Just A Nobody

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This blog was started to share the journey of what God has called me to do, serve our friends whithout homes. A long the way it has also become part of my journey as well.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

NOVEMBER 10, 1999

November 10, 1999 at 6:45 in the morning is the day a piece of my heart was ripped out and has never been replaced. They say time heals, but there are something’s in life that no amount of time can heal. Life goes on and you learn to deal with the pain, but it is always there. I now deal with my pain in private, alone in my room is when I break down cry, grieve and cry out to God for understanding. On that day nine years ago I received a phone call that my oldest son Franklin had passed away.

He was seventeen and three months away from his eighteenth birthday. How excited he was to be turning eighteen. He was your typical teenager and we had dealt with the typical teenage stuff. Perfect he was not, but I loved him with all my heart. Franklin did have a great compassion and heart for people though. He loved to make people happy and if there was someone in need, he wanted to help. I think sometimes about the person he may have become.

I remember him sitting in church one day and just crying over some pictures they were showing of children in other countries and is longing to help them. He told me that one day he was going to go to Africa to preach and help the children there. I tell people he was going to be my preacher and I wonder sometimes if that is what he would have done and were he would have gone. I think of how he would have loved to be in the park with us on Sunday’s, just loving on the people there. I think about him a lot when we are there in the park.

I have his violin lying in the corner of my room. I can remember him practicing at night after school and gritting my teeth at the sounds that would come from that violin. In amazement though, when he would sit and play with the orchestra, I would just cry at the beautiful music that was coming from that violin. I would give anything to hear those teeth gritting sounds again.

Out of all three of my boys, he was the one who talked about having a wife and kids. He would have been 26 almost 27 now and I wonder what kind of wife he would have had and if he would have had kids, he loved kids.

There is so much I could say about him, but right now I miss him. I sit here crying as I am typing and I so long to hold him again. I want so badly to say to him “I love you.” I want to be able to put my arms around him and hug him. I miss him so much and my heart still aches. I don’t understand why a life so young has to be taken away. I don’t understand how this fits into God’s plan. I know someday I will get all the answers, but until then it doesn’t make the pain any less.

As I went out to the cemetery yesterday and as I drove down the road, I new this is the road that I will one day make my final drive down as well. Even though I go and visit his grave, I know he is not there. I know that he is with our Lord and someday I will be reunited with him. One day I will be able to hold and hug him once again and one day I will be able to tell him face to face “I love him.”


Pam Hogeweide said...

i'm up late and about to get to bed, but i had to read this when i glanced over my google reader and saw that it was the anniversary of Franklin's passing.

What a wonderful tribute you have written here, Denie. Nine years. Time does not heal all wounds. Grief lessens, but it does not leave. I can only say this because of my losses in the summer of 07.


I love you my friend, and I am so glad I met Franklin so many, many years ago when he was a boy. It is a long time of waiting, but that is what it is, just waiting. One day, the hope of our faith tells us that we shall have that grand reunion with those who have gone ahead of us. This I believe, too.

{another hug!}

Ken said...


I can't imagine the pain you feel every day. I'm so sorry.

You have taken that massive bowl of sorrow that continually sloshes inside with each step and poured it out for your friends without houses. As it splashes onto (and into) them they find life and hope and future.

You could have enclosed and hidden in your pain-cave but you have chosen to love where no love existed before.

I love you

Denie said...

Pam and Ken..thank you so much for loving words. I love you both so vey much!


Anonymous said...

Just read this last night on myspace! So many tears! And then Pam and Ken's sweet comments too bring tears! Love you three so very much! Hugs!
Vivian Brocato