Author: TheDon McCoy

The summer breeze blew over me as I lay in the tall grass looking up at the azure sky and puffy cotton clouds passing by. I felt connected to where I was laying. A thought simply crossed my mind. Right now, this moment, it would be okay to die. A strange thought, it was made in a peaceful and contented frame of mind. I continued to lay there and was not aware of the transition from sleep to waking. The sun drifted onto my bed through the window. My comforter was giving me the security of warmth. Looking outside I could see it was a bit blustery and probably cold as it is late October.

The thought stayed with me. But more was the frame of mind and feeling I had in the dream. Death was okay in that peaceful and quite pleasant environment. I pondered the dream thought for the better part of the day. No, in no possible way am I contemplating ending my life. There is too much to do and too many important people in my life that I would not want to endure such a selfish event.

I had come to a conclusion. It actually felt like a global thought. It was like I was the world (large ego, eh?) and it was enough. The pain and hatred, the division and outright anger have been reaching a boiling point. Maybe it was a prophetic reboot dream. I have come to realize after the dream that there are two ways we can come back from this true hell we are creating daily. One is enough people in power realize the problems and choose to begin to heal the divide, or hell comes to a cataclysmic point where total hatred spills over and life ceases to exist as a result. Either is a reboot. One, we survive and heal, the other, well…

With all the news and angst regarding how men treat (or mistreat) women has brought me to think about what the definition of a true Man is.  There can be and probably are multiple definitions depending on who you talk to and who their male role models were in their lives.

I was brought up with both the positive male role model and the negative. My positive role models were men that held a high level of honor. I learned to hold the door for women, to stand when a woman either left or returned to a table at a restaurant. I also learned that women are actually correct most of the time (just ask my wife). I learned that there is no moment where a man should ever disrespect or harm a woman for any reason what so ever!

I did not learn from them that the man is the boss of the house and that the woman had no say. Remember that saying “wait ‘til your father gets home!” Dads had their place with disciplining their sons and I do believe that some of that is lost on current generations. ( that is for another blog post) Parenting is a mutual effort of love that gives the children a stable and loving environment for which they can continue the love in their families in the future.

To me, a man treated others with respect, whether rich or poor, important or not. To me, a man held his relationship with his wife with honor and mutual respect. His children were understood and he actually looked them in the eye when he talked to them (meaning he knelt down to talk with them, or discipline them). A man stands up to anyone disrespecting another person or his family. A man actually asks for directions.

I will not speak about the negative role models, they have been on display in recent days and I am glad to have experienced their horrid behavior because I learned right from wrong. Even though I had ventured away from the good teachings I had learned, I tried and continue to try to live by that honor I learned so very long ago. I am sad for what I see the current man has become. At least the men I meet in public, in my work with families. One day I was at Trader Joe’s and a dad and his son were shopping. Mom was in another part of the store with her daughter. The man’s son asked if he could buy a candy bar. Dad turned toward his son and knelt down. He smiled and asked, “we can save this for after dinner?” His son smiled and said sure.

Dad and son met up with mom and daughter and the son showed his sister the candy bar. They both giggled with delight. Dad put his hand on the small of his wife’s back and kissed her on the cheek. She took his hand and together they continued shopping. This was a delightful moment to witness. Also, this was a very rare moment today. Love, honor, and respect aren’t difficult; all it takes is understanding and desire outside oneself. Repeat–Outside oneself.

The forecast called for rain. Looking at the weather app on my phone, I see three hurricane patterns traveling across the Atlantic toward the US. There is no rain at the moment. It is 9pm and Masterchef UK is on the TV. I can begin to feel the subtle pressure in the back of my head. It’s like someone is pushing ever so slightly on it.

Migraines for me usually come in the small hours of the morning before I awake. 4am seems to be the time I wake up to the feeling like I was hit with an 18-pound sledgehammer between my eyes. Nausea washes over me as I fall out of bed (literally) and stumble to the kitchen to make an espresso, then another.

