Frustration overwhelms me after lying in bed, thinking mind blowing thoughts, only to forget those ideas in the morning. It is painful to Almost know what I am driven to say only to lose it in the morning. I lay in bed the other night speaking to myself, and feeling that the words were just right, made sense just enough, that maybe it would make a difference. And then those words were gone. Such pain -such frustration.
Was it the ridiculous way parents hold their child’s hand as they assure them that they, especially, are special. How everyone gets a trophy and nobody needs to earn one? Was it the way that a child’s feelings trumps a learned morality?
Was it the dog I had to follow until it finally found its way home, only to ask the indifferent owner, “is this your dog” to hear, yeah, why. Why? Because he was halfway to dead dog road and you didn’t even know it was gone.
What was I thinking about? Was it about my desire to know God, but instead finding the tithing capital of Houston?
Was I worried about my daughter having nightmares, dreams of Iraq, dreams of her fear of not having children, dreams of love lost. Is my frustration that I Almost know how to help but never truly do. Did I know something then that I don’t know now?
What did I figure out? What were the words that are now gone? I Almost know, but then I wake up.