Though his eyes are smarting and his body keeps telling
him to pull over he just can't.
As if hypnotized by the white line he keeps staring
at it, driving further and further away from the pain.
Every now and then he checks the rear vision mirror to make
sure that he is not being followed and every time he sees
his haggard face staring back at him he wonders who
the hell he is.
He sure don't recognize the face in the mirror.
What's happened to me? I used to know who I am
and what I stand for. I used to be respected and treated
with dignity. Now......I have no idea about anything.
How can one momentary lapse of judgement change
a whole life? What possessed me to make me behave in such
an arbitrary manner?
Images of the incident flashes before
his eyes and he can feel his stomach turning.
Quickly he pulls over to the side of the road, stumbles
out of the car and throws up what little is still left in his stomach.
Slowly he raises his head, wipes his mouth with the back
of his hand and lets out a heavy sigh.
He is so tired that he feels as if he is unable to move,
so he closes his eyes, stands still and just listens.
All he can hear is his own breathing, his heart pounding
and the voice of his boy saying: Don't go daddy, don't go.
He feels tears burning behind his eyelids threatening to
break through his hard fought for and toughened countenance.
Before he knows it he falls to his knees and begins to cry.
In the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night,
on the side of a road with no name, wailing and spluttering
he finally allows himself to really see himself.
What he sees he doesn't like and though he knows how and why
he got to be what he has become, he no longer wants to be that man.
How do I change? How do I unknow what I know?
How do I undo what I have done? Where do I begin?
Sitting on the ground with his arms wrapped
around his knees and staring across a vast desert landscape
thoughts race around his weary mind .
So lost is he in his thoughts that when a car pulls up behind his
car he doesn't hear it.
Suddenly he feels a hand on his shoulder.
He jumps to his feet and standing in front of him stands
an old man holding a small dog in his arms.
-Son, are you alright? the man asks.
-Sure, sure, I just felt a bit sick, that's all, he answers and squeezes
out what he hopes looks like a smile.
-Me and Betsy saw your car idling with the drivers side door opened
and thought perhaps you were in trouble so we thought we better
check, says the man with the dog.
-Thank you Sir for your concern, but I'm alright, he says but the
look on the old man's face tells him that he doesn't believe him.
-Son, I can tell that you are not alright. Betsy and I are in no
hurry, so why don't you tell us what troubles you?
Is this where I begin, is this when I become me again? he asks himself.
Still with the little dog in his arms the old man goes up to the still
idling car and turns it off.
-Come on son, let's go and sit in my flatbed truck and have a chat.
As if in a trance he follows the old man and they climb into
the truck.
-Son, tell me what's hurting you.
-Sir, I'm a lawman, but two years ago I was involved in an incident
in which an innocent bystander was killed. There was an inquiry
and I was cleared, but I couldn't forgive myself, and I couldn't
let it go. I started to drink too much, stay out late, treat my son
and my wife badly, and I became a person I hated.
I lost my self-respect, my sense of dignity, and became an ill-tempered
and angry man. One night, full of liquor and anger I pushed my
wife so hard that she fell over and broke her arm.
Seeing her on the floor, holding her broken arm and crying
something in me snapped and I knew I had to leave.
As I walked to my car to take off my son followed me,
crying and begging me not to go. How can I go back after
what I did? How can I fix what I broke?
-Son, do you love your wife and son?
-Yes, Sir, I do.
-Do you believe in forgiveness?
-Yes, I do.
-Do you want to mend what you broke?
-Yes, I do.
-Son, hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.
Mistakes are always forgivable if we have the courage to
admit them. Forgiveness is a gift that we can give not only
to others but also to ourselves, and forgiveness is love
in action.
Are you brave enough to go back to your wife and son
and ask for their forgiveness?
Are you brave enough to let go of your bad habits and
be the best man you can be?
Are you brave enough to try to repair the relationships
that you may have damaged?
-Yes, I think I am. What must I do, Sir?
-Lawman, you must get in your car and go back
with love and forgiveness in your heart and begin to
repair your life.
However, Betsy and I will have to leave you now because we
have other hearts to tend to.
Betsy, as if she had understood everything the old man had said
suddenly jumped into the lawman's lap urging
him to move out of her seat.
As he got out of the flatbed truck he thanked the old man
and Betsy for having spent time with him.
He jumped into his car, started it, drove it onto the road,
threw a quick glance in the rear vision mirror but
strangely, there was no sign of the truck.
What he did see however, was the most beautiful sunrise
he had ever seen.
''As we know, forgiveness of oneself is the hardest of
all forgivenesess.'' (Joan Baez)
about the image: ink and graphite on cardboard
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