Lonely Ranch

Thunder crashes and I'm jolted out of my sleep and straight onto my feet. My heart is racing and I can feel the beat pounding inside of my ears. I wipe my sweaty palms onto the old t-shirt I threw on to sleep in and release the breath that I didn't realize that I was holding. The cold floor reminds me that I'm no longer in bed and I look around trying to remember exactly where I am. My racing heart slows and turns into a sinking sensation in my stomach when I realize I'm back home. The place that I grew up, but have spent the last couple of years running from. The place that used to fill my heart with so much joy, but now just leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. How could the very place that brought me so much love make me feel so full of hate now? Lightning flashes and brings me out of my thoughts and I look at the clock to see what time it is, 3 o'clock. They call this the witching hour and the irony isn't lost on me considering the amount of times that I've questioned God since leaving this place. I shuffle my way to the bathroom and open the medicine cabinet looking for the only thing that has helped keep what sanity I have left strung together. After successfully finding it I turn on the faucet and get a drink to help swallow it down. And splash a little cool water on my face. I shut the tap off and look up into the mirror and the reflection is like a ghost of what I once was. My once beautiful chocolate brown hair is now a mousy color and breaking at the ends from all the times I've neglected it and just thrown it into a haphazard do to get it out of the way. My eyes look sunken from the dark purple bags standing so proudly beneath them. I sigh and look away not willing to face the disappointment that I feel like I am. I make my way back into the bedroom and decide to look out the window at the fields that I once happily chased butterflies in and raced across to help feed the animals in. Those chores never felt like chores to me because I really enjoyed what I was doing. They say do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life. Funny how life has it's way of coming back to you full circle because this was now the last place that I wanted to be. I could still hear my Dad's voice in the back of my mind though "Winners never quit and quitters never win." A quote he liked to repeat from Vince Lombardi, he was a football fanatic. Kicking off his boots and grabbing a cold drink before jumping into the recliner was his favorite way to relax after a long day here on the ranch. Although I never understood how yelling at refs over bad calls was considered relaxing. My dad deserved to do what he wanted though after he built this place from blood, sweat, and tears.( Maybe a few obscenities too.) The only thing that could make him happier than the ranch or football was my mom and God did he love that woman. He would have walked the ends of the earth to make her happy even though she would have never asked him to. They tell you that you have big shoes to fill, but don't ever emphasize just how big they are and my parents definitely made them huge. I swallow the lump that formed in my throat as a few tears fall down my face. They gave up everything so I could be here including their lives. "What are you doing Patricia Ann?" I whisper to myself. Wondering how I feel like I could ever live up to the legacy that my parents left behind. I take a deep breath and rub my fingers across my temples where a headache is trying to take place. After massaging my head for a few minutes I decide to walk to the living room and light a fire in the fireplace. When I get it settled I grab a throw from the back of the couch and sink into it focusing on the flames instead of my thoughts and I'm able to finally drift back off to sleep.