Sunday, February 12, 2012

A Prayer for the Lost Ones

I'm watching the 54th Annual Grammy Awards. The hours between February 12th, and 13th are quickly closing...1 hour, 41 minutes, and an anniversary will be upon me which changed the course of my life forever, 2 years ago.

I am watching with more intent tonight than other years. I am usually quite bored by now, and am deciding to crawl into bed. But tonight, an incredible talent...a trail blazing pioneer for African American women...a superstar, an idol...a mother, and a daughter is being honoured.

Fair enough that a legend be honoured. Not unexpected for her to be recognized for her unmatched contributions to music and film. Celebrities love to honour each other for greatness and unparalleled skill...and even for overcoming unthinkable odds.

Whitney didn't overcome. Whitney, the breathtakingly beautiful, unrivaled voice of a generation...Whitney, the church choir songbird died alone in a hotel room in Hollywood. She brazenly taunted addiction for years, and last night, it devoured her...wholly, completely, and quietly.

I have heard varying commentaries on her death. From tears to indifference...and grief to anger, all emotions from one pole to the other have been expressed. I by no means think that people aren't entitled to their opinions, or their right to share them. But I will venture a guess, anyone with a calloused, hard, flippant comment or opinion hasn't ever loved and lost someone to addiction.

Addiction doesn't start out as such. It is a romancer of sorts. It often courts patiently, quietly and methodically. It fills a void. It whittles off the sharp edges, and it creates a need for habitual intimacy. It alienates and an abusive, controlling lover. It seeks to consume, with consumption. It doesn't care about your position in life...who you're married to, who your father is, or what your bank account is... it's completely out for itself...and it takes no prisoners. It lies and deludes...and it makes tragic memories of incredible, broken and stained people.

The lost ones. Wealthy and famous....nameless and penniless...they are the same. They fall into the same short life club. Addiction is not reserved for junkies or losers, freaks or screw ups. It finds all kinds of people...talented, charismatic, loved, compassionate people...mothers, fathers, daughters, sons...cousins, friends, nieces, nephews...people you know, and people you hear about. They share life with you...and if they don' me, they will, or they do so without your knowledge.

My prayer, for every addict, is for them to find compassion, and to find peace - inside of their life here on earth. I pray that their race from the demons that pursue them will be conquered...just one day at a time. I pray that they will find the answers...the why's to the unanswered questions of their pasts, and that they will live out life with purpose and healing. I pray that they will find support and strength...I pray that they find Hope.

Dum Spero Spiro ~ While I breathe, I Hope.

Hope will rise tomorrow...for the lost ones will find their way. And I'm going to be a part of it however I can.

Keeping my promises to you MB, always. xo

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