Monday, August 3, 2020

My Phantom



image from navytimes.com


My Phantom

“Without dreams and phantoms, man cannot exist.”
--Olive Schreimer.

In 1967, I was stationed at NAS Miramar, north of
San Diego, between La Jolla and Mt. Palomar. 
Across 395 there was a Marine reserve base, home
to several tank battalions. In those days, we were 
surrounded by naked desert. Today, it’s all strip
malls and condos.

Our multiple fighter squadrons were filled with
McConnell-Douglas F-4 Phantoms--a two seat,
twin jet long range supersonic fighter-bomber.
They were souped-up hot rods. I loved to watch
them take off. They were so powerful that they
would barely get the nose up, when they would
roar straight up into the sky like a rocket.

My mother had died in late 1966. I had kept my
emotions in check while getting through boot
camp. I awoke early on my birthday, on June
14th. I felt like I had an anvil on my chest. I 
ached all over. I went to sick bay and was told
there was nothing wrong with me. In the late
afternoon I took a long walk out into the east
side of the base; hundreds of empty acres of
desert.

I carried a long stick for rattlesnakes. I rested
in a grassy clearing, Suddenly, my emotions
tumbled out of me like a typhoon. I wept and
screamed and cried out in despair and pain
for hours, then exhausted, I took a nap. I could
hear the jet engines revving up and exploding
off the ground. Later, as I hiked back for evening
chow call, I realized that Death rode my shoulders
all day, and as it lifted, I felt like I weighed nothing,
that jet wash would send me airborne.

My mother’s spirit
hovered over me for months;
until she ascended.


Glenn Buttkus

Haibun

Posted over at d'Verse Poets Pub

12 comments:

Kim M. Russell said...

That was some birthday, Glenn! I can understand about the emotions spilling out, my father died four days before my birthday nine years ago. But what a time and place to wrestle with your emotions. I love all the details about the place and the planes, and the way you build up to the birthday walk in the desert – I can’t imagine hundreds of empty acres of desert – we don’t have anything like that here. Your haiku made me tearful.

calmkate said...

expressing grief can do that, and you couldn't have let go in boot camp!

Ken Gierke said...

Wow! That definitely was cathartic. (And well expressed here)

sarah said...

What a powerful story. Your haiku is beautiful. I really felt for the young man that you were.

Jade Li said...

Sometimes the body will manifest what the heart is feeling, and feeling that weight on your chest was telling you to unburden yourself. You were blessed to have the space to let it out in a safe wasteland. My comfort goes out to that young man crying out his sorrow. Sounds like your mom was worried about you also and stuck around to make sure you were ok. <3

Compelling haibun, Glenn, and it feels like catharsis reading it.

Lucy said...

So haunting and vividly expressed, Glenn. I'm so sorry you went through that. My heart goes out to you greatly.

"My mother’s spirit
hovered over me for months;
until she ascended."

This brought me nearly to tears. My god. I am stunned at the evocations of this haiku, and with the context associated with it in your prose, this is so emotional and profound. What a powerful, powerful memory. Your grief manifested as physical pain and it must have been perhaps a relief to unburden your grief, mentally and emotionally.

Mish said...

Heartbreaking to read, but so eloquently rendered. I don't know if there is deeper pain than that and to carry it is disabling. Glad you found a place to begin the slow and steady release. A captivating haiku at the end.

Ron. said...

Haibun and a half IMHO, Glenn. Well done!

Gillena Cox said...

Oh man that was soul stirring

Much💖love

A Reading Writer said...

Felt every word written with so much emotions and eloquence. Thank you for sharing!

Pat R said...

Wow! That had to have been weighty. But it waited for it's moment then came schreeching through. I like the comparison with the jet engines. Well penned Glenn.

Pat

Kerfe said...

This feels so true. How to express the unexpressible? The way you tied it into your life and that particular day is beautiful.