I WAS BLIND BUT NOW I SEE
This story is one of the most difficult I have ever written, but it is one that I believe will help others. I have written a few stories about my grandson. A grandson who is dealing with mental illness. This story is about a twenty-five-minute car ride that stretched out to be much more than I expected. It’s about the scripture, I was blind, but now I see, and the roller coaster feelings that led to the truth.
Released from the hospital two weeks ago, and for a few days seemed to be doing really well. Then, a slight change, noticeable, but not overly. During the night short texts, jumbled, not making sense, then, the difference standing out like a cold wind blowing hard through the trees. A phone call made, the decision decided, a car started, driving to him, thoughts and sadness encompassing two hearts, his and mine. A tall young man standing, waiting, pacing, my heart sinking, breaking, thinking; what do I say? Silent at first, as the car heads in a western direction, towards a destination that is familiar, a direction where the driver, would see a side that was not always visible to her eyes. He, jumbled in his thinking and speaking, she crying silently, holding tears that desperately wanted to escape. Conversations one-sided, a heart pleading to make sense of what was happening. Ears listening, thoughts forming, praying for the right words, words that would miraculously change him from spiraling to being whole. Then quiet from both, one staring, one praying. Inching closer to the building, but wanting to drive by, giving him a chance to reach down in his soul and like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat, returning to a whole being, saying, “”I’m okay!’ Two blocks past, ride extended, traffic thick, pleading prayer, three more miles, then the light, the change, a heart sinking, realizing the truth. Next exit, turning around, heading back to where we were, this time the answer is clear, he must be there. Driving, praying, parking, walking arm in arm through the doors where he will get the help, to feel like himself, complete. A doctor, a nurse, talking softly, a grandma, reaching out, you’re not alone, I am here, I love you unconditionally. Driving home, sorting out all the feelings, what I heard, and what I saw. He waits for a room that is familiar, he is lost but soon will be found. Returning home, the tears pour out like a dam that just burst, but through the sadness, there is hope. Hope for him and others facing the same obstacles. The evening continued, and thoughts of a young man filled with kindness and love occupied my mind with scenarios, beginning with what my eyes had seen, to a good life for him free of everything that chases his soul like, tag, you’re it. If love alone would be the cure, he would never have to take the ride.
Although I am optimistically cautious, I will never give up on a young man who means so much to me, or for anyone in the same situation. I believe in hope. And hope will see me through. We need to do more for our mentally ill men, women, teens, and children. It breaks my heart when I walk into a Behavior Managment area and see the number of patients. We need more resources, doctors, nurses, and caring groups that are willing to walk the walk. I am willing to do my part. Are you?
Once I was blind, but now I see. I see beautiful souls who need to know that they are important. They need to know that they are loved and are someone’s blessing. And from my heart, they need to know, that they are a real blessing to me.