Wali Muhammad photo by Lara Herscovitch; Princess Tiana photo contributed
On day -15,165, I was welcomed into the world at the end of the week, in the middle of the year of the mid-’70s to two loving parents, giants in stature and heart, in the city of White Plains, New York. What I did not know then and I barely understand now, is how much of an impact they would have on my life. But this is not about my life from then to day one. It is about my life from day one to day 730.
Day One, as you will soon find out, was the toughest day of my young life. Tougher than what I did in college: competing in a track meet and indoor pentathlon (which includes the 55m High Hurdles, the Long Jump, the High Jump, the Triple Jump, the Shot Put, the 1000-meter run, and the 4×400 meter relay). Doing all of this is a feat alone but doing this while fasting during the month of Ramadan is a challenge. Meaning, no food nor drink in-between events. Meaning a level of cotton-mouth that feels as if your mouth is full of warm sand, where every swallow yields thick droplets of saliva in your throat that barely coats the esophagus, leaving the tongue heavy with bubbles and dry white patches at the corners of your lips. Tougher than being told you are not good enough after doing your best and giving your all. Tougher than having to give up on something/someone you love because of something you need to do. Tougher than losing it all and realizing that even the bottom has a lower bottom.
It would seem to make the most sense to document the 730 days in chronological order; but what makes the most sense is not always the best way. This will be highlights and lowlights of my 730-day journey from Day One until now. You are welcome to join me, as I will bring you along to share my travels, within and without, discovering limits and hidden, long felt, lost emotion. We will travel to the sea of tears, the mountains of love, the dark valleys of despair as well as the islands of time recovered.
This is the journal of a major life shift that triggered ripples extending from my physical, extremely private self, out to my public-facing self.
So where do we start?
Day 34, Superbowl Sunday 2017.
Day 34, Super Bowl 51: Patriots 34 Falcons 28
In December 2014 (around day -752), during our visit to Disney World with the children for the first time, my wife, Tahnee, mentioned that she would love to go on a Disney cruise with our entire family. We spoke of how cool it would be to have all our siblings, our parents and children together on the big ship. At that point, our children were 8 and 6 years old, and there were 10 cousins ranging from age 23 to almost 1 year old.
Having been on a cruise pre-kids, we decided it would be a great way to explore the world outside of the United States while being able to enjoy the all-inclusive benefits and spend time together as a family and as a couple. We strategized the best launch location. We recycled through the memories we would create, speculated who would say yes and mapped out a plan of action to convince those who would say no. We figured given two years to plan, everyone would have ample time to get all needed finances together and meet in Florida.
Earlier that year, my younger brother Kareem and his family moved to Texas and my younger sister Ayesha moved to Arizona with her mate, so their trajectory may be slightly steeper, but hey they have two years… right?
Tahnee began putting a buzz in the ears of the family. The vision of the trip included my two parents, five siblings, three spouses (possibly four – that’s another story) and their eight children, as well as Tahnee’s two parents, two siblings, two spouses, and two children. She created a chain of agreement and the excitement built for weeks. As time passed, though, the hype faded, communications about the trip waned and I completely forgot about the plans made on vacation brain. I remember being high on the thought that things always work for the better, and that if I am happy now, I will be happy then.
However, life tends to bury dreams if you do not force them to the top.
My mother was reluctant to commit; she was concerned about my grandmother being able to handle the trip at the age of 104, and my father’s dialysis needs, following kidney failure.
I began to map out a strategy. First, for my father, I found a program called Dialysis at Sea. Second, I already knew my grandmother can and would do anything she wanted. She was hard of hearing and blinder than many, but still vibrant and engaging, nonetheless.
(My grandmother did eventually pass, but not until day 436.)
Over that two-year span, life happened. Finances were not squirreled away, and my half of the family did not make it. We did have Day One occur, but the plans were lost way before then.
So back to Day 34. Here I am, with Smokey Robinson’s “Tracks of My Tears” streaming continuously in my head. “So, take a good look at my face, you know my smile looks out of place…” The smile pinned to my face to save my children from having to ask if daddy is okay. The smile painted on my face to avoid the questions from the in-laws of “Wali, are you okay?” The smile practiced every day in the mirror after brushing my teeth, to make me remember how to feel… okay. “If you look closer, it’s easy to trace.” The smile only genuine enough to fool those who couldn’t get close enough to see “the tracks of my tears.”
