You Called My Name

I'm staring at a picture of you Sarah. I have wanted to post a picture ever since day one. In the beginning, there were pictures of you everywhere. Then, slowly the pictures went away. When we published your story, I wanted the world to see your face again. I wanted the world to see how beautiful you are, but for the sake of your own safety we decided against it. I am so scared for you.

I have received your message. I don't understand it. I went into the coffee shop like you said, on the computer. I've been waiting to hear something from you for so long. After reading your diary Sarah, I have been in a daze. I can't believe it. I have read this diary over and over again trying to figure it out. I have read this diary over and over again trying to understand it. Every time I turn to a new page, I hope and pray it brings me closer to you. I started this blog hoping it would give me a way to find you. After the first contact, I was extremely excited. My joy and sense of accomplishment climaxed when I received your message. I waited at the coffee shop for hours upon hours thinking how great it was going to be to see you again. I watched every person come and go until there were no more people left to watch. The coffee shop closed and my heart crushed underneath the weight of its doors. Since that heartbreak, I have sat in front of this computer waiting on a message from you and finally yesterday it came. I don't understand it.

Sarah, I know it's you because the name you called me in your message. No one knows me by that name. No one has ever called me by that name other than you. You are the one who gave me that name. I knew it was you the first time. That's why I waited at the coffee shop for so long. At that time I wondered if you had seen me. Now I know you did. Yesterday you told me to go the coffee shop and grab my favorite coffee. You told me it was your treat. I didn't know what that meant at the time. I went to the coffee shop a little early trying to catch you or see if you were there. You left a specific time for me to be there and you must have known I'd be there early because you were nowhere to be found. I went to the counter to see if there was an order placed for me. The cashier told me 'no.' My heart sank. I walked away dejected. On the verge of tears I exited the coffee shop. I walked almost to the sidewalk when I remembered and ran back in. The same cashier stood at the counter looking at me a little concerned. I walked into the cashier and said the name you gave me. The cashier turned to me and said, "yes" we have your order right here. It was my favorite order of coffee, a muffin, and a note. I asked the cashier 'who paid for this order?' She told me a gentleman paid for the order and left. I stood there for a moment wanting to ask a question but no question came to mind, so I took my order and walked away. It wasn't until I got home that I was able to read the message you left with the order. I still don't understand it. It read, "You will find me where the sunsets and the birds fly free."

Sara, I don't understand the message. I don't understand what you mean. Do you not want me to find you or are you in trouble? I know no one knows me by that name other than you. So who was that man? Who was the man who paid for my order? How can you watch me and not come talk to me? Sarah, if I find a way to the place where the sunsets and the birds fly free, I will make it to that place to find you. I'm not going to abandon you. I will be here for you. If you are hurt or afraid of the people you're with, I will be here for you whenever you come to me. Now that I know you are reading this, I will continue to write. I love you Cuddlebug. I miss you. Write more later.

Faces of Love

Every year in this country hundreds, thousands of people go missing. Each one of these missing persons has a story. Each one of these missing persons has a family. The family's and stories are not numbers or statistics. These are real people in a terrible predicament. The death of a person is tragic and it can sometimes be very sudden and unexpected, but closure comes with death. Accepting the passing of a person we care for may not come easy and it may take some longer than others to reach this acceptance, but how do you come to accept a missing loved one? How do you come to the understanding that someone you love is missing and you have no idea where they are? Imagine your mother, your sister, your father, your brother, or your child is missing. This is a horror that many people must face every day and unlike the acceptance of death it doesn't get easier with time. This is an open wound which does not heal without answers. This is what the family of missing loved ones must endure: a pain which seeks closure. It's a horror no one should endure.

Before my friend went missing I used to be like most people. I'd see a missing persons picture and think it was sad or be indifferent and mentally disregard it. I wouldn't commit it to memory. Those same faces could have walked past me on the street and I wouldn't have noticed. Those lost loved ones, who so desperately needed to be found, would have walked right past me. I'm not like that anymore. I may not be able to remember every name and every face, but those I do remember will be saved if they can ever cross my path. I can promise you that.

Those of you who read this today, please, please think about this message the next time you see one of their faces. You don't have to commit every face to memory, just be aware of the faces you do see. If we all participate like this we may be able to help those families suffering with this horrible open wound, receive some closure. Please help. Please don't disregard those faces. They are important members of people's families. We miss you Cuddlebug. TTYL.

April 2nd

I lost a dear friend at work today. I knew it was coming. I worked at a hospital. I work in a place where the cycle of life is constant. Life and death circle around me constantly. Babies are born; life begins to breathe air in this place I work. People die; life ends. Life takes its last breath in this place work. A vortex of human energy in constant cycle. My job is caretaker of human life. I am a nurse.

I do my best not to become too attached to the people who become patients at my job. I do my job. I take care of them and do my best to make sure their healthcare needs are met, but I don't get too attached. I learned early on that becoming attached to my patients can make my job hard. I learned early on that you can't hold onto life no matter how hard you try. When it's time for life to come or go, it is time. The children are always the hardest.

A young boy came into my job two days ago. He was the victim of a gunshot wound to his head. I've seen cases like this before. I work in a major metropolitan area where gunshot violence is prevalent. Young men and young women are shot (not always killed) every single day. I'm not used to it. I'm used to death but not used to seeing these kids. It's always shocking to see. I've become numb to the shock. It hits me and I absorb it. I absorb being shocked and quickly stabilize and proceed. I don't know what was so different about yesterday. At work, it always seems to be the same day over and over again. I enter and leave the same way, but when the young boy arrived my heart melted. I became overwhelmed with emotion. It was as if I'd known this little boy all my life. His little body lay motionless on the gurney. His energy surrounded by commotion: paramedics, nurses, respiratory specialist, doctors, police, firemen, and his mother. I'm used to the commotion which comes with the attempt to save the breath of life. This little boy was different. I wanted to know what happened to him. Why was this life so close to being gone? I wanted to ask but it wasn't my place. Still, this one was different somehow. I had to know. I asked one of the paramedics. He told me it was a gunshot wound to the head inflicted by a family member. He wasn't sure who. I couldn't be numb. Shock waves erupted throughout my body. Why? How? I heard his mom crying to the Cop taking her statement.

Her two little boys were playing video games. The younger one who lay motionless on the gurney was 10-years-old. Her other son was thirteen. Somehow the 13-year-old got a hold of a gun. He pointed it at his little brother playfully trying to scare him in an April Fool's joke and the gun went off. It wasn't her gun and she doesn't know where he got it from. All I could think was how in the world or why in the world does a 13-year-old boy had a gun? What has the world become? Children feel the need to have a gun or defend themselves with a gun? Children feel the need for protection from other children with guns? What kind of world do we live in?

I worked a double shift overnight and I constantly checked on this little boy whom I felt I'd known all his life. At some point I felt I'd seen him move but I knew he didn't. At some point, I felt light he'd make it through, but I knew he wouldn't. Early this morning before my shift ended he took his last breath. I kept my composure all the way to the car and then set in it and cried. A long drawn out cry that seemed to cleanse me back to my numbness.

This world is trouble. Why? Why did we say and do nothing? We blame and blame. It's time for me to do more cuddlebug. This blog I created for you may help someone someday. I'm deeply troubled. Tiffany made me some breakfast. I'm going to try and get some rest. I love you Cuddlebug. I miss you.