What Could Happen Next

It was only a doll.

Sometimes when I work… I move things to the side…

I do this intentionally.
Because…
I have this ritual. I usually go through.
It often starts before I sit down… and start my creative work.
Especiall before I start writing.

It’s just how my mind works.

And it took me. Many.
Many years… to figure this out.
I have an office where I usually do this upstairs.

But in the summertime
it can get hot.

So… sometimes I work downstairs.
With my headset
or some headphones on.
While the kids are kids.
And our family is
doing family things.

But I have learned
to beam all of my energy
into one thing for
a set amount of time.
And it works… at least for me.

So before I start…
one of these writing blocks.

I make sure.
I actually have
the time for it.
A set amount of time,
where nobody needs me
to do anything else.

And also…
the room does not
have to be quiet. Clearly.
Because, I have three children.

And before
I begin all of this…
I start moving things.

It’s not like putting things away…
or organizing anything.

I just start moving them.
Somewhere else.
So I do not have to deal
with them at that exact moment.

I remember picking it up…
and lightly tossing it
farther onto the couch.

Nothing happened.

The truth is…
That doll was just sitting there.
Being a fake baby doll for my children
to practice taking care of,
as they witness us taking care
of their youngest brother.

That doll could not
be hurt by anything.

But for a few seconds…
my mind replaced the doll
with our actual baby.

At least… that was not what
I thought I was doing.

My wife said something about control.

About me wanting everyone
to bend around the way
I needed things to be so I could work.

She said I needed to focus more.

And that got under my skin
much more than I expected.

I was tired. I was trying to work.

And honestly…
I did not want to talk to anyone.

I wanted to explain what I meant…
and return to what I was doing.

I am not writing this
to prove my wife wrong.

If she ever decides to hop on here
and read this… she would understand.

She knows me.
She knows my past.

And maybe…
she has seen something in me
that I cannot always see
while I am inside of it.

When I work…
I purposely try to notice less.

I know that sounds strange
because I spend so much of the day
noticing everything around my children.

What are they doing?

Has the timer been on since
they got on the Nintendo Switch?

Are they full? Are they safe?

What they might knock over.

Or place… inside their mouths.

What might happen next…
because they are still too young to always understand…

Where one small thing might lead.

Then I finally sit down to work…
And somehow I am supposed to stop noticing long enough to follow one thought all the way through.

Sometimes I cannot.

Perhaps… that is why
I move things to the side.

I clear a little space in front of me
and try to make the rest of the room
disappear for a while.

And… maybe my wife sees
how overwhelmed
I become before I do.

Maybe…
when I am trying to
make enough room
inside my own head.

I do not always notice
that everyone else might
feel like they need to adjust
around me too.

And… my wife
might be right about that.

But the word… still bothered me.

If she had told me…
I was worrying too much
about something that did not happen.

I probably would have disagreed.

I would have explained… why
my mind went there.

And… then I would
have moved on.

But when that word is used…

I know I can be wrong.
And… I know I can take
a small possibility farther
than the moment needed me to.

This was not only about
being disagreed with.

In my head…
I was worried about our baby.

That was all
I thought I was doing.
But… my wife was standing
in the same room as me.

Listening to me say it.
Watching me move things around.

And… I think that was the part
I did not want to hear.

When I was younger…
my stepfather could
become angry when something
was not where he wanted it.

Whatever we moved…
had to be put back
in the exact same spot
when we were finished using it.

If Mom did not listen to him.
We all suffered.
And no one…
Was allowed to sleep that night.

Small. Small things.
Could Become.
Big. Big things.

Most children would
probably be told
to turn the light off.

Or… put something back.
And… that would be it.

But with him…
BANG. BANG. BANG.
He would BANG.

Mom had work.
My brother
and I had school.

After enough nights like that…
a light switch is no longer
only a light switch.

If I saw one left on…

I was already thinking about
what he might do
when he found it.

And after a while
that young boy started
doing this with everything.

Always looking around.
Trying to find something…
before it found him first.

What could happen next?

Some days I am still waiting…
for the night that might come next.

Even when no one…
is banging on the door anymore.

As I look back now…
with three sons of my own.

And part of being their father…
is noticing those things
before they do.

Sometimes…
the danger is real.

Dad me leaves the stairway
lights on all night.
In case one of my sons
ever needs light to find me.

But that day…
When I moved that iPad
away from the fake baby doll.
Our baby was… somewhere else.

I can say that…
This is what parents do.
And some part of it probably is.

But I must admit. I don’t think
all of it came from becoming a father.

Some of it came from
the young boy who learned.
Learned that something harmless…
could become suffering
without warning.

The invisible boy
who tried to see everything.

Because…
if he saw it coming early enough.

He might be able to change
what happens next.

Because if dad me,
reacts to every possibility
as if it is already happening.

My children will still feel it.

They cannot see all the dangers
playing out inside my head.

I used to think…
my stepfather and I were
on opposite ends
of what it meant
to be a father.

Because… it happened to him.

My sons will not be punished
for what happened to me.

Nothing happened to the iPad.

I had moved it to a different spot.

Away from the fake baby doll
and the place where
our actual baby
could sometimes lie.

The entire moment lasted
only a few seconds.

I had moved the iPad
because I wanted
enough room to focus on
the work in front of me.

I did not want to deal
with everything else around me
at that exact moment.

And somehow…

I noticed something
I had also been moving to the side.

I do not want to lose
the part of myself
that looks ahead.

I am a father.

Sometimes… looking ahead is how…
I keep my children safe.

I just want to become better
at recognizing…
when everyone is already safe.

When the room is only the room…
we are standing in.

When the doll…
is only a doll.

And… when one of my sons
forgets to turn off a light…

I can ask him to turn it off.

Or…… Maybe I can just turn it off myself.

And that can be the end of it.

Nothing else has to happen next.