“Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.”
Psalm 139:7-8
January 3, 2016: I spent the day in my pajamas, rarely leaving my rocking chair. My head was still in a fog. After a few texts, I spoke to my young friend’s sister in Vegas. “We have a room with a bed, but we just moved so we still have some boxes around the house.” By the grace of God and divine appointment, I had a place to stay.
January 4, 2016: My flight was in the afternoon, so I got up, read my Bible, and prayed. While I was on my knees talking to God, tears began to flow. I was surprised to find myself crying, really crying, for the first time. Then they stopped, as if the door of grief had slammed shut in front of me. The abrupt end was equally surprising. I finished getting ready and packing. I was uncertain about what to expect. My siblings and I were not close, and I did not know what they thought of me and I was nervous.
“I do not know what the week holds, but I know that You hold the week You have made this evident. I am so thankful that I can rest in your hands.” Written in my journal on the plane.
A few hours later, we landed in Vegas. We met for dinner at In and Out Burger and discussed the general schedule for the week, then separated for the night. When I arrived at my hosts’ home, they were preparing meals for the week with a couple of friends. We chatted until I couldn’t stay awake and I went to my room, where I found a welcome note and basket of gifts.
The next day, I learned that Dad’s roommate, Freddie, called my siblings before they arrived at their room. He was at a bar celebrating Dad’s life with some of Dad’s “friends” and he wanted them to join him. They drove to a desperate part of town. Val describes it as the kind of place “…where you… find either a cop… or addicts, dealers, and prostitutes. Nothing in between.” Freddie was inside the bar, buying drinks for everyone in memory of Roger. At one point, Val used the public restroom where she found drug paraphernalia on the bathroom counter. When exiting, she found one of Dad’s friends guarding the door to prevent people from entering while she was inside. They passed someone “shooting up” on the sidewalk when they left for the night. As they left the place in their rear-view mirror, the full understanding of where they had been began to sink in, but the greater significance of that night was not yet uncovered.
Photo provided by Val. Both sisters wanted the photo posted, but one preferred her face blurred for personal reason.
Words Lived 