A Beacon of Light

Based on true events. A journey of discovery. A dark time in my life, but I found the light. Dedicated to a true, dear friend of mine that helped me when no one else would. The only person to see 'me' for who I really am.

 

A beacon of Light when the darkness threatened my world…

          

What started my journey on the path of discovery? It was quite simple actually. It was a very dark time in my life. I needed to find peace. I needed to find a light that could lead me from the dark. As always, I look for peace in a place quite different from most. I could never be considered conventional.

 

My journey for peace and self discovery actually begins in the past or rather it starts at the end. Oh bother, it begins at a grave… at my grandparents’ grave to be precise. My grandmother died when I was a young girl, seven years old. And even though I was so very young when she passed, my memories of her are still as vivid to me today as when I was seven. My grandfather later joined his beloved, 16 years later. Much to my heartache, see, I loved him and my grandmother very much. They were iconic to me, well, not just to me, to most of my rather large extended family.

 

It was a cold dreary winter day in a city just outside of Boston. I stood at the foot of their grave, lost and alone. Feeling much like the blustery New England weather, I felt cold inside, half dead, like the world around me. I needed to find peace from the storm that had become my life. The bitterness, the fear, the dark was all around me and I felt as though I was loosing my balance; about to slip into the darkness. I needed to find my center. I needed to find my balance. I needed to find peace, to quiet the noise in my brain. Clarity had only ever been found for me at one place, so that is where I went.

When I was little, I visited my grandparents every Sunday; I sometimes even got to spend the weekends with them. I loved spending time with my grandparents. I loved both of them equally, and would have rather stayed with them all the time had my parents let me. It was difficult when my grandmother passed. I was afraid I would never get to spend anytime with them again, but the visits didn’t stop they just changed. Instead of going to visit my grandmother at her house, we visited her at her grave. As a child it was not uncommon to see my brothers and me running and playing in the vacant lot across from my grandmother’s grave every Sunday. But as we got older, it became just my Dad and me who would go to visit her, to take care of her. It made me feel connected to her, even though she was dead. But slowly my visits too, dwindled from every Sunday to once a month, then once every couple of months. As for my grandfather, I still saw him. He came to visit a lot, but not as much as I had wanted. He was different yet, still the same. There was a loss that seemed to encircle him…a sadness that radiated from him. You could feel it; I often got overwhelmed by it. You knew by looking at him that there was something missing, that he wasn’t quite whole anymore. He tried to hide it; he tried to bury it, but it was there in his eyes. Such a sorrow you can never disguise. Those blue eyes of his could pierce your heart, could see the truth, and could show you such sadness when tears glistened in them. It often tore at my heart to see how much he suffered without her.

 

Before my grandfather had passed, I thought I had met the man I was supposed to spend my life with. I thought I had met the other half of my soul. I thought I found a love like they had, one that would survive the strain of time. My fiancée and I saw my grandfather the weekend before he passed away. He pulled my fiancée aside and made him promise to always take care of me. He made him promise that he would never hurt me, and that he would always treat me with respect. Little did we know the betrayal that was in store for me. In away, when my grandpa passed, I was happy for him. I knew he would be reunited with my grandmother. I knew, that even though I missed him horribly, that he was finally going to be happy again. So, once again, I began to visit every Sunday and yet again, my visits dwindled. My father faithfully went every Sunday, so I knew that they were being taken care of so I went about my life with little thought to visiting them.

 

It had been a year, since my grandfather joined my grandmother in death. In that time span, I had moved out of the state, moved back, broken up with my fiancée, got back together with him, got pregnant, broke up with my fiancée again, had a difficult pregnancy, had a very difficult delivery, but eventually had a beautiful perfect baby girl. I poured everything I had into that child. I didn’t have time for anyone or anything but her. I knew my grandparents understood, but I still regret that I hadn’t made the time to visit with them.

 

So, let’s skip ahead almost 10 years later. My two younger brothers are overseas fighting in a war that isn’t ours. Being shot and blown up because they’re Americans. My parents nearly loose their home to foreclosure. My daughter and I are in the midst of a custody battle. The father, my ex-fiancée, that didn’t want her in the first place, finally decided after 10 years that he wanted to step up and be the dad that she deserved. Of course, that was after he had agreed to us moving to Indiana and then changed his mind. He ripped our lives apart… again. Everything safe, everything secure that both my daughter and I had known was ripped away from us all on a whim of this fickle man who never knew if he wanted to be a father or not.

