Austin**•.¸♥¸.•**not-Texas, Texas, USA
May 28
♪♫ ♥ Diva ♥ ♪♫♥
Mom, partner, listener, healer of wounds large and small, dog-petter, writer, pie baker, star shooter, wine appreciator, hungry muse, part-time pirate and pole dancer.


JULY 29, 2011 4:38PM

The soul of a man

Rate: 21 Flag

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 My heart skips a beat to keep time with the deliberate pauses he adds between words. There is an edge to his voice that I find annoying yet compelling. The words, the pauses, the tone, these are all I have to hang on to at this moment. This white-coated man is a lifeline, a bridge, the only bridge I have as I straddle between what was and what is.

His eye contact is deliberate as well, his eyes moving about the room until he rests between words, takes a breath, and his eyes settle. Our eyes meet, my blue to his brown. For a moment, I glimpse into this man’s soul. I see into him and take in the roominess of his inner life. I step into a room full of colorful art, sculptures leaping, a piano playing in the background. There are pictures of loved ones and I lean in to examine their faces. He is loved, this man, and it is reflected in the framed faces, eyes crinkling, wide mouthed smiles.

I walk into another room. This room has heavy velvet curtains and the air is still, but not stale. This is a room for solitude, for contemplation. Books line the walls. Walking by I trail my hand across their spines. Yes, these books have been read, loved, marked in, exclaimed over. There is sorrow in this room, grief draped over one chair in particular. Perhaps it is here that he contemplates mortality, his own, strangers’, elders. But, not his children: His protection of them is fierce and he forces himself to see them not as vulnerable but as HIS and he will protect them even from himself, his thoughts, if need be. This room is for solitude.

Another room opens up just beyond the bookcases. A faint scent of eucalyptus lingers. The room is small, tiny even, and thickly carpeted. A single chair sits in the center of the room. Upholstered in white the chair calls, come, sit, stay. I am puzzled. I sit in the chair, close my eyes, breathing in deeply. Scenes flash thru my mind, a winding road in the country, the view of an ocean from a balcony, a boy laughing, a woman waving, a tree heavy with figs. I stand, reluctant to leave his beautiful memories, but walk away.

An imposing door blocks my way to the next room. It creaks as I push. The door ajar, I step in and step out quickly. This is where he stores Death. Why would he do this? Why keep this here when he has a choice? He, a keeper of life, a healer, why keep Death? But it hits me that life and death cannot be separated, death cannot be banished. Perhaps by acknowledging death he affirms life. There is courage in this that not many people have. There is bravery in holding on to one’s knowledge of the frailty of life, of knowing we are nothing more than skin and bones waiting to be broken, bloodied, diseased and discarded.

I return to the white chair briefly. I cleanse my palate with flashes of life. Renewed, I leave his soul knowing that he is a man to trust, complicated but honest enough to know he is only a man. He is not a god nor is he godless.

My hand catches at my throat as he pauses. I know he will now make eye contact, here in the pregnant pause of his medical words. I look away.

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This is really, really interesting. The descriptions are rich and vivid, the message poignant. Thanks for another great read!
mypsyche, it is so good to read your words again. ~r
This was beautifully written, but I hope not bad news. Please keep us informed my friend!
Captivatingly written...and frightening. I'm glad this is a retrospective.
so effective that i wanted to know what were is exact words. very captivating.
this is really good, drema. i like the use of rooms as metaphors and especially the room for memories, the white chair. an excellent glimpse into the humanity of a doctor who knows what he knows about someone you love - while you wait for him to tell you. interesting exploration of a past encounter that i'm reminded of. glad you're back.
Sigh....Seeing his eyes through yours makes me sad somehow. To keep a room to deal with all the death you see makes sense and the way you have written it makes me thoughtful. Also with a hope that all is well...
Drema, this was fantastic. I love the methaporical rooms and the insight.
"There is bravery in holding on to one’s knowledge of the frailty of life,"
and also so glad to see its retrospective. I loved it!!
I'd think every doctor would be intrigued by this piece from the viewpoint of a loved one. And I think any doctor would be pleased to have you give him your blessing.
Alysa-thanks for coming by as I get my feet wet again!

Joan--i appreciate your encouragement.

Scanner--fortunately this is a reflection from my son's previous accident and nothing current. Thanks for coming by!
Smithery--I don't think I could have beared writing this at the time so I, too, am glad it is retrospective.

Renatta--I haven't decided if I will write his words...probably, but they still echo in my head.
Hugs-- thanks for coming by!

Candace--the memory room is an idea I want to explore further bcs it could offer so much. I like the idea that we can access solely the good! I'm glad to be back. 

LL2-- yes, it is from 'before', not current, thankfully.
Trilogy--thanks for the praise and kind words!

Bellwether--an interesting thought, to have some docs read it. But, they are human too so it might be of interest. Thanks!
Your words to describe this man's soul
are deep and pure
you captured his yin and his yang
his knowledge of the continuum of life
Beautiful, caring words.
rated with love
Fine writing, capturing the soul of this man. Finer still that this is a retrospective. Well done.

You have more guts than I. Doctors spook me, including myself.
Like lunchlady2, I feel sad reading this, 'though I'm not quite sure why. It's powerful stuff, and I am glad to see you blogging again.
This is astonishing!
So VERY well written! So VERY expressive!
Terrific! Each room its own window into the soul, but only aspects, and only by seeing them all can you see the totality of the man. I like that he knows he's not a god: would make a good doctor then.

Excellently written! This was compelling and fascinating.
Gorgeous precision in all your word & metaphor choices. Yes, I have missed you here too.
"I cleanse my palate with flashes of life." My mantra for the day~ thank you!
This is just breathtaking.
Romantic Poetess--thank you for your kind words.

Scylla--I appreciate your feedback.

Dr.--Doctors spook me too, especially when they know something I don't!

Eva--I'm glad it evoked. I'm glad to be back. I hope your weekend is good!
Interesting and so well done. Glad to see you.
psyche: Clear measured, textured writing which held a dream-like quality to me as I moved from room to room with you. Well done.
So affecting - for me, the last paragraph especially.
Your brain is really cool. I like these carefully chosen words at the end....."honest enough"