The things that haunt me

I am not really afraid of the dark,
Of bumps heard in the night
It is things directed I did not do
that still give me a fright.

I think of impressions I have had
of things I need to do, still
they haunt me sleepless thru the night
Well, that’s me, but what ‘bout you?

It was years ago, my sister who lived in the mountains of Colorado, had lost two of her teen children in a motorcycle accident the year before. She was still beyond grief. That summer I had a distinct impression that I needed to move to Denver. I could do this, I thought. I was in a position where I could move, but really not prepared financially.

I got to Denver, put my things in storage and looked for a job, any sort of situation. Days passed, nothing presented itself. I was there, I knew that was where I was supposed to be, but how could I stay?

I remember sitting there in my van, facing a brick wall both literally and figuratively. I cried out, what do I do? I am here, but with no job and still no place to live? What do I do? I felt a gentle nudge to drive up to my sister’s place; she would take me. Yet, I did not want to be a burden on her, I did not quite feel comfortable with that, and she really was not in Denver. So, I did not follow through, left Denver and moved me and my stuff back to Utah.

I was shocked beyond belief when, on my birthday, after Christmas, one of her two remaining children, Christopher, committed bloody suicide in their home. He did it on my birthday. I would have been there, at my sister’s house, and being there could have, likely would have, preserved his life. That was where I was to be, guided there, yet I balked. It remains a lost blessing, more than that, a lost life. The ghost of a thought that haunts me to this day.

It is the things, directed, I did not do,
Kind words I did not say.
Those are the very things
that haunt me to this day.

How ‘bout you? That’s all I have to say.

—Terrel Davis, Manti