The effect of a migraine is in a way, interesting. It is not a constant pain. It, for me, is like the ocean’s waves. They crash on the shore of my consciousness with every fifth wave being a big one. Some of these fifth waves double me over in pain.  It is difficult to endure even the smallest sound or the cloud-covered light of day. It is impossible to think clearly.

Today darkness is my friend; silence seems to be an impossibility with even the smallest sound magnified inside my head.  The weekend calls for partly sunny skies. It is Monday and that seems so very far away.

I burn with the flames of a joyous bonfire as drunken shadows wave and pump into the night sky. Nothing is possible and therefore, nothing is impossible. Run with your personal devil and never lose sight of him (or her?). Dance with the abandon of an angel on the highest cloud in the sky to the point of falling off to oblivion. Devastate me with your kindness. Frighten me with your tenderness of kisses. I fall and never land. I hunt and never kill. Stop my breath with your inner beauty, as I witness it in the eyes of the children whose hearts you touch. I am yours forever on.                                           DAM

Suicide happens in an instant.

It comes at a moment’s thought.

It is not the darkest day,

Nor is it even at the deepest of despair,

The black clouds had lingered beyond the moments of silver linings

In the recesses of memory and thought

Suicide was always an option

It was a place visited

Often at times.

The bright lights of happiness and even fame

Could not blow away the storm clouds

looming in the distance.

One day

Much like any other day to you and me

It starts with a feeling

Moves into a (fleeting) thought

And it ends with an action

Alone

Solitary

Beyond the words and ears of love

No explanation

No real reason

Like ending a really good book

And making the decision to turn the last page.

Some understand, some do not.

You will be dearly missed good sir.

“I’m proud of you son.” Some of us never had that said to us as boys.   So much of growing and learning is done with the mentorship and love of the fathers in our lives. Many of the young men and boys that end up in gangs and behind bars are because they did not have that father role model to guide them. Some have had fathers, but not role models. It is a unique quality for a man to be instinctually able to guide and model healthy behavior and insights for the young boys and men they have in their charge.

Often many fathers fall short in critical areas of parenting and mentoring. It is deceptively simple. It is in the conversations that creates the bond and helps guide. It is the ability to look a person in the eye and be honest and caring in our actions, not only with our children, but with everyone we meet. It is there that our sons and daughters learn how to effectively interact with others. It is how they learn to love themselves and have pride in their actions. This is how we turn boys into men that in turn create future positive role models.

Today is my mom’s birthday. We lost her several years ago to pancreatic cancer. Today, more than any other I remember her and her influence on my life. Mom’s influence and wisdom was a quiet type. She seemed to understand human nature and cared for others without prejudice. I remember a day when she was living in a senior housing complex. She had her own little bungalow decorated with pictures of her children and grandchildren and memories of her life.

One day she heard a knock at the door. Mom opened the door to find a rather large African-American man standing there. His name was Stacy. He asked her if he could use her phone, he was having problems with his water in his apartment and needed to call the maintenance department. Without hesitation, mom opened the door and let Stacy in.

She called the maintenance department for him and offered him a cup of tea. They talked for a few minutes then he returned to his apartment. Stacy always made it a point of saying hello after that when he saw her outside. Several weeks later mom heard a knock at her door. This time it wasn’t Stacy. A woman carrying a clipboard told mom that she was collecting signatures to remove Stacy from the complex. See, Stacy has Schizophrenia and he is the gentlest person you could ever meet, as my mom found out.

The woman was adamant that he was a danger and needed to be removed. Mom looked at the woman who was wearing dark sunglasses and held the clipboard like it was going to fly away. “do you need signatures from all the residents to have this happen?” my mom asked. “Yes, we do.” The woman said with a smile. Without another word, mom stepped back into her apartment and closed the door.

Today I was assigned a patient at a nursing facility to assess. I arrived and after speaking with the Social Worker, I went to meet the patient. He was a small man, very skinny. He was unable to speak to me because he suffers primarily from Schizophrenia, like Stacy. He also is dying from Cancer. When I walked into his room he looked up at me and smiled a huge smile and waved to me. At that point, my day got incredibly heavy. All the memories of the day my mom passed away came flooding back.

