He was fuming when he got home.
“Don’t talk to me!” he yelled at his wife as he brushed past her in the kitchen.
“Rough day?” she smiled, knowing what was about to happen. “I unlocked the tunnel for you” she said as she turned back to go check on the kids. This was a regular occurrence at night after work, Tom would come home from work and either something happened on the job, or someone in traffic pissed him off, or he was back to being the leader of his self-proclaimed “Itty-Bitty-Shitty Committee” and needed to unload. It had gotten better, at least now he knew that he needed to find his tunnel and go wherever it is that he went. She never went in the tunnel, he had asked her not to and as long as it was working, she respected his wishes.
He would go in the tunnel, mad at the world and would come out relieved and relaxed and ready to be part of the family again, a wonderful part of it. She had asked about where the tunnel had led to several times, but he just told her that it was personal and he wasn’t ready to share it with her, but that some day he would. Maybe today was the day. She would wait for him and ask.
Sure enough, 30 minutes later he came out and was a different man, the one that she fell in love with and loved with all her heart. He came out, apologized to her as usual, hugged and kissed her and asked how her day was. He always wanted to know about her day before he would tell her about his, something he said that he had to do.
“Did you learn that in the tunnel?” she said, somewhat sarcastically.
“Learn what?”
“That you always need to hear about my day before you talk about yours”
“Yup” he said grinning
“Really?”
“Yup. I think it is time.”
“For what?”
“For you to know about my tunnel.”
“You don’t have to do that, I know it is a personal thing that, for whatever reason, helps you.”
“Come on” he said, taking her hand in his and leading her to the door
For some reason she felt nervous, apprehensive, wondering what she was going to see in this tunnel of his. He led her into the door, into complete and total darkness. It was the kind of darkness that one does not know whether their eyes are open or closed. She walked along, holding on tightly to his arm.
“When am I going to be able to see. . .umm. . . .it?”
“You won’t”
“Won’t what?”
“See it”
“What?”
“You’ll feel it. Come on, hold on to my arm, just a little bit further. Don’t be so nervous, you will love it”
“But Tom, how can I love it if I can’t see. . . . “
At that moment, a feeling came over her like none she had ever felt. A warmth growing from her belly, spreading throughout her entire body, arms and feet tingling, mind no longer worrying or caring about. . . .well, anything. She closed her eyes purposefully and a bright light filled her mind, as if no other thoughts could exist inside her. She realized that she had let go of Tom’s hand and now felt like she was floating in liquid, warm and inviting. She could stay here forever she thought.
What seemed like hours passed, suddenly she realized that she was standing in a dark room
“Tom!!” she yelled
“I’m right here. You OK? Ready to go back?”
“What just happened? That was. . . unreal!” she exclaimed.
“I know, it is what I need to get through most days.” he responded.
“Well, why didn’t you tell me about this before?” she said, feeling a bit of anger and resentment building up against her husband for keeping this to himself.
“He told me that it was not time.” Tom replied.
“He? Who the hell is he?” She demanded.
Suddenly the feeling came back over her, putting her mind at ease and allowing her to float again, or so it seemed. She smiled as she came back to Tom, “I’m sorry, I just don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t, neither did I. I needed to come here every day for a long time to understand that I will never fully understand how this room works. All I know is that it works, and now I can share it with you.”
“Thank you” was all that she could think to say.
As they walked back the way that they came, she put her head on his shoulder and felt more loved than she had ever felt. Felt like no matter what happened the rest of the day, everything would be OK.
“Tom?”
“Yes”
“How did you find that place?”
“I don’t know to be honest, something just told me to go through the door and I did. Guess I just got sick and tired of being sick and tired, all the anger in the world, the rat race, not feeling like I was being a good husband to you or a good father to the kids, and something told me to go there and that it would be OK.”
“Who is he?”
“What?”
“You said that he told you that I wasn’t ready.”
“I never said that you weren’t ready, just that it wasn’t time. Wasn’t time for me to be able to share this with someone else, no matter who they were. That I had been so self-centered and ego driven for so long, that I had to work on me before I could even contemplate helping someone else.”
“Oh. I don’t know what to say. Thank you I guess for picking me” she said.
“There is no one else that I would want to share it with first.” he said and kissed her on the cheek.
“Aww” she started to tear up. “So, are you going to tell me who he is?”
Tom smiled and opened the door so that they could exit the tunnel.
“Sure. . . .He is God.”
August 19th, 2014 at 11:52 am
Absolutely incredible. Lost for words except thank you so much. Your beautiful story telling tells so very many profound things.
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August 19th, 2014 at 2:11 pm
Thank you, just returning the favor for all the inspirational words you share
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August 19th, 2014 at 5:50 pm
O! MY ! Gosh! That is such a gripping and wonderfully written story. I really liked it. 🙂 Thank you.
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August 19th, 2014 at 5:54 pm
Thank you, glad you enjoyed it
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August 20th, 2014 at 12:09 am
Great story. It is so sad that so many of us spend our lives working miserable jobs, living miserable lives, isn’t it? I am very fortunate that I got to step back from my life during my cancer treatments. I made several decisions: “Things” aren’t important, so why live with more than you need? “Time” is important. We have a very limited amount of it in our lives – why waste something so precious? “Happiness” and “Health” are what is important. Other than that, what do our “Things” actually mean?
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