fish out of water

Sometimes, life sucks.  The problem we have with this is that we have been taught to search and reach for happiness.  It isn't always so easy.  But some of us, those lucky bastards, have friends that stick by their side, ready to pick us up and dust us off until we fall again.

When I was young, maybe ten or twelve, I convinced my mom that I deserved a fish as a pet.  I wanted a fancy tank and got one for my birthday and I was set.  In fact, I may have already even gotten the fish at the fair or something, wasting $20 on the ring toss in hopes to force my mom into getting me the tank.  However it may have happened, I got my fish.  A few weeks went by, and I decided that my fish was lonely.  I somehow convinced my mother to take me to the pet shop where we purchased my goldfish a companion, a pretty little silvery white guy...or girl.  It was an exciting time for me, learning new responsibilities.  And then one day, my first fish died.  I was pretty distraught, as I had never really known anything to die before.  And what had the warning signs been, I wondered.  Why didn't I know that this was going to happen?  After popping my breakfast pastry in the toaster, I grabbed the fish food, turned and screamed.  There was Goldy, (not sure what I called either fish back then... guess that isn't such an important detail.) floating lifelessly, upside down.  I screamed again once I learned of my parents solution to disspose of my prized pet- the toilet. 

Months went by and my 2nd fish, let's call him Herbert, remained alive.  Jetting around his small but beautifully decorated tank, he was the star.  Until one morning, I came downstairs and found Herbert sitting on the counter next to his tank.  He had jumped out of the damn thing, since we left the top off at night, I don't know why, I think that's what you are supposed to do, or maybe the tank didnt have a top (?).  Anyway, there he was, painfully sucking in, a poor little fish, all alone, out of the water.  I immediately scooped him up and returned him to his home, and with tears in my eyes watched him sort of float gently down, down, down, SWIM! He was okay!  A few days later, one entire side of Herbert was black and blue from a giant bruise after landing on the countertop.  I felt so bad for Herbert, and still do now, looking back and realizing how many times I have felt exactly as he must have.  Suffocating in a suddenly unfamiliar environment, thinking you are taking a step in the right direction but really trapping yourself on the outside.  But then I am reassured, because like Herbert, I too have a friend who is always willing to pick me up and guide me home. 

Poor Herbert must have had a death wish, because he jumped out of that tank left and right.  Nearly every morning, I would wake up in a panic and jump out of bed, run down the stairs and scoop the drying (dying) fish up and send him on his way.  He would continue to swim sideways for most of each morning and by nighttime, would be back to normal.  So, now, I wonder....  Are we really THAT similar to a fish?!  Well, in this case, yes.  We, like Herbert, know where our safety zone is.  And we, again, like Herbert, continue to push the envelope, yearning for bigger and better things.  And sometimes, we take a leap, and end up without air.  We look up and realize we are screwed, we can't do this alone.  No hands or feet to climb the wall, no door to open and easily climb through.  So we rely on family and friends to keep a close eye on us, frantically running down the stairs to put us back into our tanks so we can breathe.  We may not be okay right away, and we may go back and do it all over again in the morning, but it is their job, and ultimately our job, as friends to help those in need. 

Well, Herbert didn't live forever.  One morning, I maybe got up too late, or he had jumped out earlier in the night than usual, and there he was.  Floating in the tank after I dropped him back in.  Bruised and tired, he had called it quits.  My mom told me to flush him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.  After she left for work that day, I began to create a coffin for my precious Herbert.  It was gorgeous, lace and tissue paper and glue stick.  I found a shady spot out front, far enough out of the way that I hoped my mom wouldn't notice.  I dug a nice hole and buried the box.  I probably even cried.  My mom never found out that I buried the goldfish, rather than flushing it.  No other words were ever spoken about it. 

I see now how much Herbert helped me realize what the importnant things in life are.  If we surround ourselves with people we love, then we will always be shrouded in love.  When we fall down, or take off on some frightful misadventure, we are lucky to have these people around who love us.  They are there to scoop us up, and drop us back in the tank, and rush down the stairs every morning to make sure you have made it through another night...