Fallen

"There is probably no more terrible instant of enlightenment than the one in which you discover your father is a man - with human flesh." - Frank Herbert

We fall. Sometimes it’s because we weren’t paying attention and tripped over that bump in the carpet or smacked our head on that low beam we didn’t see. Sometimes it’s because we took a chance and climbed out to the thin end of the branch for a sweeter piece of fruit or stood too high to be safe on the ladder. We fall because falling is as natural to us as squinting on a bright day after coming from a dark room. If we get up then falling is unimportant. But sometimes, getting up isn’t as easy as simply getting our feet back under us and standing. Sometimes we need a rail to grab a hold of, or a helping hand. Sometimes we simply need to heal.

I fell. I was out on the thin end of the branch and thought I could get that fruit, but it turned out the fruit was rotten and the branch was weak. I fell and it couldn’t have been a bigger surprise to me if I’d been told I was going to a picnic and had instead been taken out, tied to a post, and given a cigarette and a blindfold. I’m still working on the getting up part and I’m getting a lot of help but it will take time. My worry is what effect my journey back to standing will have on my boys. I don’t pretend that they ever thought I was Superman. Batman sure, but Superman? Children are not supposed to worry if there will be food in the refrigerator. They are not supposed to wonder if they will still be in the same house at the end of the month. They should have the God-given right to assume that their father will be able to keep them fed, healthy, warm, in school, and in a safe neighborhood, without the smallest shred of a doubt. I don’t know if they have doubt now because aside from Dad being home a lot little has changed. Yet.

We stand. We get up because there is no other choice. We reel and stagger like drunken men until of our strength and confidence is returned. It may look awkward but its natural as that squinting thing, and is needed to re-teach our muscles how to walk and then run. We should not be embarrassed by falling but instead take pride in the fact that the bigger the fall meant the bigger the risk. It’s usually the guy at the front of the charge that gets his horse shot out from under him.

I’m standing. I’m not all the way up yet but my chin is. The cuts have healed, the blood was long ago cleaned up, the dirt brushed off, and my face that was once flushed has returned to a more natural hue. I reel and stagger, I’m about as nimble as a newborn camel, and I wish I could just sit down, but I’m here. And I'm standing.