I Don't Know How...

I managed to get myself out of the bed this morning... I looked like hell, but with a quick shower, I was off to work. I'm so thankful for this break. It's been another very difficult day. A young man was brought into the emergency room last night beaten badly, the apparent victim of a hate crime. He died this morning due to internal bleeding that couldn't be stopped. I had to leave after that. It hit too close to home, hurt too badly to face. His name was Bobby Dean, and he was our best friend. In 2001, Susan got a call from his father, telling her Bobby had died in his sleep in Asheville. Bullshit. Healthy twenty-four year old men just don't die in their sleep. At his funeral, it was apparent he had been beaten badly. Every finger had been broken, and his face, black and blue beneath the layers of badly applied funeral home makeup.

We didn't find out the truth of how Bobby died until after the funeral. His friend Chip, was the last person who had spoken with him. Bobby was in the wrong part of town, trying to pick up someone else's man. He called Chip in a panic, saying that a call full of men were chasing him. That's the last thing he said. Bobby's car was found abandonded the next morning, his wallet missing, and his treasured gold rings- gone. He died alone in Asheville. Where, we don't know? His parents, embarassed of his lifestyle, refused to push the issue, insisting he died in his sleep. A murderer walks free, and Bobby lies in a deep grave, a precious life cut short due to hate.

Why can't we just accept people for who they are? Why do we have to look at others who are different from us through the judgemental eyes? Compassion, love, forgivness, where is it today?

Time to go back... I only pray this young man's family will do the right thing, that she'll not let her son's death be in vain...

This has proven to me, everyone is in our lives for a reason. Each person leaves an imprint inside of us. Bobby was a dear friend, but only for a "season". He'll live in our hearts forever.