The bible says that God makes no mistakes, bringing people and experiences in your life to fulfill destinies. Maybe, even if it’s miniscule, every relationship that crosses your path has meaning and purpose. For years, I had a hard time understanding why I’ve experienced so much pain and hardship. Having to bear through tragedies that each have tried to deteriorate me into nothing but in the interim, created a beast that is indestructible. It is an oxymoron that has seemed to be a reoccurring act in this production I call my life.
When I was 16 years old I met the most broken kid I’ve ever met to this day and fell in love with his wounds. From that day forward there has been a part of me chasing to fix those imperfections, mentally and physically draining myself of all my energy to fix his inner child. The little boy who yearned to be loved so badly. The little boy who was abandoned by his parents. The little boy who never got what he deserved. At the time, I never realized how incredibly strong he was forced to be. I have been torn apart my adult life, forced to see the world through the eyes of a traumatized woman. He had been torn apart during his childhood, forced to see the world through the eyes of a traumatized child. 20 years later, piecing together these rugged edges of glass that has shattered into a million pieces, the finished product is finally visible.
Maybe my purpose in his life was to make him better through his generations. Maybe it’s my job to make right what so many people in his life made wrong. Maybe he was never given a chance so our son can have them all.
I’ve had a fog over my eyes since he came into my life, somehow never seeing how strong I’ve been because I couldn’t save him. Despite all of my wins, he was always the loss that I couldn’t get past. I held on to the thought that I couldn’t save him from his pain and his pain became mine. Slowly after the years passed, I watched as they became my sons.
I’ve always known who I was and where I came from. Comfortable in the skin of just knowing the basics of my background. When you’re not offered the space or time to know where you come from, there’s a void that becomes prevalent in the back of your head. It seems like such a small insignificant piece of a person’s life but when you aren’t warranted information from people that genuinely love you, you tend to ruminate on the idea of who you are from your own eyes. Viewing it from a traumatized child’s mind, Alex found comfort in his lies. Now that I look back at it, after years of research into mental health and traumatic stress, he created a world in his mind of who he was and it stuck. Any world outside of his reality was better than what he was handed for a life. Despite how much I loved him or fought to keep him off the streets, the façade he built around this story he portrayed was too deep to walk away from. I know that most people would see criminals as very one sided, evil even, however, we all have very complex layers to us. I was able to see him for the wounded boy he was and I felt lucky to be able to experience that. The rest of the world seen a monster and I seen a victim. There’s power in that.
Today marks 15 years since his murder and I never expected to feel peace. This is a huge part of my life that has been such a difficult space to accept. I never thought I’d feel comfort in my ability to save him but I helped to save our son. Now, somehow, I feel like I am making a difference in his own story. Seeing my baby boy struggle to find his own peace with identity and create a world that he held inside for so long, broke me harder than his father could’ve ever done. Instead of ignoring it, we started asking the right questions.
Now that our boy is better, on his own journey towards healing and finding his self identity, I’m able to see the similarities in them both. Alex created a character in which he acted on, he brought into the world the same chaos and pain he was presented with for so long. Frank, however, created a character in his head that was trapped. I started to see this new person start to show face and it scared me. The same way I seen Alex in his casket prior to his death was the same way I saw Frank in a penitentiary, lost in his own mind. Both were predictions, one of which I never had control over and blamed myself for. I now had a chance to make right everything in my heart that gave up hope so long ago. In a physical sense, God gave me a chance to heal both of us. Our child is such a perfect mix of who we were when he was born and now I’m wise enough to take care of business and make things right.
15 years ago, a 22 year old broken boy was murdered with his best friend while playing video games in his front room. Today, a 17 year old strong willed, smart and creative boy has found sobriety and the will to live. Today, he has an opportunity to change the entire outcome of his future in such a positive way, to join a program that will guide and encourage him to meet all the dreams he’s ever had and have a chance to live in Downtown Chicago surrounded by greatness. The same company I was working for the day he died. God really knows how to play mysterious games.
Today I don’t cry for the boy that was left behind but I cry tears of joy for the outcome of our son. I cry because I know without the decisions Alex made, I may have never made it this far. I cry for the young girl who yearned for the love and care of a kid that never experienced love. I cry for the baby I had that never had a chance to know the sweet and funny person his father was. I cry for the life I live now, with the man that made me whole in all the best ways, who pulled me and Frank in his heart and never let go. I cry for my youngest son, who gets to experience life in full without pain, worry or fear. I cry today because I’m human and pain never really goes away from grief. I am no longer crying because I couldn’t save my first love, I cry because I saved our son.
God loves you and so do I,
-XO
