Jess,
I’m sitting at Sippie Hippie, listening to ‘The Scientist’ by Coldplay. Your songs keep coming on lately. Yesterday at Perc Place it was ‘Skinny Love’ by Bon Iver, then ‘Bubbly’ by Colbie Caillat, then ‘Complicated’ by Avril Lavigne. The day before, it was ‘Lucky’ by Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat at The Hub, and the day before that ‘Let It Be’ at Skinny Vic’s. What’s up Sweetie? Haven’t heard your songs for a long time.
Sippie Hippie didn’t exist thirteen years ago, when you were sleeping in on a Monday morning, taking a well-deserved rest after opening weekend of “Fiddler on The Roof” by the Hartford Players at the Schauer Arts Center. You’d love this place, just like you loved Perc.
I go to Perc Place, and all these coffee houses, regularly now, for staff meetings, board meetings, ally meetings, friendships. Always doing our work. Always trying to say yes to life, like you did, open to whatever happens, open to people. Always with you in the back – or front – of my mind. Wish I would’ve spent all these precious coffeehouse friendship hours with you when you were still here with us, instead of being so busy. You know I would have, had I known that Monday morning thirteen years ago today would be your last.
But Evil found its way into a young man’s mind, heart, and soul that morning, had him watch a snuff film, wait for me and mom to go to work, and then act out his fantasy to rape and kill. So, we lost our chance. No one’s promised tomorrow.
Good has used that horrible crime, that bottomless darkness, too, for its own purposes. I believe one of those purposes is to open eyes, mine and literally millions of other people’s. I thought what happened to you was one in a million, until it happened to you. You tried to tell me in life that it was more like one in three (females will experience sexual assault) or one in four (females will experience domestic violence) or three thousand (females killed by men in the USA every year). I heard you, but you had to show me in death for it to penetrate. Now, many hear you and understand this terrible truth. But many still don’t, especially us men, some don’t yet have ears to ear, or hearts to receive, like I didn’t. So, we’ll keep sharing your story. (In fact, we’ll share it here at Sippie Hippie in September.)
We’ll also keep sharing Good’s other purpose, the big one. Forgiveness. The doorway to real healing. The core solution to the mess Evil makes in the human mind, heart, and soul. The practical process that releases anger, resentments, bitterness, cynicism, and hate, and replaces them with Peace, Love, and Joy.
Thirteen years after you were stolen, Sweetie, we now have a foothold in two state prison systems to teach what I have come to believe you died for. Forgiveness. Forgiving the unforgivable. We must go to the source if we want to transform violence into peace, selfishness into selflessness, judgment into grace, and hate into love. I wish eight billion people everywhere would take The Forgiveness Class and make it a way of being, but it’s a start.
Meanwhile, I’ll keep going to coffeehouses, saying ‘yes’ to life, and waiting for one of your songs to come on, so I can pause the forward-focus and allow myself to be carried back in time for a minute. Back to the time you were still here, singing on stages, teaching music and life to kids, debating religion and politics passionately with friends, walking Mr. Milo around ‘the zone’ with me, and playing Zelda on your PlayStation while you and Kelly giggled. I’ll say a silent prayer of gratitude for your butterflies, and for the Forgiveness that changes everything. And I’ll keep holding that place in my heart that’s only for you.
See you on the other side of life Sweetie. Loving and remembering you always.
Dad.
