Patmos Isle

The life of a Pastor, one who has been beaten and left to die by his own kind.

Location: Texas, United States

I consider myself as one that has seen the dark side of humanity and has lived to speak of it.

Friday, June 03, 2005

1, 2, 3 ~ !!!

The last words my uncle said to me as I was jumping into the pool for the very 1st time.

I was 7, and I was scared. I remember it so well, because we were at a hotel, out of town, because my grandfather had an accident, an accident that cost him his life. He was doing what he LOVED to do, fish. My grandfather drowned.

Now here I am at 7 years of age, standing on the diving board, scared that I might have an accident, yet my uncle assures me, it is going to be ok, I will catch you as you enter the water. "On the count of 3, ok, you ready, 1,2,3 ~ !!!

By mistake I jumped, by mistake I trusted, by mistake I thought he would do what he said.

Now some 26 years later, I can still see my grandfather in his casket, I remember the 21 gun salute, I remember the flag they handed to my grandmother, I remember my mother crying.

I remember it oh so well, because I remember standing there, thinking to myself, if only someone would have been there to catch us, maybe neither one of us would be dealing with death. My uncle that hot summer day became the one that I could never trust again, he became the one that I avoid and even some 26 years later, I can't see him any different than who he showed himself to be.

I feel as if I have spent 26 years on that diving board, all so alone, oh so scared.
Yet I keep hearing this inner voice.... 1,2,3 ~ !!!


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