A New Adventure

Where was I going and what was I doing? I was running from my problems and that’s how I ended up where I am (on a ship).

Sitting in a dining room chair, I was leaning forward with rounded shoulders. I’m thinking of the time my father was running from a serious problem (not one like mine). He was lost in Asia, with nothing to eat, when a wild hog charged him. With little energy, he ran. When the hog was about to get him, it stopped abruptly and dropped dead. The wild hog provided my father nourishment until he was found or found his way home (I don’t remember how the story ended).

I leaned back in my chair to catch a glimpse of a man’s shirt. My brain was nagging me to tell him I had a similar shirt.

I didn’t want to talk to him! My brain kept nagging. Finally, I said “I like your shirt. I have a similar shirt.”

Then my brain said, “Tell him about that one time you wore the shirt on the airplane.” Nope. Not doing it! Fine . . .

I told the man sitting next to me in the dining hall . . . the front of my shirt has the letters Y, H, W, H. I got it for free because I told a man it was spelled wrong. Anyway, the back of the shirt has a pair of lungs and say’s, “God’s breath, the breath of life.”

I’m not a t-shirt person, but it was so comfy that I once wore that shirt on a plane. Of course you know what happened. Yep, someone on the plane was unresponsive. There were four of us that responded. I was the last one up there because I was coming from the economy section.

I had just renewed my CPR certification and I didn’t want to do chest compressions. Why? Because I knew I was going to break at least three ribs. In addition, I started mentally rattling off all possible complications.

Then, the doctor ran up to first class. From his luggage, in the overhead bin, he grabbed his stethoscope.

Meanwhile, I’m having a full conversation with God (in my head). I can only imagine what this looked like to the 200 or so people sitting and watching. Why? Because I’m known for using my hands when I talk. And if I’m praying, I might be swaying.

Then, the nurse in front of me turns to talk. She wanted to go over the game plan for relieving the doctor and nurse anesthetist who were attending the unlively passenger.

As I raised my hands to mentally say, “Okay. Guess I gotta do this.” The doctor said, “She’s breathing.” Mentally, I said, “Thank you Jesus.” So, that’s the story of my t-shirt.

After a long talk, I found out the man sitting next to me in the dinning room was named David. He and his wife, Ashley, lived in the same small town my husband and I did. How ironic is that? Even more humorous, when David stood up, I read his t-shirt again and exclaimed . . .

Hog’s breath!

I thought that said, “God’s breath!” The shirt actually said, “Hog’s breath is better than no breath at all.” David was so excited showing me his shirt and telling me all about his favorite place in Key West, Florida, Hogs Breath Saloon!

Subconsciously, my brain must have switched the words. That’s probably why I was reminiscing on my father’s experience with a wild hog. In many ways, the hog’s tusk was a symbol of strength and courage and to endure when times are tough.

For some reason, I visualize my Father smiling. Not only did I get the message, I gave the message.

Reflecting on the evidence

1. What if anything from a relative do you hold onto? What does the object(s) mean to you? Explain.

References

None, just real life inspired events.