I think what I’m really doing is trying not to think about that client of ours who died at the hands of his mother, the mother whose sentencing was today. I was listening to Dar Williams song – the title of which I don’t recall – but the words are about a little child lying in a grave (I don’t know if it was dedicated to Matt Shephard or not, but it wouldn’t surprise me). I thought about it being addressed to God: “Let Your Love cover me. Like a pair of angel’s wings. You are my family. You are my family.” couldn’t stop crying – had to take an extra 15 minutes to get home so my own family wouldn’t see the mascara doing a Tammy Faye down my face.
Was talking with colleagues at lunch – wondering what I/we could have done differently. Strangely, I take solace when one says, “probably nothing.” But I am still very very pissed off. VERY pissed off. At the neighbors who said nothing. At the mother’s father who molested her from the time she was a little girl, at the man who beat him probably. Mostly at the source of evil in our universe. I thought of the many angels who came to my rescue as a child, an adolescent, a young adult, an old fart, and want to scream at God asking Her WHY? Not, why did this happen – I’m not so naive as to think that free will doesn’t mean what it means, but why was I so blessed? Did I fail at the quest I must be on in this life? Is there time to make things better in this world? Obviously not for little R. But for others.
So maybe I have been bad. I have failed. Failed to see what was hidden. Failed to see a clue, failed to pay attention to something. What? I don’t know. But he was close to his Daddy. He didn’t want to leave home. He was hyper, always getting bumps and bruises. But I didn’t hear the screaming during the day when Daddy wasn’t home. I didn’t see the throat that didn’t get treated. Others did and I’m mad they didn’t tell about it. Because if they had I would have fought this head on. But they didn’t….. and I didn’t. Two lights went out R. and his brother. and the world is a little darker now.
Maybe that’s why Heaven looks just a little bit lighter and better and more worth trying to attain, with God’s help only.
And maybe that’s why I knit on bright sunny afternoons and read books about happy hookers. Maybe that’s why I refuse to let the dark side win.
Maybe that’s why being one piece of the larger tapestry of a musical piece giving glory to God brings me solace and communion. I’m singing with R and his baby brother and all the others here today and gone yesterday. The Communion of the Saints they call it and some are definitely more saintly than others:)