On Day 34 I am working to remain in vacation-dad mode. Keeping track of the bags and the kids while my wife takes care of our boarding and coordinates with the family. I didn’t want to be here; I wanted to be holed up in a dark room, writing on the back of my eyelids with the ink of my tears, the words I had taken for granted up until 34 days ago. I didn’t want to be here, looking at Mickey Mouse and this crowd of happy faces, unruly children and overly stressed parents. I didn’t want to be here, with the anxiety of having days of nothing to do but try to relax when it forces me to think and remember.
I want to be at work, distracted from what is inside. I want – need – to be hidden in conversations about someone else, fixing their problem, listening to their issue. I can help them; I can offer an ear and a word of comfort and they will feel better, and I will feel better, because I won’t have to feel the way I feel now.
It has been 34 days, and I stand here with a scream in my eyes, as I look at the dizzying array of bright colors and matching t-shirts, long lines and even longer waits. “Okay we can board now,” I hear in a familiar voice, and I realize I was holding my breath. I slowly exhale, turn and smile at my wife.
Our bags have been checked and will make their way to our room. We are encouraged to explore the ship as the crew prepares our departure. As I step onto the upper deck, the strength of the Florida sun soothes me. The sight of the horizon relaxes me ever so slightly. The excitement on my family’s faces makes me proud to be here, despite my desire to be in darkness. They are my light.
The first order of business after setting sail was the safety announcements: location of safety rafts and life preservers. After the safety announcements, we are free to indulge in the many amenities offered. As the excitement of my family increases, I feel my desire to socialize wane as if being dimmed by the setting sun. Soon it will be dark, and with external darkness comes the remembrances of pain seeping back, bringing internal darkness with them.
This feeling is jarred loose with the announcement that we need to prepare for dinner.
Each night we were to have dinner at one of the character restaurants. Tonight the featured host is Princess Tiana, from The Princess and the Frog.
Now, I believe every adult male regardless of age and sexual preference has a secret (and innocent) crush on at least one Disney Princess. My top three are Pocahontas (even though I strongly disliked the film), Jasmin and Tiana… and guess who was about to get a selfie with Tiana. THIS Guy!
We are seated for dinner, and I position myself as I usually do, where I can see the entire restaurant. I am keeping watch around the room, as I usually do, when I notice Princess Tiana enter. She snakes her way through the crowded restaurant, stopping to smile, take pictures and greet the guests. She sings a few songs with the band while we eat (with my eyes wide the whole time), then is back into the crowd, weaving through the tables.
She reaches our section just after we place our dessert order of beignets. I usher my daughter out of her chair, tap Tiana on the shoulder, request a picture with just my daughter, of course – then also one with me. In that moment, it is a good Disney Princess kind of day!
As dinner ends, the ship’s bedtime chime rings, and I notice the children’s inability to control their emotions. The excitement of being on the ship was still apparent in their tired eyes. But the length of the day was roaring. We had all been awake way too long and needed time to wind down in preparation for back-to-back long days of play, food, play, food, activities, food and fun!
We say our good nights, after making plans for breakfast. I walk my family to our cabin to get the kids ready for bed. My wife too, is starting to crash; me on the other hand, I need to stay awake. I don’t want to fall into the depressive deep of my thoughts just yet. That’s when I remember it is Super Bowl Sunday. I know my wife won’t let me watch it in our cabin, so I tell her I am going to seek the game. My son decides he too wants to venture out. Together we find a group of football watchers and fall into the rhythm of cheers and jeers for the next 4 hours.
During the game, I had flashback memories of watching and discussing football with my dad. Though he was a New York Giants fan, he always rooted for the Black Quarterback, no matter who was playing. As he watched, he often wore one of his black quarterback jerseys.
Now, as I sit here on Day 34 with my ten-year-old son, who is trying to focus on the game and our conversation, but really wants to run and play with the other kids, I feel my eyes begin to well, and my swallowing becomes labored. Then the pull of a smile comes to my face as the Falcons score another touchdown! The New England Patriots would end up Champions again, but that doesn’t matter. The game gave me a chance to relive a juxtaposition moment with my son, that I had with my father.
Excerpt from Introduction and Chapter One of book-in-the-works 730 Days.
Wali is a father, husband, son, entrepreneur, writer/poet, realtor, coach, and L3 (life-long learner) who lives in East Haven with his family.
To contact Wali directly: (203) 936-9254 or WSMuhammad@aol.com