Afraid of the Dark

This is terribly embarrassing to admit- being the tough, former Marine, and man of the house- but lately I've been afraid of the dark. The fear sneaks up on me when I am alone, just before bed, (I usually go to bed after my wife) or when I wake in the middle of the night. My chest begins pounding and my mind begins racing. I feel utterly alone and vulnerable. I remember what it is like to think I am going to lose the love of my life.

About one week ago I awoke at 3a.m. to a loud thud and what had to be the most God awful sounds ever to escape the mouth of human being. My eyes opened wide with terror and I yelled for my wife. I leaped from my bed to find Charity seizing on the bathroom floor, a pool of blood surrounded her head.

My mind flashed to the day before when Charity and I sat together and signed disclaimers for the medications she would be taking for our in-vitro procedure. The risks included stroke, blood clot and even death. We didn't even hesitate. We were so excited about this amazing opportunity, we didn't even consider that something like this could really happen.

I was horrified.

I held Charity tight as her rigid body continued convulsing for what seemed like an eternity. In reality it was probably only 15 seconds. I kept yelling for her, desperately hoping that my voice would penetrate her altered consciousness.

Finally she came back to and I was beginning to put the pieces of the puzzle together as I overcame the disorientation of going from dead sleep to 100 miles per hour. I made her lay still and stroked her hair to try and calm her down. When I rolled her on her back the source of the blood was revealed- a gash just below her hairline on her forehead. She had passed out and hit her head hard on the tile floor. We would find out later in the ER that she had fractured her skull. The blow had triggered the seizure.

Charity has no recollection of the ordeal. The last thing she remembered was sitting down to use the restroom and then waking up to me yelling for her. Her first request was for a glass of water to pour on her head- she felt flush and nauseous.

As I stood by the refrigerator waiting for the glass to fill up, the gravity of the situation must of hit me. All of the emotions, the adrenaline and the shock came to a point. It hit me like a ton of bricks and without warning.

I woke up beside a pantry door in shambles with broken glass all around me. All I could think about was my wife waiting for me on the bathroom floor. What's wrong with me, I thought. I got up and retrieved a new glass and filled it with water. Only this time I began to feel the attack coming. I made my way toward the couch where I passed out for the second time.

I write this all down because I don't want to forget the way that I felt that dreadful morning. I have never loved my wife more than in those moments where she lay completely helpless in my arms. I had never truly known the meaning of "One Flesh", until that important day. And though that fear creeps up on me in the evening, I'm am even more afraid to see it subside, as it seems to be doing. It pains me to know that at some point in the future I will likely take this life for granted- and lose respect for its briefness and fragility once again. I will say something hurtful to my wife, act selfishly toward my family, or even have a drink a little too often. I thank God for my reminder of how important this is. It is a gift that can not be wasted.