pay when life’s piper comes calling. Present day… When Mark and I shared our reuniting hug, the grand memory wheel began to spin, and with it, precious cargo of those special days gone by so very long ago found favor with my heart. “I tell my kids about the closet, and what you did when we got out of line that day. They want none of it, and toe the line! You taught me well.” Lesson learned, and passed on, without even taking the same steps. A gentle, disciplinary imprint once cast on a young mind, can last a lifetime. There are ALWAYS consequences for our actions. Good gets good. Bad gets bad, as it should be. But when it comes from a point of unconditional love, it finds psychological favor, and no harm, no foul. An addendum to this story… Not long after, and a point when I had returned home from my time spent with Mark and his family had found its Omega, a card arrived in the mail, sent from Mark. In opening the card it simply read: “Hulk” with his following endearing words that have left their cleaving marks deep on my heart and soul. I still have that card, and as time slides by... sometimes, I find it stowed away among my stash of sacred keepsakes, searching for inspiration, and the memory wheel spins all over again, spilling out its precious cargo on my heart and soul. And the magic begins, all over again. LOVE… Life doesnt get much better, does it?
Posted on: Sat, 29 Nov 2014 08:20:51 +0000
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