Lost And Found

Growing up with only one parent presents many challenges in addition to the growing pains of life itself. No matter the circumstance, not having a complete family can often lead to a bevy of hardship. Many will argue that life is full of situations that may alter our ability to grow, yet it is up to the individual on how to overcome such obstacles. Perseverance and determination automatically become character traits that one would need right away to control this imbalance.

Life with my mother was so special. She did everything in her power, often with less tools in the belt to see that I was cared for and nurtured adequately. Her leaving my father when I was only three years old would be a huge first step towards seeing that I was in a healthy environment needed to thrive and grow. It goes without saying that it wasn't always easy for her, one income and a modest one at that dictated sacrifice become a regular occurrence needed to maintain financial balance and stability. With that in mind I still never had a need in the world and quite frankly very few wants. I was able to play organized sports with my peers, partake in Cub Scouts, and though my saxophone was used and a bit rusty with years of wear from it's previous owner, I was privileged and each of these opportunities allowed me to expand my cultural horizon. These little efforts ended up having significant impact on my development as I would learn at an early age appreciation for all that was done on my behalf. God had chosen the perfect mother for me and I admire every attempt made to see that I was a normal, happy child.

No matter how hard she tried, and boy she sure tried hard, not having a man in my life to help me understand certain things left a void and many questions. It would not be immediately noticed, but as I grew certain challenges would become especially difficult for me. Early examples being the ability to use my hands for either general maintenance of the home and lawn or changing a flat tire in a Florida rainstorm. Of course there were biological and physiological elements to this is as well and let's face it, she was not a man hence there was little she could do to explain the changes going on in my mind and body. With this in mind and other considerations as well, it wasn't ideal being raised in a family full of women though I can tell you this in earnestness, I would never think back and wish to change it nor grow to resent it.

As time goes by certain manifestations in myself would allow me make up for not having a father present. Whether it was through friends and their families or even family of my own, I was able to carve out my place in this world and do so without exception. Loving someone more than life itself, and mutually so, would be a beautiful bond cherished by us both. Sadly, nothing in this world last forever and all we know to be true can be altered in an instant or in some cases deteriorate over time. That would be the situation here, not our relationship of course, but the painfully slow unraveling of her health.

When someone is so deeply cared for it is only natural to want to assist in anyway necessary as they are going through a trial in life. She was there for me when gravely ill, in a legal jam, when I was dumped by a girlfriend, you name it and she was there. So when she herself was diagnosed with cancer for a second time surely I wanted to be for her all that she had been to me. What bothered me most about that is the fact I would have no control whatsoever. There was nothing in the physical world that I could do to remedy her fear or condition as a whole. Helplessness is an awful feeling when dealing with a tribulation of such magnitude and was I forced to rely solely on my faith. No matter how bleak things appeared I was always so hopeful, surely she wasn't going to leave me. Despite the optimism and prayers, the outcome wasn't what I prayed for or what I ever imagined possible. To be fair I know she never would have left me alone by choice but the fact remains that she did leave. My life was never going to be the same, all I had known and loved with one fell swoop was gone and I was left wondering if i'd ever be the same again.

Major change is often regarded as scary yet exciting. It is one of few examples where something can hold such distinguishing values at the same time. There was nothing exciting about what I went through after her death. I ended up using substances that changed everything about me and was no longer the person that she had spent the better part of thirty-five years helping me become. I found myself terribly alone, masking the pain and making terribly poor choices. So substandard in fact I ended up in a gated community, not one associated with the golden years of life either. You with me? If there is any uncertainty and the subtext of this paragraph didn't have you arrive at the proper conclusion, I went to jail. Not only that but previous indiscretions years before presented the chance I that could be facing a considerable amount of time behind bars. Alone did not begin to describe the emptiness of how I felt and seemingly existed.

