Restoration: The Beginning. The Breakdown.

It doesn't take much. Just the right sounds, the right smell, the right vision that will act as a trigger to bring back the past and place it in the present. I've seen it in movies quite often. The camera focuses in on a characters face, a close of of his eyes and then pans towards what that character has seen and from there we teleport back into the characters history. A scene unfolds as a smeared thought, whether it be good or bad. Something triggered a memory that might have been buried. 

I joyfully admit that Winnie the Pooh was in the movie rotation of my childhood. I vividly remember specific scenes that involved the Pooh Crew. I would hope every mom would introduce the Hundred Acre Wood to their child. It's a magical place and thats okay. 

My mom was always Piglet. She worried, she loved. I was most definitely Tigger, I had the energy of most little boys. Bouncing around, into and off of things. It was great. My little brother was Pooh, he was a pot bellied little baby bear. And I remember that my dad was Eeyore at this time of my life. At least I recall that was what my mom would tell me. You see, my dad unfortunately wasn't around all that much before he gave his life to the Lord (which was sometime between my age of 3 to 4). Memories of him and my mom arguing have been slowly resurfacing. I remember my mom telling me that Dad was being a little like Eeyore. Specifically I could hear her remind me that Piglet and Tigger and Pooh and everyone else (even Christopher Robin) still loved Eeyore. 

This made so much sense to me at the time and I believe helped me cope with feelings I had but couldn't describe as a child. I would get frustrated with Eeyore, I felt bad every time his stick house collapsed, I wanted him to be included in all the adventures the other stuffed animals had. I wanted him to be joyful and purposeful. I didn't want him to be sad and complain. I loved Eeyore and wanted to give him a hug. I had told my mom that I never wanted to be like Eeyore. I didn't want to be sad like my dad was. 

"You're kind of like Eeyore." The phrase hit me harder and more significantly than the person who said it would have ever imagined. It was supposed to be something cute. I didn't know why at first, but I tried hard not let tears break through. I kind of felt sick and wanted to throw up. I was glad that I had only a few more minutes left at work. On my way home I looked in my rear view mirror and finally saw the heavy chains around my neck that have been there for a long while. I was kind of confused as these memories from childhood started coming back to me. I felt as though I was in a movie seeing my past in black and white. I became more emotional then I have been in years all because of a seemingly harmless phrase, a description of my character, of what others around me saw. 

All of a sudden I could see so clearly how much of an impact I have on those around me. I had no idea that me wallowing in self pity about this wrong decision I had made or that situation I am in at work was leaking through to my everyday life. I was miserable. I have been miserable. All I could do at any moment was look at my stick house that had collapsed and find no hope in restoring it to the mansion that was really there all along. I had thought that the writer of my story had given up on me. I thought that He had left the rest of my book blank and placed a pen on the table right in front of me and waited for me to fail in writing the rest because the pen was dry, there was no ink left. 

I have been broken. I have been emotional. I have been digging deep into motives, reasons, purpose, love, family and God. 

I am so thankful for these triggers. I have never felt so much hope in my life.