The warmness of
the water doused me like torrential rain with every droplet relieving my sore
muscles. I was in my own world, ignoring the insignificance that surrounded me.
There were muffled voices beyond my shower curtain and I didn’t care. The water
felt awfully good after a long day of running, jumping, and getting my ass
thrashed on the football field.
I glanced at my
heavily wrapped ankle and it looked as if it were mummified.
“Shit, it hurts!” I grimaced as I
thought back at that hit made by a Pittsburgh
defensive lineman. That bastard’s hit
put me out for the rest of season, and now I’m uncertain if I have future with
the team I’ve been with for five years.
“Hey, Billings,” said one of my
teammates. “Wanna
go out with a few of us to the new strip club downtown?”
“Naw man, I’m good,” I yelled over the tepidness water of the shower.
“You sure?”
“Yeah… I’ll see y’allnext practice.”
I wasn’t in any
mood to see the same naked women grinding on my dick like they were hoping to
fuck me. Being number thirty-four with a two time world championship team
wasn’t easy. Wherever I went women clamored for my attention. It was as if I
was a walking Powerball ticket and my dick was the jackpot. I saw it all the
time with my old college teammates as well as a couple of my professional pro
ball teammates. Those women sprung their pussy traps, told them a lie that they
were on birth control, and got knocked up. I will say that I had a couple of
close calls, but I quickly wised up. Some of the fellas who were trapped still hadn’t learned.
I’m not saying I’m
a perfect man; rather I’m an imperfect man with mistakes longer than a football
field. I blew my money on dumb shit, screwed groupies, and partied every night.
That was my life before I met an incredible woman named Sophia Turner.
She and I hit it
off really well. We didn’t meet at a club or party. Out of all places we met at
church. I happened to have been visiting with another teammate at one of the
largest churches in the city, and after the choir sang their hearts out I
noticed a glorious vision of exquisiteness. Her smile was radiant and that was
coupled with her soft, curly hair that hung near her shoulders. I was more than
fascinated with her. My heart told me that someday she was going to be my wife,
and six months later we got engaged.
The locker room
was empty as I dried off my damp body near my locker. The television was left
on ESPN and one of the know-it-all analysts was dogging my coach out for our
team’s loss. I got tired of listening to that, grabbed the remote, and turned
to BET. Those assholes didn’t know what we did on or off the field. I could see
if he played the game, or hell, if he even played in high school I could
tolerate his opinion a little bit. Crazy thing was that motherfucker never
played in his life. He just wrote about it. Bullshit!
Then my fiancé
called my cell phone. I knew it was her from the Nicky Minaj ringtone that was
sounding from the speaker.
“Hey baby,” I
answered.
“Don’t forget
about my parents’ dinner party tonight.”
“I haven’t, baby.
I’ll meet you there by seven.”
“Alright then. I
love you.”
“I love you too,
Sofie,” I softly responded.
“Bye…”
The sweet sounds
of Sophia. Her voice was just as smooth and beautiful as her gorgeous face. I
haven’t fallen this hard in love in my life. There were other women since I
started my career as a pro-football player, but none of them compared to her.
As I said earlier, those women thought my dick was a jackpot hoping they’d get
pregnant so they could live off the child support for the next eighteen or
twenty something years. Fuck that! On the other hand for Sophia it took a
couple of weeks before she even spoke to me. “I don’t date pro athletes,” she
would say. I didn’t blame her. We tended to create our own bad reputations and
the Media didn’t help with the hype they blew on it either. After convincing
her I wasn’t bad a person we went on our first date, and from there we were
inseparable.
Suddenly, I
received another call but it wasn’t my fiancé. It was from my doctor’s office. Strange, I thought. Maybe he’s letting me know all went well with a series of blood tests,
especially the one that’s required by the state before Sophie and I get married.
“Mr. Billings,”
said the Nurse. “Could you stop by the office? Dr. McLauren needs to speak with
you about your test results.”
“Is it serious,” I
asked.
“You and the
doctor need to sit down and speak Mr. Billings.”
I ended the call
feeling like a sudden mystery was cast on my life. Is it my ankle? Is it an old injury to my hamstring? Or worse, do I
have my family curse, diabetes? As I kept trying to figure out the mystery
I looked at the mirror and put the last touches on my two-piece gray suit
ensemble, brushed my fade, and then slipped on my sunglasses. My six foot six
physique would be ready for dinner regardless of what my doctor told me.
