Without a Word_ How a Boy's Unspoken Love Changed Everything - Jill Kelly [69]
Sleep eluded me, and food had no taste. Within two weeks I had lost twenty pounds. The bold green irises of my eyes were fading to gray. With each passing day the immensity of dread and desperation grew. It got to the point where, a few times, I felt as if I would literally die from suffocation. I spent hours balled up on the floor in my closet, praying with my face buried in my Bible. I prayed through our entire house and anointed every entrance with oil. As much as possible I played worship music and recited every Scripture I had ever memorized over and over.
The LORD himself goes before [me] and will be with [me]; he will never leave [me] nor forsake [me]. [I will] not be afraid; [I will] not be discouraged.
(Deuteronomy 31:8)
The LORD will keep [me] from all harm—he will watch over [my] life; the LORD will watch over [my] coming and going both now and forevermore.
(Psalm 121:7–8)
For he will command his angels concerning [me] to guard [me] in all [my] ways.
(Psalm 91:11)1
As my desolation continued to intensify, doubt hammered my faith. Every time I opened up the silverware drawer in our kitchen, I wanted to grab a knife. So I stayed out of the kitchen.
Whenever I was driving alone in the truck, it took all the strength I could muster to keep from slamming into a tree or the highway median. Eventually I was unable to drive or be alone. I had absolutely no control over the torrent of lies and fear stalking my mind, body, and spirit.
Some of my journal entries during the first month of this onslaught of depression might have easily put me in a straitjacket. This one shows how deep I had fallen, but thankfully, how great I still believed God was.
April 29, 2006—I’m going to die if You leave me here. My life is but a breath, but this is not life to me. I can’t drink this cup of suffering. I can’t bear the weight of this cross. I can’t live like this. Come quickly, Lord, and save me. I have no one but You, and yet You seem so distant. Have I allowed a mantle of doubt to hide me from the truth? I’m crushed in spirit. Search my heart. Save me. I have nothing if I don’t have You.
I knew my friends loved me and that they loved Hunter. But during the darkest months of mourning, some of the people closest to me said and did the most hurtful things. A few of my dearest friends made some suggestions they were convinced would help me in my grief: “Maybe you should consider taking down some of Hunter’s pictures. You wouldn’t want to make an idol or shrine out of them.”
They were just trying to help, but they didn’t understand. How could they? Would taking down pictures of Hunter really help me? If I packed away all the photographs, would the pieces of my heart start to mend? No. The pictures brought back wonderful memories. When I looked at them, I vividly remembered what we did that particular day and how I felt. As for making an “idol” out of Hunter, he was my son whom I loved and treasured. Keeping the photos where they could be seen and appreciated was a reminder to me of God’s goodness and love for our family.
To the left of my computer keyboard sat one of my favorite family photos. It was taken the day the Buffalo Bills retired Jim’s football jersey and placed his name on the Wall of Fame at Ralph Wilson Stadium. We are walking across the football field all dressed in red, white, and blue number 12 jerseys. The picture brings back all the sights, sounds, and feelings of that unforgettable day.
The stadium was jam-packed and the roar of the fans was electrifying. As Jim and I pushed Hunter’s wheelchair toward the middle of the football field where the podium stood, we could barely hear each other talk. Erin Marie was tucked in between us, and Camryn straddled my right hip. After Jim was honored, we were just about to walk off the stage when he leaned over, kissed Hunter on his forehead, and whispered, “I love you, little buddy.” I knew I’d never forget the tenderness of that