A few years ago, I read an article of an aging father who committed suicide, after turning the gun on his intellectually disabled, adult-son. The article described the father’s deep love for his child and how he cared for him. Neighbors attested to this love and shared how they would see the two together, either driving in the car or shopping in a store.
“Then what caused this horrific tragedy?” I asked myself.
Well, investigators learned that the father who was in his 70’s, was concerned about the care of his son, when he would die.
When I read this part of the article, a deep feeling of sadness filled me. It was impossible for me to pass judgment or condemn the father. My heart could only feel sympathy.
Of course, I’m not aware of the thoughts or struggles that plagued this man, I can only imagine, his fears. The anguish of not knowing what to do with his child and not trusting that someone would care for him as he did. This I completely understand.
Although Nate is living in a residential facility, it has not settled my heart with the questions of Nate’s well-being. I constantly think, about my son’s life when I pass away.
I have to hold back my tears and the thoughts of someone not treating him right, harming him, or him not receiving visitors. I don’t want to imagine that my son will be alone and I am no longer here to advocate for him.
So, I pray.
I pray for my son, my thoughts and my heart.
I pray that my child will be well and that God will protect and care for him, long after I am gone.