Let me tell you about that amazing and heart-warming moment between my baba and I when he, well intentioned, took my crushed heart and hammered it like he was on some competitive reality show titled Who Will Build The Out-House FIRST! (Correct punctuation there.)
A few years back and like a ridiculous little monkey who couldn’t stop crying, I was seated at his side, sobbing something fierce. I had allowed my chest to be ripped open, left my insides as a playground to someone I trusted and loved, and they — not being cautious — had left their fingerprints on every part of me but nothing more.
My baba was looking at his only daughter, broken winged, and did the only thing he knew how — triage by stating the following (seared into my mind):
AND FOREVER OVER!”
He was also making chopping motions both horizontal and vertical with his hands. In hindsight, I am surprised he didn’t take flight with his angry waving. I understood instantly that this was maybe what a lion looks like when protecting their cub — and as all sane parents, my father is some kind of force with which to be reckoned when it comes to me.
I sat, mouth hung open, saucer-eyed, with tears frozen, calculating were I to lunge at him what are my chances of success? He is a large man, and so I decided better to chill my ass, and instead asked:
“When did you become kajill-ingular?”
He laughed, and I did too.
His response has become known as “The Monzer Hammer” amidst my girlfriends. When one of us needs a solid ass kicking, the other pulls out The Monzer Hammer, runs to Google Translate, and gives’er.
Tonight, I pulled out The Monzer Hammer, wrapped it in velvet, and did a little work of my own. Needed not for me, but for another so that he — at his request — may now move forward.
We humans are an amazing, complicated, heart-breaking, and beautiful creation. Our ability to be vulnerable is as devastating when reflected in hope as it is in endings.