 

Our house was sold; our family was packed and ready to move. My daughter and I had become homeless in a span of a few hours. I had given up my job so I was jobless. All because of this man, one that I had loved, one that my family…including my grandfather had loved…the one who swore to my grandfather, a week before he died, that he would take care of me and never hurt me…well, hurt is not the word for what he had done to me, he nearly destroyed me. It turned out to be this man, whom I believed to have been the love of my life; ironically, was the destroyer of my dreams, of my world. He was the darkness that threatened my light. He wanted to destroy me and everything I held dear, and I almost let him. I almost let him win, because I was tired. I hadn’t the strength to battle him anymore. I was weak, and I needed to find strength. I needed to find away to defeat this man. I needed to find peace. So, one day after a particularly bad discouraging day at court, I left and I didn’t know if I were going to come back. I drove and I drove. I was on autopilot. I didn’t even realize where I was. The car was turned off, the keys were in my hand, the door was closed and locked, and I stood at the foot of their graves. Tears of anguish streamed down my checks. I didn’t know what else to do, where to go. I needed to find my balance. I need to find…me. The darkness was encircling me and I couldn’t find myself. I knew that I would be able to find myself here, with the only people to have loved me unconditionally.

 

I stood, my arms wrapped around myself, quietly crying my anger out at the foot of their grave. I imagined their arms encircling me, protecting me, not just from the weather, but from the entire world itself, protecting me from the darkness that I had invited into my life. I felt their strength flow into me…strength that I so desperately needed.

 

When all my tears were shed and my self pity session was over. I stood with my hand poised over the rough stone as the cold New England wind caressed my face. Many people find peace in a room, in a book, in another’s company. I find peace at my grandparents’ grave. I find peace in my memories of them, of their lives, and of their love.

 

I placed my hand, bare and cold, onto to their headstone as I have always done. I feel as though this simple act of flesh to stone connects our spirits together. When my warm hand touches their cold stone, we are once again connected, free to communicate through time, space, and even death. No, they don’t speak to me with words or with images. They speak to me through feelings and memories.

 

So, whenever I need peace and reassurance I trudge my wary body to their resting place. I place my worn hand on their weather beaten stone. I close my eyes, tune out the noise of the world, and I am transported back to a time of love, peace, and freedom that only childhood can offer. I find the tranquility that I need from a place of eternal peace. I once again find my balance.

 

It was at this great time of need that I went to them for guidance. In my mind’s eye, they waited for me with open arms. This was the lowest I have ever felt in my life. Darkness surrounded me at every turn. It was here that I asked them for help. Not just for the peace I found with them; not just for the strength that they give to me. And even though I already knew what the answer would be, I still asked for a hero to be sent to me, a person who would battle my war for me. I knew that they would send no hero to battle my war. This war was my own to wage. However, they did send me a light…someone to aid in my war, an angel who walks this Earth that I have the privilege to call my friend. Without her I would never have won my war. They sent me the one person in this world that has loved me for me, my best friend. She’s the only one who sees me when I am invisible. She stood by me when all others left me alone. Side by side she fought with me, picking me up when I would fall.

 

She never whined when I was on my knees, too weak to stand on my own. She would just reach down and pull me up and let me lean on her. She cried tears of anguish on my behalf as she held my broken, battered, exhausted body in her arms protecting me from the darkness that threatened my soul. She never protested when I drew from her well of strength so that I could battle my next battle. She became my beacon of light in the darkness...my lighthouse over choppy seas, my salvation. She is and shall always remain my best friend, my sister not of blood but of choosing. I can only hope that I can be the kind of friend to her that she is and always have been to me.

 

So, my journey of self discovery began at a grave at the darkest time in my life. What have I discovered, you ask? Well, I have discovered that darkness can never extinguish your light if you have been gifted a friend such as mine. So, long as you have a light in the dark, a friend to stand by your side, peace in your soul; you can weather any storm, battle any war, and come out the victor such as I have.

 

Reviews

[MagicHearted Knight]

This is simply the purest, most heart felt thing I has read in a long time. This is absolutly amazing. Kudos to you.

[Chaos]

OMG!!!

That is the sweetest and nicest thing anyone has ever said about me. I never thought I could affect someone that way. You say you're privileged? No! No! No!..

I didn't give you strength, I just cleared off the dust of self-doubt and placed a mirror to reveal the warrior that is and always has been; you. You are the strongest person I know and I'm grateful that your my friend and that you see me that way.

I read every line and I can still taste the tears on my lips as I watched helplessly as your heart broke, and broke over and over again with every set back. As sad as that may have been to witness, it was just as wonderful to see you find strength inside yourself enough to continue to fight for what you and your daughter needed.

You are the light for me. Not the other way around.

Everyone feels weak sometimes and that's normal, but what is not normal is our friendship. I never knew anyone who is as talented and gifted, supportive, kind, generous and funny as you. I am the one who is privileged my friend.

Thank you so much for looking at our friendship that way. I can't ever express how much it means.

I'm so proud of you!