He paused and looked up, “I am not a good person”.
I smiled and said, something trite, like, “we all have our faults”.
“I killed someone,” he continued.
“What? I don’t believe you”, I said.
“You’re right, but I did the next worse thing a person can do to someone”, he said.
My mind was racing and I could not think of what that could be.
He continued, “I walked out on a woman who was going to have my child”.
In this time of quiet proximity he shared the story of how he was about to leave for medical school some thirty years ago and the woman he had been seeing reported she was pregnant. In a moment his planned life of becoming a doctor started to crumble. His reaction was to push aside what he had just heard, sever the relationship, and act as if those words had never been spoken. He left for medical school. He continued his life course as if the words were still floating in the air.
He did not share this news with anyone. No one. Not even his future wife. He bottled the news and buried it deep within for most of his life.
I could see that buried pain surfacing and had become bigger and almost larger than he. His face was lined with grief and his clear blue eyes often held back wet regret.
“It is the worse thing I have done in my life. Since my cowardly reaction, I have spent a fortune trying to repair this decision, but have not been able to find her and try to make things right.”
Weeks later I was rushing through the halls of the Atlanta airport trying to get to my flight when I heard the name of this woman announced over the airport intercom. I stopped dead in my tracks. It couldn’t be, could it? I strained to listen to the repeated message and again heard her name. I made a phone call and within a short time was able to connect my friend to this woman.
Soon a new course was created and he learned he was not the father. Both he and the mother were white and the baby was black. A little girl. The baby had been adopted out to a fine couple and had been raised in a good home in the South. This little girl was now married and even had children of her own.
What a coincidence to have him share this deep dark secret buried in his heart and then to hear the same woman’s name announced in a city neither of them had ever shared.
Some doors for healing get opened and resolved in ways we don't ever anticipate. Sometimes we need to share what is hurting and by doing this, a new seed is allowed to take root and creates a magical healing moment.