Minutes later I
was riding in my white Denali listening to the
sounds of Drake booming from my surround sound speakers. Tapping my fingers on
the steering wheel, I bounced my head along with the lyrics. The phone call
still wasn’t fazing me. I was riding on the highest cloud in the sky and
looking forward to spending the evening with my future in-laws and Sofie. I
felt nothing could topple my joy, and I meant nothing.
I pulled up to the stoplight and saw my
picture on a city bus posing in the end zone after I scored a sixty-five yard
touchdown. I usually got depressed seeing myself in my glory days before my
ankle injury, but not this time! I was feeling too good to let anyone or
anything take me down.
I arrived at my doctor’s office pretty
quickly. I believed any human hated to step foot in a doctor’s office, clinic,
or hospital. I even hated when the team’s doctor had to examine my injuries.
There was something about the weird antiseptic smell or how the over friendly
nurses and their cold hands made you feel. Whatever it was I just wanted them
to tell me I have this diabetes thing
and give me my insulin so I could get to dinner. Time was wasting.
As for the
diabetes, I was sure I had it because it ran deep in my family. My mother had
it, my father had it, their parents’ both had it, and a brother had it. Plus,
as a kid I was told I had pre-diabetes so I knew it would’ve been inevitable
for me to get it in my mid-twenties.
“Mr. Billings,”
said the tall, blonde nurse. “Dr. McLauren is ready to see it you.”
I followed the
nurse down the long hallway to the doctor’s office while she tried to engage me
in some small talk. “Nice weather we’re having, isn’t it?” she asked. I
responded to her with “uhm hum” while
wishing she would shut up. I checked my Rolex for the time. “Here you go you,
Mr. Billings,” she politely said as she led me inside his office. It was a
spacious office that was big enough to hold a couch, a couple of chairs, and
coffee table. He also had a few of his degrees and a plasma television hanging
on the wall.
Five minutes and
then twenty minutes passed as I continued to sit impatiently for this man. ‘What is he doing,’ I wondered. ‘He was the one that one called me!’
While I waited I gazed out the window daydreaming about how in two Saturdays
from now it would be our wedding. I was anticipating my future wife walking
down the aisle in a breathtaking dress. I pictured my family sitting on one
side of the aisle and her family sitting on the other side brandishing smiles
while sharing our young wedded bliss. Imagining Sofie dressed like a princess
only made me realize I was doing the right thing by marrying her. Next to my
career I’d never been so sure about anything in my life.
“Mr. Billings,”
said Dr. McLauren as he came in the door holding what appeared to be my chart.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine…”
“Okay, let’s get
down to why I called you in.”
“Well, I know its
diabetes because I was diagnosed with having pre-diabetes when I was twelve. So
it is Type I or Type II?”
“Excuse me,” he
frowned. “Mr. Billings, you don’t diabetes.”
Then I got
nervous. If it isn’t sugar then what could it be? Sitting with my hands firmly
clasped to my thighs I felt my heart rate increase by the second. “Doctor, what
are my injuries,” I asked him.
“Mr. Billings,
your blood test came back positive. You have the Human Immunodeficiency Virus.”
“What? Human
Immunodeficiency…,” I gasped while being unable to finish. “Are you telling me
I have AIDS?”
“No, I’m telling
you have HIV.”
“This has to be a
mistake,” I demanded.
“I double and
triple checked the results, Mr. Billings. I’m sorry.”
“But my career…
Sofie… my life… this has to be some mistake,” I still demanded.
Dr. McLauren
pulled from his desk a small tablet to write prescriptions. “I’m going to
prescribe you this drug for the HIV, and it’s been proven to work very well.”
Tearing off the script and pushing it toward me his face had a mildly
compassionate expression.
I angrily looked
at it and then at him. I refused to accept I was HIV positive. There was no
way! For years before I met Sofie I tried to be careful with those gold digging
women by wearing condoms and pulling it out before I busted a nut. There was no
way in hell I could have HIV, no way! I quickly leaped from my seat without
taking his prescription and left without saying a word.
As big as I was I
let my warm tears fall and saturate my dark skin. I was scared out of my mind,
and it wasn’t a fear of dying or my career. It was a fear of losing my fiancé.
