10 09 2011

I am lucky. I have my two children within reach of me right now.

Kienan’s mother does not.

Apart from the horror and sickening nausea inside my (and every other parent’s) stomach when I heard he went missing, there remains a terrible question in my heart.

What would I do?

What would you do?

If your child was found hurt and dead. Or if your child was found hurt and alive. Or if your child was never ever found again.

How do you move on? How do you carry forward? Is there ever laughter again? Joy? Gratitude? Kienan’s mom and dad are right now somewhere, waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Every time their phone rings, every knock on the door means hopes lifted and then dashed. How their hearts must ache; I cannot even fathom.

Would I need to be sedated? Allow some drug to blur my reality and numb my pain? Let an opiate course through my grieving veins, removing the terror, if only for a few minutes…. Perhaps I would become an addict. I would embrace the cloud of disfunction if only to distance myself from the fucking truth. This unknown unbearable truth.

Or perhaps, I think maybe I would rather know the truth, even if it was horrible. I would need a clear mind to deal with whatever comes my way. Even though it would never put to rest the constant wondering that rips the very soul apart, clarity itself is a drug. Perhaps like the mother of Michael Dunahee, missing now since 1991: twenty years now, his mother has waited. Wondered. Hoped. Grieved. Every day she must wake up and think “Maybe today”.

I desperately hope that Kienan is found. I wish that he will be unharmed. And that his mother and father get to smother him with countless kisses and hugs.

I fear they may not ever have that chance.

I fear their kisses when he returns may not be enough to heal the chasm of wounds.

But most of all, I fear the unknown. I fear the wondering and waiting, every second an agonizing millenia of emptiness.

Please please please let him come home. May he be safe. May he be sound. May he be unhurt in body, mind and spirit. May his parents pick him up and embrace him and never ever let him go.




4 responses

10 09 2011
Lana Torwalt

Please, please, please…oxo

11 09 2011

Amazing, the morning after I wrote this, we all woke to hear that he was returned to his home in the middle of the night. What a wonderful relief…..

11 09 2011

U have just spoken for us all thankyou

11 09 2011

This just proves that miracles really do happen
Thankyou lord

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: