The Quiet Moments

The quiet moments, when driving home, he wanders into my thoughts quite stealthily.  The familiar emotions that have been carefully repressed start to percolate and bubble like a small spring of water that has lain covered then is suddenly laid bare.

I say his name, a stifled sob like mantra “Damien my sweet boy, where are you” over and over.

I walk my mind through the moments when I first realized he was missing and we had no idea why he wasn’t to be found, anywhere.   I re-visit all the moments in a jumbled fast forward and I see his face and feel his presence in my soul, an almost tangible connection to his being.  But I know he is not close.  He is not to be found.

He is gone, and we don’t know how.

Thoughts are jumbled and fleeting but the deep primal connection to my child lingers like a physical pain.  The tears that I never shed anymore come easily to taunt me as I struggle to keep them at bay. 

This happens almost daily on my way to work and on my way home.  The quiet time when I am alone.  Its fleeting but its real and its bitter sweet as I feel the wisp of a connection and just as quickly its gone. 

I take a deep breath, compose my head and I go to work.

Birthday June 21st.  He has been missing since 1996.  21 birthdays missed.....

We need to know what happened.  Police have sent him to a cold dusty shelf where he will be taken out once in awhile and reviewed.  We have nothing.  We just have intense feelings of loss and intense dismay and disillusionment as to how his case has been mishandled, incompetent officers promoted or retired leaving us without any avenue.

BUT HE IS STILL MISSING AND WE WONT STOP LOOKING AND WE WONT GO AWAY!

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