I Felt

Soft gentle eyes saying farewell.  A warm embrace with a kiss.  I knew then that we had left and our journey had begun.  Saying goodbye to my father in law, Ralph, was the moment it sank in.  I had never seen Ralph express such a strong feeling towards me.  It took me out of my stupor of pack-drive-travel and brought me to that precise moment of profound emotion.  He looked at me for while.   A few seconds actually but the feelings he transmitted came from the ages.   His eyes told me he would miss us something awful and the farther our wheels turned, the greater his longing.  He pulled me close for a tight embrace.  He kissed my cheek.  He pulled his head back.  He looked at me again.  I felt so much love in that moment.  He had said so much with a few simple movements.  All I could do was to embrace him back and kiss his cheek.  I was part of him.  He was part of me.  

I think most of the time I don’t feel the world.  I think it.  It’s how I was raised.  A Demetrious tends to gloss over details and focus on the big idea of things.  We let the details work themselves out.  An example of this is when we say goodbye to my parents.  I parked the truck on the other said of there street because their driveway has low hanging tree branches.  Sarah and I went across the street to the truck to load up our belongings.  We left our dogs in the house.  I was outside the truck when I heard my dad screaming at my mom something about dogs.  Generally I wouldn’t think anything about it since my parents tend to communicate in loud voices, but I heard the word dogs.  I turn my head to find our beagle, Olivia, in the middle of the busy street.  And not to far behind her was our poodle, Shae.  My heart sank.  I slowly walked towards them while trying to call them.  I didn’t want to spook them and have them run erratically.  A car was coming near us.  I waved my hands like a lunatic while shouting at the safety beige Saturn to stop while I was directly in front of it.  Thank God, or whoever you thank, it stopped and I scooped up my dogs.  By that time Sarah and my parents had converged at where we were.  Sarah let out a horrific scream.  My dad was fast to calm her down.  We took the dogs to the truck.  I was trembling all the while fueled with fear at what could of happened and anger at  my mom had not closed the front door all the way.  My mom was on her way to the truck to grease us up with holy oil and give us a Bible.  It took a lot for me to resist hurling her Bible and holy oil into the air.  She had no remorse for the grave danger she placed our dogs in.  Her sole care was to somehow smear God on us.  She didn’t feel, she only focused on her making God somehow part of our trip.  We ultimately exchanged farewells but no one acted like we weren’t going to see each other for a year.  The fact that we will relocate to Austin at the end of our travels was a forgotten matter.  

We have left Miami, Ormond Beach, and Florida with fond farewells but no Bible or holy oil.