I had been struggling all summer trying to configure in my mind how to keep the story that has already been written flowing in the same format of story telling while preparing myself to open old wounds and ultimately find healing in my heart and soul. You see, all that has been written on the blog which is my story and had been written almost a year ago. I had written to a friend the accounts of my childhood and the story came out as such, it being a story. So, when I went to start the blog and post my story, it had already been done, all that was left for me to do was fix a few things, and revise to fit and flow. But, all that has been posted had been all I had written and so the need to find time to sit and devote myself to my memory bank and computer and put it all into a story was challenging. I had a job to find, other areas in my life demanded my attention, my energy and even emotional devotion. I think a part of me knew that when I sat down to write more, there would be as I said earlier, wounds to open up again and scars to be remade and ultimately emotions to deal with and I guess I just didn't need any more emotions to deal with, at least that's what I thought but I think the Lord knew differently.
Right when I thought my plate couldn't be any more full than it was in my life and there wasn't enough stress and chaos to deal with, it happened, that day in my life that I had only seen in other's lives around me, was now unfolding and it stopped my world. The day Friday, July 26th had started out as usual, looking for a job, working another part time job that morning and then the day had allowed time for me to lay down and rest and try to find relief from a stress related headache that was quickly turning into a migraine. I laid down to rest and even silenced my phone so that I wouldn't be disturbed by notifications going off while I slept, I really needed to get rid of that headache. I must have been tired and that wasn't unusual, stress can do things to you and it had made me constantly tired. I slept for a couple of hours and then woke up around 4:00pm eastern time, and like I usually do when I wake up, I reached for my phone to check for anything that had come through. I found multiple notifications at the top, text messages, a missed phone call, private messages from Facebook and Facebook notifications. I quickly made myself wake up as I started reading all that had come in. The first message I read was a text message from a dear friend in Houston and she had urgently suggested that I call my Dad saying that he had just posted something on his Facebook page and he sounded suicidal. I had another message from her saying something to the effect that he was saying things on FB and it just wasn't making sense. I quickly pulled up his Facebook page to find this long status update from him. The update in three paragraphs stated how heartbroken he was, and how he just couldn't go on with life. I won't go into details about what his heart breaking for, I want to save that for the blog later in my story. But, the status update he had written sounded like a good bye letter, at least it did to anybody who had dealt with suicides and people having been depressed and suicidal.
I then went and checked my FB messages and there was one from him. It said the following, word for word, ''sorry for everything...but this is what I have to do....you keep strong...you're a rock...i love you!!!'' I think my heart stopped, and my brain started racing. My Dad had been struggling with depression and for the last few months he would occasionally say things and I guess I just thought he was venting. And then the statements would get more discouraging and disheartening but again, I just thought he needed to vent and I was never sure why he wanted to vent to me, I guess it was because I was the only one who would listen, who would try to encourage, who tried to care. The weekend leading up to the 26th, he had been given divorce papers by my adopted mom and he and I knew it was coming, there had been events that had been leading up to it for several months now and he had been dreading it and then it happened. He didn't want the divorce, he didn't want the circumstances that he had found himself in to even happen but they had. My adopted parents had been separated for 7 months now and it was a nasty separation on her part, why it was like that I'll probably never know but it had.
Anyways, without giving away more of the story that will come later, my Dad was just heartbroken and depressed. And as I read that message over and over I knew in my heart that this was it. He had told me that he had guns in the apartment and even had made a remark about them and possibly using them one day to 'end it all' and that remark quickly came back to mind and I immediately sprung into action, as much action as I could being in Jacksonville, Florida and he being in Conroe, Texas. I immediately called my friend who had been frantically texting me and asked for the phone number there at the police department and I called them. Thankfully Dad had given me his new address when moved into his apartment and I had it to give to the police, they said they would do a welfare check on him and then have a deputy call me back. That was the longest 2 hours I have ever seen go by in my life, it felt like 12. I sat with my eyes glued to my computer, to Facebook, hoping that I would see my Dad come back online and post something or respond to the few people who were commenting on his status. I tried calling the Conroe police department but because there was an hour difference in time zones, I reached their station after they had closed for the day and I didn't have a way to get a hold of anybody, I couldn't call 911 or I would call the 911 here in Jax.
My friend had posted on her Facebook for people to pray for the situation without giving out names and I had in a roundabout way posted an emergency need for prayer on my own Facebook page. I didn't want to be specific because I didn't know what was happening or what would happen.
In those 2 hours I saw people from all over the world offering words of prayer and encouragement, it kind of awed me because these people had no idea what they were praying for, not a single one knew that a life was at stake, that a heart was about to break in a million pieces, that lives would be forever changed if the outcome happened as it was suspected.
I didn't want to believe that I was asking a few specific people to pray for my Dad who was possibly going to commit suicide, I just didn't think that it was really happening. It wouldn't happen to me would it? The one person in my life who was trying to be a parent, trying to love me and make up for all the time and years gone by where we weren't allowed a relationship was about to leave this world if help didn't get there on time.
