It Was In Death That a Dance Would Be Born

     Meet David Michael. He is a newborn that fills a void in a young mother’s heart; a small child that lights up a room with his brilliant smile and eyes. He is bright and well liked by his peers, teachers and those who are fortunate to meet him. He is kind, loving, generous, patient, humorous and honest.

     He grows into a young man and continues to carry those attributes and wonderful qualities we all wish to possess. But he has a dark secret. He hides it well. Until one day, it can no longer be tucked away. He fights the fight and tries to push his attackers away, but they are too great a force for this gentle soul to battle alone.

     My son was diagnosed with schizzo-effective of the bipolar type and at age twenty he took his life. As I write these words upon this page, I am still in disbelief.

     David had three episodes also known as psychotic breaks to the medical team before completing his suicide. The first would come after the tragic “Columbine” tragedy. The second, the “Y-2K” hype and his final would be “9/11.”

     It is clear in my mind all three incidents. They are as fresh now as they were then. The emotions I felt then continue to run rampant in my mind.  I recall bowing my head in prayer. I prayed for the victims, the families, and as hard as it is to admit, I prayed for those who inflicted such harm to the innocent.
     …And I prayed in thankfulness that my children were safe and alive. There would be one more prayer I would pray before receiving that unexpected call on November 3, 2001. I prayed to God that He would heal my son. I prayed that I would except His plan and do whatever I could and that I trusted Him and needed Him to light the way.

     In my time of prayer, I thought God would heal my son here on earth. I thought my child would become a minister and serve the Lord by being a voice to help those suffering within the silent depths of their souls. Yes, that is what I thought. But that is not the answer I received.

    With each anniversary of his passing the wound will never close. The gap will remain, but my faith has been my strength.  But my faith alone would not be enough to sustain me. It will be “People” His choice of people to place into my life to light the way I am to travel.  And though you may not see it clearly now, I believe one day you will capture the whole picture. I’m sure if you look close enough you will see yourself amidst the work of art. It’s called life. Not mine, not yours, but ours.

     What we do with it is ours to do what we like. For the Lord has given us free will. I’ve walked taking baby steps forward and many grandiose behind. I’m still taking those steps backwards and forward, I’m breathing in and out, and have made it through one more day.

     My quest now is to be the voice unheard. Not mine, not yours, but ours.

Coming Soon!