a thousand no's shall not prevail

Another 18 emails. Another 14 phone messages. I cried on the message machine. So hard I couldn't even get out my phone number. But, then, it doesn't matter because after all my emails and previous phone messages, I'm pretty sure they have my phone number already. "Please, my son is a 5 year old non-verbal boy trapped inside himself because no one knows how to unlock him (from himself). Please, help me. Please respond. Please call me back." And then, silently to myself, as I hung up, "you don't know him. You don't know what I know. He is beautiful. He is funny - so funny. He is passionate. He knows how to love. He smiles because there is joy inside of him that he shares with only himself because he doesn't know how to tell us what makes his heart sing. Oh, he tries... and we sometimes understand. He cries because he's sometimes forgotten in the chaos of life and his feelings are sometimes not taken into consideration because... well, he can't express them the way the rest of us can. He gets angry and we all suffer because we know he's angry but it's his hurt/frustration alone - so alone. He has conversations with Devany, in the barn, and it's obvious that they speak a language that none of us understand, but that they both deeply understand. Maybe, (how constantly, fervently I pray) maybe she will help unlock this Lochlan, this man without words to find his voice (whatever it may be)."

A thousand no's shall not prevail. I will keep fighting. Lochlan, you are never truly alone.

In those wee hours of the morning, I lie in bed and think of you. My fears often pose a sinister threat to my hopes/dreams for you and for the life I know (in my heart) that you are to have and the person you can be. My dear boy, fear shall not prevail. Hope will propel us forward and faith will guide us through the darkness we seem to walk ever forward in. We will keep walking forward.