And then it happened, I was at home watching Facebook on my phone, waiting for that phone call and then I saw it. My brother, their biological son had posted to my Dad's FB page saying what a great dad he was and at the end it said he my Dad would be missed. I kept re-reading it. I wouldn't believe it. So, I sent my brother a private message on Facebook asking him what had happened and in short, curt responses he confirmed it, that he had done it and he was gone. I cried. I wept. I felt everything inside of me just crumble and die and I think I felt my heart shatter, maybe I had even heard it but I wouldn't know because the sobs were uncontrollable and probably loud. I knew it would happen one day but a part of me thought it wouldn't, it couldn't.
In the midst of sobbing and tears, I posted on my Facebook page what happened, told the world that the spiritual battle they had been praying for had ended and that a soldier had lost the war.
I sat on my bed with my phone in hand for what seemed like hours, I was numb, I couldn't cry any more (at least that's what I thought, I would find that we are capable of shedding tears for long periods of time), messages and phone calls were coming in by the numbers. I found myself not really wanting to talk to anyone except for a close friend of mine.
I didn't know what to do, here I was in Jacksonville, over 2, 000 miles away from my Dad and I didn't know what to do. I hadn't had a job, so I only had $10 to my name so the idea of going anywhere was out of the question. I didn't know who to talk to, or what else to say. I had posted what picture I had of my Dad and I and a short description of what had happened to my Dad on Facebook and I saw in awe as I saw the responses come in, words of sympathy and people's memories of my Dad coming in my the numbers. I even had messages come in from people I didn't know offering their words of condolences and it would be like this for the following days and weeks ahead.
I thought that night would never end, I knew that I wouldn't sleep that night, I sat aimlessly at my computer watching comments, reading messages and talked to a few people. The headache that I had been trying to be rid of earlier was coming back, I was starving but didn't have energy to eat or fix anything. I had a very dear friend in Houston call me, she was in tears, I was in tears, we tried to talk but we couldn't understand a word we were saying. Eventually we were able to speak and all I could do was tell her that I didn't think this was real. It was though. She immediately started making plans for me to fly to Houston, she was going to fly me out the next day if I wanted, bless her heart she wanted to do something for me and I was just touched by her generosity and kindness. She ended up buying me a pizza from Dominoes, she ordered it from Houston and had it delivered to my door from the Dominoes around the corner, it's funny what we can do with technology these days. She and I knew plans needed to be made, her dad was my pastor growing up and the pastor of the church where I had practically grown up in, the church my Dad spent so many years as the custodian.
Because of the situation at hand and because I was not in communication with my adopted mom and who I was just angry with at the time, and because of how I know she had treated my Dad before he died, I knew that he was not going to be remembered for the man he was and all that he had done for people. So, I knew it was going to be left up to me to make sure that he had a memorial service or something to allow myself and others to remember him by.
So my friend on the phone started talking, I wasn't sure what to do but she kind of took it head on and pretty much ran with it. Between her and another dear friend of mine who was like another parent to me growing up in the church, they made the arrangements for me to fly to Houston the the following Wednesday and plans for a small memorial service were being made for the people at my home church to participate in.
I was so anxious to get to Houston, I knew I had dear friends there who had also expressed their desire for me to come back so they could love me and be there for me. I was immediately homesick for Houston, for my home church, for my friends who were like and had become my family because the one person in my life at the time who was my family was now gone forever.
I knew that going to Houston was going to be what I needed physically and emotionally but I knew it was going to be challenging. The 'family drama' had started the day Dad died, my brother, their biological son was just being angry and he was finding it necessary to take it out on me. He of course sided with my adopted mom who never made an attempt to call me and so I knew that I didn't want to be around them when I got to Houston and I and friends of mine at home in Houston would do what they could to make sure that I would be safe. None of us realized that after I got to Houston that me needing to be safe was going to become a literal thing and would need to go into action.
Days after Dad died, I would be bombarded with questions about a funeral and arrangements but I would always have to answer with a sincere 'I don't know.'. I really didn't. I was not being included in the passing of my Dad and the reasons for this could have been numerous. I am sure that my adopted mom wanted nothing to do with me because I had finally started talking about my childhood through my blog and the truth was coming out and my Dad in his last FB status had come out with the truth about what she had done to him and what he had been going through because of her.
So, anything concerning Dad or a funeral was not being made known to me whatsoever.
I arrived in Houston on Wednesday and it felt good to be home. I was staying the whole time with a couple who were like another set of parents to me growing up, their girls and myself were close in age and they were just special people, in fact they became even more special by the time the week was over. There was a lot to talk about, a lot of catching up to do. Being connected with people on Facebook just doesn't do anybody any justice when it comes to being reunited.
The first night at my friend's house, we talked and talked, I spilled everything I could as far as my story goes, we talked about the blog and the events that had led up to my Dad's passing. It was draining talking about everything but I felt relieved and my friend just repeatedly validated everything I had been saying. I think I went to bed that night around midnight but like the all the nights since my Dad died, I wouldn't sleep, I hadn't slept. For the first 3 or 4 nights, I would cry myself to sleep, to sleep for an hour or so. I would toss and turn, I would sit there and rehash everything that had just happened. I would earnestly desire and look forward to that one night where I would sleep through the night. While I was in Houston, it became a daily question of whether or not I slept that night and I wouldn't find my first full night of sleep until a week after returning home from Houston in Florida.
On Thursday, I got a call from another friend who had confirmed that there was going to be a funeral for my Dad and I was not allowed to be there, in fact I was told that extreme measures were being put into place to make sure I wasn't there. So, it had been confirmed and I knew it was coming. The funeral would be Friday the next day and there wasn't a thing I could do. I would go out that day with my friend who I was staying with and we would go shopping to buy things for Dad's memorial service at her home on Sunday evening. It was nice of her and it kept my mind off of things. We purchased a frame that could be signed by those attending Sunday evening and then we found items for a scrapbook to put together. It would have notes inside of memories that the guests would write down, memories of my Dad or notes to me. And then we would have pictures with me and the guests put in the scrapbook. My childhood girlfriend and her mother who was like a second mother to me growing up were photographers and they would kindly take the pictures that evening.
Sunday night finally came and I was just excited about seeing people who I had known since I was 4 or 5 years old and who I hadn't seen in 13 plus years. Again, we have been friends on Facebook but it just doesn't do any justice. More than 40 people showed up at my friends' house that night and it was very special. We sat in the living room talking about my Dad and the memories we all had of him, we sang songs, well they sang songs, I was in tears. We watched a 20 minute segment of a sermon Rick Warren had preached for the first time after taking a 4 month sabatical after his own adult son committed suicide. Rick Warren would preach his first and most powerful message the day after my Dad died. I think the Lord may have been in the timing of that.
The evening was sweet and precious, the Lord was there in the midst of it all. I had finally seen and hugged people who were family to me, even people who I had just reconnected with the day before the memorial. The Lord truly showed up that week and even more so that evening. I found peace that night and even though there was something inside of me that felt like something was either missing or I felt like I didn't have closure yet (probably due to the lack of being able to attend a funeral), I had some peace. The night wore on until about midnight, it ended with a few friends around a dining room table eating tacos from Jack In The Box and going down memory lane. It was very special and I will never forget it.
I was able to spend time with a few dear friends who I had met at a church that I went to in my last couple of years at home, again, we were all connected on Facebook but hadn't seen each other in 13 years. These friends would become special and dear to me as well and that part of the story will be told here shortly on the blog.
Eventually the week came to an end and it was time to get back to Florida. I had missed my Little Man and my friends there and so I was ready to come back but dying inside to leave Houston and all the dear special people who had just touched my life in more than just one way. They reminded me of what true love was all about, what being a friend is and what support means to someone. They didn't just tell me they loved me and cared about me like most people do, they acted on it and put their words into action and I saw every bit of it displayed.
I've been home from Houston for a week now and have gotten back into some kind of routine, I am still looking for a job, facing an eviction at the moment, trying to stay on top of bills, dealing with the same issues I was dealing with before Dad died but I have finally been able to sleep at night which means that I'm finding peace about my Dad's untimely death. Yes, there are questions as to why or what if but as Rick Warren said in his message, ''I would rather walk through life with God and not know the answers to all my questions than to walk through life without God and know all the answers.''
I know my faith in the Lord is strong, I know He is sovereign and that NOTHING catches Him by surprise and even in the midst of the heartache and the pain, I know He is still on His throne. I don't understand why I've gone through my childhood dealing with such heartache and rejection and keep finding myself at places in my life where I wonder why me? But I know He knows why.
My Dad kept bugging me before he died about my blog, he actually encouraged me to keep writing, he would bug me to the point of irritation as to why I hadn't written anything else or posted it anyways. In fact he would ask me 2 days before he died and even told me that when he would talk to the people there at his apartment complex about his children, he would tell them about each of the stories and when he would get to me, he said that people's jaws would drop, he told me he would direct everyone to my blog and that those people would come back and tell him 'wow'. He wanted me to keep writing and I think in his heart he wanted to know how the story would end.
So, I will keep writing my story as he told me too, I will keep trying to make a difference in someone's life out there, no matter who they are and what they're story is. All of us are broken people in one way or another, we all struggle with issues like depression and heartache and overwhelming circumstances. We all have a story to tell and like my childhood pastor said, 'how you determine the outcome of the story is up to you'. You can make it a good story or you can make it bad. My story is bad but it will end good, because I know the One person and have confidence in Him that 'He who hath begun a good work in you, will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.''. That comes from Philippians 1:6 which is one of my life verses, a second one is my mission statement in life, 'And of those have compassion making a difference' (Jude 22). I think I said it when I started my blog, I want to inspire others in life and inspire them to make a difference, I want to make a difference in someone's life. According to all the comments and memories that people had written about my dad, he made a difference and I too want to make a difference and I'll do that by continuing my story.
So, sit back and be ready for the second part of the story, I think you'll find it inspiring. I have been at a Writer's block for a while now and the Lord had to put a pause in my song but it's time now to move on and share with others what He has taught me.
Until next time, be blessed and inspire to make a difference!!
~The Adopted Child
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