January 3, 2010

  • i am nothing.

    The spring of my junior year, I did something I had never done before. I had managed to come across some money by helping out someone at church, and so I decided to use the money to buy my mom a gift, just because I could. It wasn't much; somewhere around 50 dollars, if I remember correctly, but I had earned it and so I could spend it how I wanted. I searched for almost two weeks, venturing into candle stores, day spas, and every other place I could think of that might have the perfect gift. I rode my bike into old Bowie one afternoon and went to an antique shop, hoping the perfect gift was there waiting for me. After all that searching, I found the perfect gift in the strangest place. I was in Target one evening, picking up a few essentials, when I came across a Simon and Garfunkel concert DVD in the discount bin. To the casual observer, this probably seems like a gift with no heart to it; why would a DVD communicate the perfect message when I could hand-make a plate or find a precious antique? But trust me; that was exactly what I wanted. It had an element of her personality, it was simple and to the point, and it had an obvious significance since both she and my father love Simon and Garfunkel. I grabbed it from the bin, hastily snatched some wrapping paper on the way out, and rushed home to wrap it. She happened to be out that night and I wanted it to be ready when she got home.

    I got the gift wrapped, labeled and positioned on her pillow just minutes before she walked in the door, and waited patiently. The whole thing went off without a hitch; I can only hope and pray that someday when I choose to propose to the girl of my dreams, it goes off as smoothly as this gift-giving happened. She came downstairs a few minutes after going to bed, gift in hand, and kissed me on the forehead, and then said a short prayer thanking God for a son who was capable of showing love and cared for her so much. I heard her set the DVD next to the TV before she went to bed, and I didn't give it a second thought in the morning. I figured it would take a few months but eventually I would come home one evening and she would be perched on the couch, comfortably relaxing with a cup of tea, enjoying a relaxing serenade from my gift of love. I was so wrapped up in the perfection of my selection that I barely gave it a second thought. The DVD disappeared about a week later and I figured she had just taken it upstairs to enjoy on the TV up there.

    The summer crept to a close and my world was rocked by a breakup, as stunning to my senses as if someone had run a train directly down the middle of my home. After a long run through the neighborhood complete with tears and reckless emotion, I burst into my home again and began to dig through our old cabinet where videos were stored, searching for Toy Story. I could think of no better remedy for a broken heart than Woody and Buzz. At this point, my hunt for a remedy suddenly transformed into a plot straight out of the most stereotypical heart-grabbing Hollywood flicks. Buried at the bottom of a stack of assorted movies, covered in dust and still in the plastic wrapping, was the very DVD I had spent so many hours searching for. It had clearly never been watched, cared for, or even touched, since being stowed away a few days after that seemingly perfect evening of gift giving.

    In the most embarrassing and humiliating display of anger I have shown to this day, I snapped. I had just been dumped, I was hot, sweaty, dehydrated, I hated my job, summer was basically over, and I had just found this gift that took me so long to find had been ignored as if I was a two-year old with a drawing of scribbled crayon that was praised until I was out of earshot. I grabbed the DVD from the stack and threw it on the ground, where I stomped on it until it cracked and the disc fell out. I snapped the disc into tiny pieces, took the whole thing, mixed with assorted photographs taken that summer, and I burned it in the front yard until there was nothing but a tiny black mark against the tan pavement. When my mom got home, I screamed at her. I told her how much of a lousy, good-for-nothing mother she was because I spent my money on that gift and she just put it away. I made sure there were tears in her eyes and then I stormed off to wallow in my teen-age angst.

    I came home from Somerset a few hours later, stomped into the house, and slammed my door as loud as possible. It met the frame with a satisfying crash, and my frustration alleviated for a tiny second before it all came crashing back. I holed myself in my room for the rest of the night, alternating between angry tirades, endless tears, and posts on here. I ignored my mom every time she would gently knock on the door. Dinner? No thanks, not hungry. Dessert? Nope, don't want any. I was content with bathing myself in my own misery until I eventually fell asleep.

    A little later on, another gentle knock on my door came. I ignored it, but it persisted, so I finally barked out a "what do you want?" My mom slowly opened the door, a concerned look on her face, and the clear remnants of tears in her eyes. I looked up, saw that face and the love and compassion and grace and mercy that she had for me, even in the face of everything I had said and done, and I broke into a million tiny pieces. If there is a lower and more worthless feeling on this Earth, I defy you to find it, because I was nothing but dust that night; a tiny little speck of worthless dust in the presence of trillions of others so much more worthy of her love than I. I had screamed and cursed like no person should ever allow themselves to act. My emotions, difficult as they may be, had taken ahold of me and turned me into a monster that day. If my mom had come into the room and smacked me in the head with a frying pan, she still probably would have earned several thousand more hits before the scale even moved. This woman had carried me for nine months and loved me as her firstborn son for sixteen more, and I treated her like a stranger who had wronged me.

    My mother held me in her arms that evening, and my father set next to her, running his hand on my back and consoling me as I cried. I had never experienced that feeling before; I was a helpless infant, unable to survive without the unconditional love of the two people who will love me without just cause from my birth to my deathbed and into eternity. I acted without cause or justification and committed egregious acts of anger out of pure human spite that released itself in a way that shames me to this day. It is by far the single most embarrassing and pathetic thing I have ever done.

    A few weeks later, I came home in the evening after staying late to help a friend at school; it was dark outside by the time we were done, so she gave me a ride home since she didn't live far away. I came inside and heard something playing in the back room, but didn't think much of it and went back into my own room to settle in and get online. A few minutes later, I ventured into the kitchen to scrounge up some food and found my mom sitting on the couch listening to music. Again, I didn't give it a second thought until she said something. "Ben, sweetheart, come in here for a second." I walked in the room and sat down next to her, and she hit play on the CD player. "I know it's not the same, but I want you to sit and enjoy this song with me." It took a few bars to register with me, but it quickly clicked; "Bridge Over Troubled Water" was gently flowing out of the speakers.

    When you're weary
    Feeling small
    When tears are in your eyes
    I will dry them all

    I'm on your side
    When times get rough
    And friends just can't be found
    Like a bridge over troubled water
    I will lay me down
    Like a bridge over troubled water
    I will lay me down

    When you're down and out
    When you're on the street
    When evening falls so hard
    I will comfort you

    I'll take your part
    When darkness comes
    And pain is all around
    Like a bridge over troubled water
    I will lay me down
    Like a bridge over troubled water
    I will lay me down

    See how they shine
    If you need a friend
    I'm sailing right behind
    Like a bridge over troubled water
    I will ease your mind
    Like a bridge over troubled water
    I will ease your mind

    And again, I sat in my mother's arms and cried, pouring everything out through my silence and her loving grasp. How could someone so wonderful love some lousy fool like me? How could anyone whom I had treated so horribly ever be my strength in times of trouble?

    Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.