Whispers

When you have lost someone, you love deeply pain ebbs and flows. The past few weeks have been particularly painful. I am reminded of how much I miss my daughter. While talking through some of that I said to my wife, “I am tired of the pain.”

During a particularly down period, Nereida had found and gave me a paper of an assignment Lauren must have been given when she was in 5^th to 7^th grade. The assignment asked a few questions designed to demonstrate Gods care and love for us and the warmth and comfort that generates in us. That message holds true for you! The assignment asked where she lived between the ages of 5 and 12 and what the winters were like. She mentioned that winters were cold and how she enjoyed sledding and snowboarding. Then she mentioned a time when, Evan, Lala (Laurens nickname), and I had to travel to school for about 40 minutes each way a day. I loved those times. It was a chance for me to be isolated with my kids and just talk or do whatever they wanted to do. On several occasions we would listen to audiobooks, one really good one was “House” by Ted Dekker and Frank E. Peretti, it was a great listen, that produced lots of great conversation. That was the one Lauren mentioned, maybe we were listening to it at that time.

Next, the assignment asked, “What was the center of warmth in your life as a child”. Lauren wrote the Living room, with her trademark “heart” icons to dot all I’s. It was true, at that age, the living room was the hub of most of our activities, we played games there, held private concerts, and had Friday night camp-outs watching endless marathons of “Free Willy”, “Motocrossed” and others. It was a place where we felt warm, connected, and close as a family. I always looked forward to those Fridays. The assignment then asked who was the center of warmth in your life, she wrote “dad”. The moment I read that the very warmth the assignment was talking about flooded my heart and mind. The truth is that Lauren was very close to all of us, especially her mom and in very deep ways, her brother. I think each of us gave her an important piece of what she needed in life.

We never know the power of a kind word, encouraging action, or just a small statement that can show we love. On that paper, Lauren left her trademark doodles and wrote in her signature, extremely tiny lettering that was precise and perfectly neat. Several of her teachers asked if we could somehow get her to write bigger, we were never able to convince her! I could not put a value on that note today. I can tell you it immediately found a place in the small treasure of prized pieces that help me feel connected to my little girl. Lauren didn’t know the power those three letters would have when she wrote the assignment, nor did I, we couldn’t. We never talked about the assignment. We just went on living life, but that little action flooded her father’s soul with the warmth she was learning about.

You get the chance to do something like that today, maybe for the loved one you care so much about who is battling an addiction, or maybe for the person who is standing with you, still encouraging you, still doing all they can to believe in you. Or as the addict Johnny says ”Is always there for you.”  See ‘This is skid row’: What two current heroin addicts want you to know – CNN to hear Johnny and Allies story

Loving someone through addiction or mental health issues always causes second-guessing, even when they are gone. We constantly hear the whispers that ask “Did I let them down?”, “Could I have done more?”. I can’t fully answer those questions now, and to dwell on them too long is dangerous, but I do believe we could and can always do more to be a positive influence. One of the things I constantly asked the myriad of programs and people we spoke with in helping LaLa was to “Please tell me what I can do better.”  By that, I was not saying this was my fault, it was not, but I do feel there were things I did that sure weren’t helping.

What I do know, and you, for yourself, should know this too, is I did all I could do with what I had then. I have learned a lot about addiction and mental health since I lost my daughter to a heroin overdose. Some of those things would have influenced how I responded and interacted with LaLa through her addiction. I always wonder if it would have been enough to make a difference.

Learn that the whispers are not always true, and if you listen too much they are not helping you, but you can plant a seed of hope somewhere in the life of your loved one that might just one day be priceless and provide warmth in the soul of a person that could use it.

This weeks featured image is Untitled, Brooke Shaden is the photographer. Looking at it I can hear the whispers troubling her mind.