For several months after returning home, I devoted myself to scrutinizing my notes and journals to ensure I recalled the precise responses to my questions, as well as the character of the individual who answered them. No memo, observation, obscure remark, leaflet, symbol, or image was knowingly ignored. My intent was to be as accurate as possible, as if my life depended upon it. Maybe it eventually will?
Reluctantly, I forced myself to probe dark corners of my mind to summon memories I had given up for lost, or deliberately suppressed, as the carnage of war eternally ingrained in a nineteen-year-old’s mind.
I searched my core principles intensely, in an effort to reassess tragic ordeals, challenges and successes throughout my life to confirm if God had saved me through my prayers. On the other hand, was it as Arnold alluded, I was salvaged by happenstance, within a universe of chaos.
I sat at my desk and removed my tattered journals and copious notes from the cluttered drawers. As I gathered my
~ 181 ~
thoughts, I gazed at the portrait of Jessica hanging on the wall in front of me. The agony of her death continues to burn deep within my heart, as I understand, it shall forever be.
However, as I learned from many remarkable people along my journey who endure similar pain, I must keep the memories of happiness and love she brought to me, burning a thousand times brighter than the shadows of torment. It is a struggle I must win every day.
I turned to a blank page in my journal and began to transcribe my thoughts and judgments to reconcile the spiritual and secular discords that have been churning in my mind for decades.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish
Comment on this Bubble
Your comment and a link to this bubble will also appear in your Facebook feed.