The Day Our Music Died
Weeping may stay for the night, but joy comes in the morning.
Moments seem insignificant.
Yet, in a moment, everything can change.
Everything.
When he was a toddler, Jake was a happy, huggy little carrot top. I remember drawing strength from his built-in joy, as we were going through the difficulty of a mother gone missing (by her own decision). But Jacob didn’t understand. I was there. He was there. It was ok. Mommy would be home soon.
A year later, there was a new mommy, and our family was once again whole, and before too long there were sisters, as well! Our little family grew in size and in happiness. We all had friends we loved and shared our lives with, and there was a great purpose we shared together. Jacob was the big brother, the only son, and often the family spokesman.
But there were scars in his young soul. His birth mother rejected him over and over. One of his friends physically abused him. We moved too often for our own good. Yet, through this, he maintained his self-appointed role as bodyguard/sibling-tormentor, and his smile and laughter didn’t diminish.
Then came junior high school in a new town. Jake and his sisters had the customary butterflies about attending a new school. The girls…
