So many thoughts, and no words to say them with. I’ve been befuddled, perplexed and even fearful. I don’t know if it is right to share publicly what is personal family trauma. If it happened to me and I want to write about it, do I have an obligation to others involved to keep my trap shut?
I’ve been struggling with this for weeks now. I’ve started several posts that I have discarded. I have theories up the yingyang, philosophies that would astound Sophocles, and ideas that would curl most people’s hair. But knowing if I have the right to tell what I think is as illusive as the fairy basslet fish I’ve been trying to photograph all week.
This conundrum has silenced my writing wit for the past several weeks. It has broken my heart and left me on my knees begging God to wave a magic wand over the individual who has me in such straights. No, it is not hubs nor my children. It is my brother.
I’ve written letters to him I will probably never send. I believe, rightly or wrongly I don’t know, that something happened to him when he was very young. And it was irreparable. A brilliant mind was shattered, and the soul that was left was plunged into a life of unimaginable misery. I don’t know the complete truth, but would dearly love to hear it. Maybe I’m being a simpleton. Maybe I’m the one with the problem, unable to believe that someone could stray so far down a horrific path without just cause. I don’t know what to believe, and I am extremely short on answers and wisdom. I only know that it is so painful to watch him suffer, even if it is his own doing. It’s even more difficult to acknowledge that not only is it not up to me to save him, but understanding that even if it were, I could not.
And that leaves me with prayer. For whatever happens, the answer will be in prayer.