I stood in the hallway of the nursing facility for a few moments then walked into a conference room to speak with the Social Worker. I told her of my mom and that today was her birthday. I spoke of the similarities I was experiencing and of witnessing how even in the face of certain death, this man was smiling. I do think he understands what is happening in his body. I do believe he may be feeling a peace and understanding despite his psychiatric issues.

I pray he goes peacefully and possibly, quite possibly will meet my mom on the other side. I think they would make great friends.

There are some mornings that I awake feeling horrible it is like I never slept. I sit up in bed for a few minutes and listen to my body. I sit up in bed and listen to the random thoughts that pass through my awakening process. Usually, dreams I had before awakening are still playing and I process them for importance and relevance in my life. Often these dreams are loose relations to what is happening in my life at the moment. Sometimes they are just variations to movies I have watched the night before.

This morning I opened the shade to a bright sunny day. I sat there for a moment and one thought flooded my mind. If I think my life is bad at this point, it can always get worse. If I think my life is good at this point, it can always get better. I sat with this for a few more minutes before starting my morning routine (dare say ritual?). It continued to play around in my head, this thought. Life is indeed about the frame of mind. Life is indeed about how we perceive the events in our lives.

If I choose to perceive every moment with a negative shade, then everything will not have the luster of what it may have if I thought of it with a positive light. Think about it. No matter what even comes through our lives, it is how we perceive and then choose to act or react to the event that brings it into a positive light or a negative shade. Some events are more profound than others. But if I choose to look at it with a perspective of learning and curiosity, then I always learn something.

I learn something about myself and about life in general. How I choose to look at life and act creates my reality. My future can either be positive or negative. It is ENTIRELY UP TO ME. It is completely in my power what level of happiness and sorrow I choose to experience. Sorrow with never disappear. But as it is stated in the Tao te Ching; know its purpose and how long it needs to remain in your life. Understanding people and their intentions and actions, I have learned that anything I have witnessed or experienced negatively from others has very little to do with me and more to do with how they have chosen to react (rather than act) to the events in their life.

Today I say live with intention, live with understanding, and most important, live with curiosity for life and what presents you every day. There is more that happens in one day that you miss (or dismiss) that could make a change in your understanding of life and yourself. I was told so many decades ago that there is one moment in each and every day where you can change the world. This statement had taken me years to understand. In its profound simplicity, it is so very true.

If you simply smile at one person (a person you walk past in a store, or the person handing you your morning coffee) that very event can carry from person to person. It is like the concept of paying it forward. Think of how that simple action can change the morning of the person, and how that can change their actions for others, so on and so forth. This is one of the most amazing human concepts I have learned. It is so very simple and it is free! So, tomorrow morning when you awaken, I ask that you awaken with curiosity and understanding in your heart. It can change your day and ultimately, your life.

Marcus listened to the words his daughter spoke. He asked her to repeat them. With tears in her eyes, she told him again that his best friend had committed suicide the night before. His friend Marshall had been isolating for the past few weeks. Each time Marcus went to visit, Marshall would not let him is. He said he was sick the first few times, and then he would not even answer the door. Marcus sat the feeling cold and empty. He hugged his daughter as she cried.

Days later Marcus still felt his loss and sadness for his friend. Marcus knew he needed to leave his apartment, but didn’t have the energy to even get off his couch.  Old reruns of MASH played silently on his television. So much in his life had changed from his past days. He had happiness then. He felt he belonged. The past few months in his apartment was depressing. The job he had loved so much had become mundane. Or was it that he had lost the desire to interact and be part of what his life meant before? Marcus knew the answer, but could not act on it.

You need to get outside and talk with friends, get out of this funk you’re in, he told himself. But he didn’t move. The TV was still casting its silent images and afternoon light tried to fill the room from the only small window in his living room. Marcus felt the heaviness pushing him deeper into his deepening pit of depression. It was then that he began to understand what his friend had gone through before taking his life. A cold shiver ran down his spine. Marcus began to cry.

__excerpt from NOVEL (2018)