On the morning of August 5th, 32 years ago, the perfect soul to become Douglas Kavanaugh was born, and this time around promised to evolve into quite a life experience. In the Land of the Living, some are of the belief that a soul chooses its parents. I’m not so sure. At five years old, I was a bright eyed, curly topped, precocious little kid with a rambunctious spirit. So who’s to say my parents didn’t choose me? For this incarnation, my dad was Jonathan and my mom Estelle. Dad worked at the naval shipyard on what they called the graveyard shift. He’d come home to our modest house in Long Beach, just as the rooster crowed and the coffee pot whistled with enough rhythm and conviction to make even the most tired old soul perk up. Dad was a strapping man with muscles and a mustache. His eyes were as green as Georgia grass and his trademark bushy mullet legendary. His hands were the size of forever. At least that’s what I thought, when they scooped me up and carried me off toward the sky. Or when they gently laid me down on fluffy pillows that whisked my sleepy head away to dreamland. Making use of his booming Southern twang, he howled. “Go on, sleep tight son. It’s just you and the Sandman now.” Sitting up in my bed, in protest I said. “I don’t wanna sleep tight. I’m not tuckered out yet.” With an understanding eye and a comforting tone, my father replied. “Look here, little fella, you like to dream don’t you?” “It’s my favorite thing,” I answered with a most whimsical expression. “That’s where my friends are, in my dreams.” “I know son. Tell you what. I’ll get a couple hours of shut eye as well.” “You are,” I wondered in awe and out loud. “Why? Do you wanna see the Sandman too?” “I’d like to, son. But I gotta see the Boss Man and make it through the long haul tonight. It’s the wee hours that getcha.” I nodded as if I understood. Then lovingly he demanded. “Give your daddy a hug.” He leaned forward and I grabbed hold to his frame and squeezed. Pretending I had super strength, he shouted. “Wow! That’s it! All right my little hero! I’ll see you in the mornin’ before your mama chauffeurs you to school.” That was enough to get me through the night. Just knowing he’d be there, by the time the sun was up. To me, it seemed like the sunshine peeked into our window, as if it wanted to see my daddy just as much. And nobody could tell me any different. Now my mom, she worked for a group of doctors in Signal Hill. People always said she looked like Marilyn Monroe. I didn’t really know who Ms. Monroe was, till one day, while on the couch watching TV with my parents, I saw her in all her glory. She was singing, ‘Happy Birthday, Mr. President.’ “That’s you mommy!” I shouted. “There you are!” Flattered, mom smiled extra brighter and said. “No baby, that isn’t me.” Grinning ear-to-ear, dad playfully stared back and forth at the image on the screen and at my gorgeous mom. Then confidently he yelled. “Well, it could be!” Naively, I added. “Yeah, except you don’t have a fancy dress like the movie star.” Mom threw out a look of disappointment. Catching a full glimpse of it, my dad scooted closer to her and told her. “But when you speak girl, your voice is like a feather in the wind. It floats.” Following that, I said warmly. “And when you’re mad, it echoes like a thunder whistle.” Now sweetly charmed, she rendered a compassionate gaze upon my father and me. Before daybreak, mom always had breakfast ready and my daddy’s coffee poured into an orange ceramic mug. She stirred three teaspoons of sugar in and just a splash of cream the way he liked it. When he stumbled in through the back door he roared. “Good mornin’ – mornin’ y’all!” And with bloodshot eyes, he irritably complained. “Ooh… I’m exhausted, somethin’ terrible.” “I know you are, honey bunny,” mom said sweetly, as she stroked his back and soothed the beastly side of him. Spellbound, he kissed her rosy cheeks and affectionately ruffled my unkempt locks. Then while pretending he was the tickle monster, he chased me around the house. Mom enjoyed giving me and daddy our bonding time. She also took pleasure in making sure things stayed on schedule. When we started running behind, she unleashed the lion tamer within. an excerpt from: The Reincarnation of Douglas Kavanaugh
Posted on: Sat, 29 Nov 2014 03:47:23 +0000
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