STORYTIME TAPESTRY

The Newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world

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Special Treat ??“ David Wainland

Oct 29, 2005? 

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Time That Heals

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By David Wainland

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Time, like a cool sheet on a warm summer??™s night, slides over us and helps erase the pain of the day.?  Yet we must revisit it on occasions to more fully understand where the hurt originated.

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For me it began on a long stretch of I-26, heading east, homeward bound from Asheville, N.C. It was the morning of July 6^th, 2003 and I was wallowing in self gratification having enjoyed a four-day vacation with my wife Jamie, my Greyhound dog Jaffa, and our wonderful host Bonnie. Twenty-five miles west of I-95 we receive the call that would change our lives forever. It was a hospital in Coconut Creek, Florida informing us that our thirty-year-old son Jeremy had been admitted D.O.A. that morning.

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Needless to say it was a tortuous, sad and very long ride to Boca Raton.

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Two years later the grey mist of sorrow has begun to lift. We have passed through the long tunnel of self incrimination and the days of ???What ifs and had I.??? There is no one or no single place to blame. It was simply another sad day in a troubled time.

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Determined to exorcize our demons my wife and I decided, against the advice of many others, to retrace our path, to revisit that road to Ashville and to once more rejoice in the 4^th of July as it was intended. We would go there to languish, to laugh, to raise flags, celebrate our countries independence and my son??™s life, not to mourn his death or rage at fate and God.

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We were thirty miles past the spot were we learned of his death before we realized it and only one hundred miles later we saw the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains rising above the horizon. Our destination was a mere two hours further nestled in one of the great valleys that surround those tree covered hills.

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The anniversary of his passing came, not without sadness, but absent of the terrible fear that we, our family and friends had so worried about. After all, it wasn??™t Asheville or Route-26 that had taken him away from us.

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So rewarding was our visit that we have decided to make this an annual pilgrimage.

What better place to be when we feel the need of talking to him then on one of God??™s mountains?

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Yes, the cool sheets of time have helped to sooth my sorrow and I have come to truly understand the meaning of my adopted personal credo, ???It??™s not what happens, it??™s what you do about it that counts.???

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Companion piece:

Healing Time

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By David Wainland

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Time, like cool sheets on a summer night,

slides over us, erasing the pain of the day.

It begins for me on the homeward leg

of a weekend trip to Asheville.

and ends a million miles from nowhere,

my heart torn and bleeding,

for the loss of a son.

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The years, two of them, slide by,

traveling down a grey tunnel

of what ifs and had I only??¦

No one and no place to blame,

another sad day in a troubled time,

in a troubled world.

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I long to exorcize my demons and

travel that path once again,

into the Blue Ridge Mountains,

past the place I tremble of,

reliving the sound of death,

hoping peace will overtake me.

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The anticipation of fear is worse,

far worse then the fear itself.

What better place to feel,

and speak with my son,

when I have the need,

then from the summit

of one of God??™s creations.

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Yes, the cool sheets of time,

help sooth my sorrow.

So I go forward knowing,

in a world of pain,

it??™s not what happens,

it??™s what you do about it,

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David Wainland

David @ DavidWainland.com

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About Me:

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I am a professional artist and metal sculptor known as Sculptoons and I??™m the creator of custom tabletop items. I paint as well as cartoon. My work is displayed at art festivals in Florida.

My passion is writing and I have completed two novels, Matecumbe Key ?©, about the 1935 Labor Day Hurricane and Red Absinthe ?©, a murder mystery set in 1926 New Orleans. When I am not working on my art I write stories, poetry and essays about life.

I??™m married and the father of two. My son passed away in July of 2003 and left behind a beautiful daughter. Just one of my three grandchildren. My daughter and her family live in New Jersey