This is my first effort at a blog …….. I’m resisting with all my might writing this …… but I have to!
My precious son was stabbed to death two months ago, on October 16, almost on the steps of the Portland, OR., Courthouse. We don’t know much at all except for the little the Detectives have shared, or what we can find online from the TV news or papers up there, (I’m 1,000 away in Los Angeles). The motive wasn’t robbery as his wallet was on him, but it seems he was killed for the thrill of it. Just an unbelievably tragic and senseless act against the most loving of sons!
When I was told Marc had been fatally stabbed, I was terror struck but mostly ….. I was numb or in disbelief!! My immediate reaction was to fly to Portland and cradle him in my arms and beseech God to raise him from the dead. Then I desperately called family/friends, pastors and ministries ….. I was going thru the motions of being a loving mom and committed Christian, but part of me was in denial. How did this happen to Marc, me, our family!
That night as I was reaching out to family and friends, I kept wondering, ‘Why do I have to make these calls!? I don’t want to do this, it’s hard! I’m not feeling any better!’ I’m not getting any real comfort. I don’t get it!
One prayer ministry had this older guy with this monotone, rote message for me and I was so angry with him, I said, ‘why aren’t you saying sorry, can’t you see my son was just murdered?’ I understood he was not one of their best prayer partners, as he had a real lack of compassion, he was just formal. But his lack of sympathy made me feel almost like the world was this cold, empty place. He just continued in the same manner I wanted to scream, and I felt bad but hung up! It was like insanity was staring me in the face.
Maybe it was at this stage I felt I heard a voice say, “Well, now life is going to be hell”! But then sometime later, when I was alone, I checked my inner spirit and sensed this strong, stabilizing force around me. It was God and He said, “I’m here, all will be well, trust me.” I really needed that assurance, that relief from the horror I was living thru!
I suppose it was shock that shielded me those first days, weeks so I wasn’t in total grief. Things didn’t seem ‘real’. With murder, it’s so sudden, so shocking, I felt I was flying by the seat of my pants! Just swept up by a tragedy, barely keeping it together and there were all these people, decisions taking me into this new stage of life. I had to fly 1,000 miles away to a city I barely knew to see Marc the final time.
No one knew any details about the attack other than some homeless guys did it. I just envisioned some ratty-haired, partly toothless older scum-bag type guy doing it. There seemed no sense to Marc’s death …. he wasn’t a violent person, didn’t own a weapon. He was so excited about starting a new job in a few days, and went to a concert the evening before. He never should have gone in that fashion! No parent wants her beloved child to die brutally. That is one of the most agonizing parts of this whole thing! His suffering!
Later that night, after making calls, my aching for Marc gave way to my crying out to him. I just started ‘talking’ to him! It was like water breaking thru a dam or something. What really happened is that I broke thru an old family tradition of relegating the dead to some silent, far away realm never to be heard from again! I suddenly realized Marc was very close!! It seemed almost like he never departed from this life on earth, and I said, “Marc, this isn’t the end! You and I are on a new adventure now, my life can never go back to what it was. I love you so much and I won’t desert you. For as long as it takes, I’ll work to make justice come out of this tragedy. Your mom will do good by you.”