Life's journey can be so different

Yesterday as I prepared to attend a funeral of yet another "once" missing person, I was reminded of a friend Susan Murphy Milano and her passing way to young from this world. I was tormented by many words we shared about partner violence and how love or the lack of love can spin out of control. Human's can be cruel she would always say; her education in this arena far exceeded mine as I am an advocate for missing persons and crimes that involve that sector. I found myself being very weighed down as I set off for the two hour drive.

Along the road what appeared to be normal people drove to their respected destinations and I had much time to think. I thought about the horrific day this family had ahead of them, I thought about my own life scars and people who cause them, but mostly I worried for her children, now growing up without a mother all in the name of a senseless violent crime. I realize that the evil things people do in life are from the need of "feeling" some sense of ownership. Yes, ownership or maybe better said they want to win. People feel like they have to win that friendship or partnership; why I really do not have the answer, but it does exist.

I speak of a woman from a small town, who lived a simple life, her name is Angie Pipkin and now those who might have never knew her name will read it on her headstone for many years to come. A small wooded patch of land snuggled of a country setting open for view to passing roadside traffic she was laid to rest peacefully. Their is something to be said about those left to grieve. I know in my heart healing is slow and acceptance can be one of life's most horrible tasting pills one is forced to swallow. I did not cry, all day I fought back tears for them, I needed to still remain their advocate, their strength and help ease their pain in whatever measure I could.

The service was very empowering, I particularly loved to hear personal stories from the pastor, you see, he knew her and he testified for Angie; she deserved that parting respect. I clung on to his words as he spoke about judgement of people and how it was wrong....yes wrong! I listened as he gave comforting words of the test God allows us to take and how we, time after time fail, fall, stumble and sometimes get hurt badly. I lingered in thought about how he explained of Angie and her fight for life and always wanting to do the right things but somethings and maybe even people had failed her. My heart broke as he witnessed her salvation, right their in that church, right their at the very spot he pointed to, you could see it if you cared enough to venture in his memories of her. He stated "she was the victim", no one had the right to kill her, no reason could ever be presented otherwise.

I needed someone else to say it out loud, someone not connected to the world of the missing, the missing who are judged so often for a life that becomes public for all to judge, your life's mistakes just tossed out their for all to see, a life not in control, a life not so perfect. I thought about perfect in the eyes of who? Who are they? "They" believe they are better educated, better in their career, better in obtaining things of this world? Yes, "they" those who think they can cast that first stone, and he went on to speak about that passage in the bible. I knew the ending of that story, however I think their were many who needed to hear it; at the end of the day their were no stones to cast, God said go and sin no more. I looked at the life size photos of Angie's gleaming smile, and the slide show that reflected her mother's pride and joyful moments....all captured in time and now will become memories left for her children to reflect on each time they need to feel their mother close to them. That thought, the one thought alone left room for anger to slip in.

In the travel to her resting place I followed a very long line of cars escorted by law enforcement, at each rural turn their were officers and blue lights flashing frantically stopping any on coming traffic. The public pulled to the side of the road as we all passed to show respect for the family. I was captured by the spirit of the officers standing outside their vehicles at every turn, hats off and hand laid proudly across ones chest. It was a moment of appreciation and respect. Most may not have noticed all the little details in place for her farewell, but I certainly did and felt grateful.

A bird flew overhead standing at the graveside, I again thought of my friend, Susan. You see Susan believed from the depths of her soul in helping those who became a victim of violence, she fought relentlessly for their rights and sought out safe places for them to run, even sometimes hide. This case was one she would have been all over, this case is the testimony for woman of how a violent relationship can and unfortunately will end, this case I pray will save a life in the future.

In the end, people gathered to view the most interesting and amazing site of Angie's volt that she would later be incased in, affixed was the length of the casket covered with a professional made adhesive displaying a collage of pictures of her life and loved ones, with scripture quotes, her name and dates, it was breath taking. Her mother stood with each person as they came to see, she was like a proud mom, her pain worn hard on her face, but she wanted everyone to speak of her daughter and cherish her memories for the last time. She stayed until the last person left. I cannot even image how she felt when she had to leave herself, I said a prayer of courage for her silently.

I'm driving home and it is late at night, I listen to music all the way home, unloading all of my thoughts as they identify with words of different songs, thinking of many journeys I have been on with total strangers, and how "Life's journey can be so different".

Monica Caison
5/31/2014