Weight

10/31/23

Baggage, as defined in the New Oxford American Dictionary, refers to past experiences or long-held ideas that are considered burdensome and obstacles.

We make decisions to help others, sometimes without realizing the impact and the damage that can result from taking on someone else’s burden. The weight can be so severe that the person asking for help may not be entirely honest about the extent of the load they are asking you to carry. The damage it may cause, the need for help to carry the load, the ill and heavy nature of the load that no one wants to help you carry, the weight that will change your life and directly affect your immediate family for years to come—all these factors can be overwhelming.

At first, you and your family are strong, driven by hope and positive change. The first year feels like a sudden weight dropped on your back, out of the blue, nearly breaking all your backs. Your young children are not used to the weight that has just been put on them. You had no clue, but it was too late now. You signed a contract, and the weight is now yours, your cross to bear.

The second year doesn’t seem any better, but hope and faith remain strong. Despite the burden of the weight, you still try to love it, no matter what it causes. You keep stepping forward, bent over, looking towards the sun, heaving, pulling, motivating, convincing yourself that there will be a day when the weight itself decides it wants to be lighter, that it will morph its physical form, that it will show some kind of emotion, some kind of spark of light, some remorse for the weight it dropped on others, damaging them for life. You think of the sacrifices, of all the friends and family who stayed their distance or even disowned you, because they did not understand the weight of this elephant, nor did they even want to take part in helping to carry it. The elephant that haunts many families, yet remains hidden or ignored, regardless of its size.

Friends and family disown you because they fail to comprehend the immense burden you carry and will express opinions even when they would never have taken it on. They deny the truth because they’ve become accustomed to ignoring the elephant in the room, mistaking it for a cute mouse. This is a common occurrence. People refuse to confront the truth, resorting to lies, fabricating their own truths, and finding every reason to hate you, even when they would never have stepped up to the plate. They judge every step you take, every effort you make, as if it were futile. No matter the evidence you present, you’ll be labeled as the liar. So, you and your family continue to carry this elephant. All of you realize that if it’s removed, it will wreak havoc. It could destroy homes, trample children. It’s a collective decision to carry the weight together as a family for the safety of others. It continues to grow, learning new tricks, but still won’t walk for itself. It knows it has legs and how to use them. Taunting the load bearers by laying on its back and kicking its feet with glee, it tricks all of you by jumping off for a moment. When you all think the weight is lifted and success is to be had, it jumps back on, suddenly. You’ve followed all the rules, listened to all the experts, gone above and beyond, but this elephant insists on jumping off and on all of your backs repeatedly. It does it with full force, and all of you are taking the blows. Bodies are giving out. Screaming fills the air as your wife, by your side, cries out, “Enough is enough! We can’t do this anymore!” Hands bleed, feet blister, backs give out, and everyone is fighting constantly. Kids behind you beg to take out the elephant’s leg. The pain, resentment, anger, discontent, animosity, and lack of hope grow. This is not what you wanted. This isn’t the life you envisioned for your children. Years of sacrificing for an elephant that wasn’t even yours to begin with have left irreversible damage that you didn’t cause. It was presented to you as a mouse, but you were unaware of the deal you were making with the devil—an elephant. They knew, and they lied. No matter how hard you tried to heal the ill, malnourished, and abused elephant, the damage was done. This is the hardest truth you’ll have to face: the lesson of “you can’t save them all.” But this one was so close to home. The voices of your family echoing in your head. You know they’re all about to step out from under this elephant, and you’ll be alone. You can’t blame them one bit. So, you’ve even considered carrying it alone. You’re screaming, bearing more weight as they start stepping out. The pain from the load as it shifts, and you start taking on more and more. The promise to the devil that you’d turn the weight of the elephant to the weight of a mouse with all your powers that be because they were too weak to carry it. You know there will be repercussions for not fulfilling the contract. You’ll be blamed, more lies will be told, but you’re going to lose your wife, your family is unraveling, they can’t bear any more weight, nor should they. Your back is now starting to crack. You know the weight is shifting so much, and all of them are about to drop the weight. It’s now or never. You must make the choice. No matter what anyone thinks, knows, or doesn’t know. It’s time. You choose your family. So, you decide and acknowledge your accountability, and that this is not your weight to carry. So, you play the devil’s game. You use your powers that be and let them know you weren’t able to transform the elephant to a mouse but to the weight of a pig. Then you make an elephant drop. Wipe your hands clean on your pants and walk away. Far, far away. Don’t look back. Hold your head high. Let them rejoice for what they don’t know. Never mind the fact that there will be no gratitude for the weight you and your loved ones have been carrying for years, the friends and family you lost along the way, and the lies that are brewing. Return what wasn’t yours to carry. Walk light into the light.

I am so grateful to those of you who chose to see the truth, our truth, that grabbed us by the hands and even jumped in to help carry the load, even if for a brief moment. If not for those few brief moments of knowing and helping hands, I wouldn’t have a family to speak of. You know who you are. Thank you from the depths of everything that I am.