I'm troubled, frankly, and I don't know where to turn for support.
While I don't really believe in your existence--at least your existence as it's described in the good book--I need a place today to vent some anguish and angst I'm feeling. A place to contemplate life, and the devastating loss of it. A place to pause between the stressors of work and the stressors I feel as I watch my community grow into something it shouldn't be.
Since I had this blog and all, I figured this may be the place to do it. And although I don't really believe in you, please don't consider it disrespectful that my letter is addressed to you.
I'm hopeful, after all.
You may have heard about what now appears to be a murder-suicide that happened in Barboursville, West Virginia earlier this week. It's been in all the papers. It seems a 38-year-old Barboursville man told his two daughters, ages 10 and 5, that they all were going on an impromptu vacation. He packed them up and placed them in the car, closed up the garage door and started the engine.
According to reports, he and the girls died quickly from carbon monoxide poisoning.
Although "crushed" isn't the best word to describe how I feel, it works. I didn't know the family, and never met the young girls. But I'm crushed. Overwhelmed by the loss of innocence and potential, and the tragedy that is-- too often-- the end result of despair.
I want to he hopeful.
Maybe I can't get this story out of my head because I have daughters of similar ages. I dunno. It could be that I'm just pissed off, knowing the trust that should exist naturally between children and their fathers is often violated. Maybe I'm mad that you, God, don't exist. If you did exist, you could stop this from happening. Before kids are hurt. Before lives are lost.
I just can't find my hope.
Not today, anyway.
The Film Geek