After some time in the facility the chemicals left my body and my mind became much clearer. The seriousness of my situation set in and life-preservation became the mission. I reached out to what remaining family I had left, this includes a voice message to my father, one that could not be returned for obvious reasons nor did I have an address to write him. Though the clock moves incredibly slow in dark periods time truly waits for no man and my court date did eventually arrive. The anxiety was in full gear as I knew that by that afternoon I would be resigned to the fate of a judge, praying wholeheartedly that he would show mercy. There was never an attempt by me or my legal representation to use my mother's passing as an excuse, one thing a judge cannot stand is lack of accountability. When we got to the courthouse a sudden calm came over me, it was as if I knew my fate would be determined and that I could take solace in knowing that whatever my future were to be I no longer had to anticipate in worry. Unbeknownst to me there would prove to be more to it than mere resolution.

The finality was near, whatever would happen was rapidly coming to fruition and I was able to muster strength that I had not felt since before losing my mother only months ago. From when I kissed her goodbye until that very moment there was not an instance where I had such peace of mind. Inmates are left in a holding cell until their name is called as one would imagine for various security protocols and since my last name begins with the letter 'C' the wait was shorter than for many. There was little I could do but take a deep breath and hope that the judge didn't spill coffee on his favorite tie or have a spat with his spouse before leaving for work.

Upon entering the courtroom amongst the sea of faces standing at the opposite podium was one I knew well despite the years of estrangement. My attorney and a few feet of separation was all that stood between my father and I, needless to say a great deal of emotions were forefront. So many in fact that whatever conclusions the judge could possibly derive at was lost on me in that moment. Simultaneously silence befell me in the most unnatural way. Though I didn't forget how to speak one might think I was a mute as I stood there in stupor, not even recognizing that I was being asked to acknowledge my legal existence before the court. Shortly after the affirmation stating that I was in fact the person that the record indicated the proceeding continued and the attention shifted from me. This is when the attorney would normally begin with an assortment of legal verbiage pertaining to my case and its outcome, instead it was as if the whole room went dark with only a spotlight illuminating my fathers aged features. What happened next is something that in addition to my beloved mother I think about each and every day. My father stood there and addressed the court with such eloquence and compassion. He took responsibility for not being the man I needed in my life up until that moment but court permitting was more than willing to become. He explained that something which was never there could still be deemed "lost" because as it was missing there was distinct recourse for such absence. He too I suppose understood the gravitas of being accountable in a courtroom. There was a true sense of purpose in his words and the action of him being there spoke for itself. He informed the judge of how many years it had been since we had seen one another and that for the betterment of both Him and I it was time for him to be a father. To be quite honest the effect that it had on me was much more profound than it had been on the judge but to say that he wasn't moved at all would be disingenuous. What my lawyer and I prepared for, a couple of years in prison seemed to be in order, was in fact only an additional ninety days, with some post-release sanctions of course. There is no amount of time that I could have been sentenced to that would change the residual feeling of his presence that particular day.

The page had finally turned, the rush of emotions from angst to awe were settling and as storybook as it could get I was released with stipulation that I transfer to the jurisdiction where my father in fact resided. This mandate gave my dad an opportunity to have me nearby and gave me a chance to have new scenery and perspective. It was imperative, not by legal standing persay, that I give my father a chance to right his wrongs as I too needed my own correction and that it be done in unison. Some may feel my release date being the day before my mother's first birthday since she had passed was coincidence, but based on the aforementioned account above it is likely that you know I happen to think otherwise. This account would play a major role in my spirituality to date.

Events that I have endured may cause a ripple in ones faith yet it proved to be a benchmark in my own. As a matter of fact it allowed me to draw nearer to Him, to become fully trusting in His will and that development of intimacy likely gave me the necessary armor to not fall completely apart during such a tumultuous time. We all lose things along this journey and are elated to be reunited whenever possible but my story speaks of the found. It is a joy that goes commonly unrecognized because most often times it is the person who lost an item, or loved one, where the attention resides. So from that different vantage point I recognized that both my dad and I were lost just in different ways and in the same respect only by the grace of God were we equally found.