"When love isn't enough"

   Years  and years ago, I was engaged to my college sweetheart.  For whatever reason, weeks before the wedding and a move across the country, the nuptials were called off.

   I laid upstairs on my bed, pondering my new life and I heard my mom tell my aunt (who is childless), "the worst ache in your heart is when your child is hurting and there isn't a darn thing you can do to stop the hurt or change anything."

Boy, did my mom get off easy.  I will take a broken engagement any day of the week over a T-4 spinal cord injury that results in paraplegia.

  When the boys struck out looking with bases loaded and were crushed, so was I. 

   Losing a state championship wrestling match to the defending champ by one point, heartbreaking. 

    And that "mean girl middle school afternoon", kicked my heart.

All child's play until January 1, 2017.

If I could rip my lower abdomen off, like a Color-form, and place it on my son, it would have been done. 90 days ago. 

Today I got a postcard in the mail.  It basically told me to get back into the grove and keep blogging.  I laughed. 

The truth is, there is really nothing to write.  There is not anything new.  Except real profound sadness.  Acceptance can be very challenging.  Very.  And sad.  Especially when you are 23.  And you could live another 60 years. 

This weekend marks 6 years that the "hell" began with a son who was obviously confused about so many things. 

He was on THE path.  And again, the path changes.

It takes courage to revamp, regroup, redirect and reinvent yourself.  It takes courage to start over after a divorce.  Loving and trusting again is huge. 

It takes courage apply for jobs after termination.

It takes courage to get out of bed after you bury a spouse or a parent.

It takes courage, strength and I am not even sure what else it would take to get out of bed after you bury a child.

It takes courage and strength and again, I am not even sure I know what it takes to get out of a bed when you cannot move. Do you even get out?

Somebody asked me if I was angry at the shooter.  I don't know.  I am shocked so much by that statement.  I find it ironic that the shooter will most likely get out of prison but my son got the life sentence.  I don't know if I am angry.  He shot somebody he didn't even know for no reason.  You hear about these things but they do not truly penetrate your soul until they affect you.  So I am not sure if I am angry.  Being angry doesn't change a thing.  This is a man who shot somebody, unarmed,  from behind, with intent to kill for no reason.  This really isn't a man, it is a beast and our world is full of them.  Would my anger change anything?  I doubt it.  If my anger resulted in upward mobility, then I would be a raging lunatic. 

I am a fixer.  Mess cleaner-upper.  This is the biggest mess ever sent my way and nothing I do will change the outcome.  Nothing.

All the love in the world will not change a thing.

I think about the parents who are camped out at St. Jude's while children fight to get well.

I imagine their days are pray, breathe, hope, pray, breathe, hope and repeat. 

I think about laying still in a hospital bed, in the middle of the night waking up and looking down at my toes that no longer work and think, "what the hell just happened, how did I get here, how do I get out and when do I leave?" 

I lay awake and night and think those same things about him.  And there is nothing I can do.

I cannot sprinkle magic dust, grow magic beans, turn back time, slay a dragon, cast a spell, kiss a frog or make a call on the Bat phone.

I can just Hope and Pray.  Love isn't enough.