Sunday, June 05, 2011

Oh, God




Clint and his Army recruiter


Gary and I have been watching the AMC series, The Killing. The basic premise is that a young girl went missing, was found murdered and her body was found in the trunk of a car that is part of a fleet of vehicles owned by a politician. The show is sharp, fascinating and very well-acted by (for the most part) little-known actors.

Tonight's episode veered a bit and focused on the lead policewoman on the case. She was following leads on the murdered girl's whereabouts before the killing and was rudely interrupted when her own 13-year-old son went missing.

I watched closely as she went through an agony only those of missing kids go through. She was angry, freaked, in denial, scared spitless, then overcome with gut-wrenching relief when she found her son standing outside their hotel room door. The first thing she did was hug him--tight.

I haven't asked Gary but I know he followed every facial expression, every tear, every bit of emotion. And I realized something I probably already knew: my heart, our hearts, are far more ragged from not knowing where our son is than we ever realized.

We've been through the anger and denial and we've been going through gut-wrenching fear off and on for years now. The character in the show, the mom, heard about the discovery of a body of a young boy between the ages of 10 and 13 and she went ballistic. I check news reports EVERY SINGLE DAY and am thankful beyond words that I don't find Clint's name among them. But I know there are moms and dads out there who will go through hell on earth that day and I feel for them something fierce.

I know I post a lot about Clint, but no one has to read what I write. I just need to write about him. Family, my Christian family, stopped asking about their cousin, nephew, grandson and that's only hurt upon hurt. My sister and one cousin are the only two who continue to bring his name up and we are so grateful for that.

A part of me wishes I hadn't seen tonight's show, and another reminds me that would only be denial. I prefer to face this test head-on, and to do that I need to break down the area I've built up around my heart to protect it. God knows where Clint is and when the time is right, we will too.

Oh, God. Give us strength until that time.

Amen.

1 comment:

Jacque said...

Margi,

I love reading your posts, especially those about Clint. The healing powers of writing are amazing. As always, you are in our thoughts and prayers.

Jacque Komnick