Dad handed me the carefully folded, familiar lined paper to which I have come to anticipate and treasure. Snatching it from his hand, I quietly settle into my favorite chair and begin envisioning the world of the writer behind those beautifully penciled words that now rest on the page before me. It reads:
“Daily bombarded by my darkest obsession, without it I spiral into deadly depression. Temptations surround me to attack when I’m weak, convincing me drugs provide the love that I seek. Roped in by the Devil my life was consumed, deceptively blinded feeling hopelessly doomed. With no sense of direction or intention to quit, I found myself unable to climb out of this pit. Through support of my family to treatment I went, cautious and nervous to grab the hand that was lent. It was there I was told if I don’t cease to be done, the next stage was death to a life which I only get one. Through fear and humility I took a good inward look, devastated and embarrassed of the actions in which I partook. My newly found knowledge helped me turn things around, I thank God for the happiness in sobriety I’ve found.”
It is through words like these that I reflect back to a precious little girl, with a twinkle in her eye, whose thoughts and words were beyond her years even as a child. One might consider that a curse, but I think it a blessing for the tapestry of life is threaded in many directions before the Master artist lays down the final stitch.