My hands were steadfast on the steering wheel and I was zipping in and out of
rush hour traffic. I wasn’t sure where I was going because my mind just wasn’t
there. My house was the last place I wanted to go. I could’ve caught that
bullshit in the comforts of my own bed during my promiscuous days, at one of my
teammates’ houses, or shit in the backseat of my SUV. It seemed wherever I went
the reminders stayed with me, and if this HIV thing was true it’d be a part of
me like hair on my head and the skin on my body.
I walked inside
the only destination I could think of during the moment. It was more than
appropriate, but a necessity. The only sound I could hear was my wingtip shoes
tapping on the linoleum floor and the echoing with each step. With light shining
through the stained glass windows I felt as though the man of this house had come during my worst
tribulation. I wanted to feel at ease but I couldn’t. It hurt deeper than a son
of a you know what! Most of all, I was scared of what the future might bring.
Strangely, I’d
never been in this church. I drove past this place on my way to the stadium and
always thought the architecture was amazing, but for some reason on my way to
sulk I was drawn to come here.
“Hello stranger,”
said the Priest.
I answered somberly, “Hi…”
“You look like you
lost a friend,” said the Priest. The red headed man wearing his traditional
attire sat beside me on the pew as if he knew my heart was heavy with misery.
“Are you okay,” he asked.
With more tears
falling down my face I slowly shook my head. “I don’t think you can pray this
one away,” I whimpered.
“Really,” he
asked. “Prayer goes a long way.”
“I wish it could,
but this…”
“Try me,” he said
as he interrupted my sentence.
I usually never confided
with strangers because of my celebrity, but since I was in the house of God and
Priests have to keep tight lips on confessions I decided to pour my heart out.
“Father?,” I questioned.
“Father
O’Loughin,” he said, as he extended his hand to shake my mine. “What can I do
for you my son?”
“I just found out
some horrible news.”
“Is it serious?”
“Yes, I was just
told thirty minutes ago that I have HIV.”
Father O’Loughin
exhaled the same shock as I did back at the doctor’s office. Like it had done
to me the news took his breath away leaving him momentarily speechless. He
stared at the huge cross on the floor behind the pulpit and softly sighed
again. “Wow,” he said.
“Is that all,” I
huffed. “Wow?”
“I’m sorry. I
don’t mean to sound insensitive, but after helping people with HIV and AIDS I’ve
grown accustom to it.”
“How do you help
them? Pray all day,” I sarcastically answered him.
He nervously
chuckled as the freckles on his cheeks flared with his smile. “Oh no,” he
replied. “If they don’t have a place to live I give them shelter. If they’re
hungry I feed them. If they’re in need of a place to worship I offer them a
place here. If they’re in need of a friend I become the friend they never had.
Most importantly, if their need is that one simple thing like prayer I’ll get
on my knees with them and pray hard as I can.”
I said my own wow as he continued to explain his
mission. Men and women of the cloth tend to help the less fortunate and only
few do it for the cameras. Father O’Loughin’s heart was bigger than just his
Priestly robes, the church, or himself in that matter. He was genuine.
Listening to him speak about the men, women, and children coming in and out of
his shelter at all hours of the day and night was compelling. I was impressed.
Telling me different stories of these people made me forget about my own HIV.
After the Father
finished explaining his experience he looked at me with his greenish-blue eyes
and said, “Now, tell me why I get the feeling there is more about the news you
received.”
I was sitting on
the pew timidly clenching my hands with sweat forming around my hairline.
Anyone could sense I was in an overwhelming state of fear. That was why it
wasn’t surprising that this stranger I met twenty minutes earlier could feel my
agony. The abundance of my anxiety had to have been felt throughout his church.
To answer his
question I glanced at him using my lingering tears to explain my dilemma.
Besides losing Sofie it was also about losing my career, the team, the fans,
and the media. My life would turn into a circus. Every move I made would be
scrutinized by the cameras, and worse my HIV would become the talk of analysts,
talk radio, and bloggers. “Another professional athlete screws up once again,”
they would say. I would become a part of the fallen pro ballers who society
blamed for everything wrong with world. I was more worried about what all of
this would do to Sophie. My tears said it all for me to the point where all I
had to say was, “So you see Father it’s not just the HIV, but the repercussions
thereafter.”
“I see… You are in
a dilemma,” said Father O’Loughin. “Let me ask you this. What’s more important
to you, your love for Sofie or your career?”
“What kind of
question is that man? Both, of course!”
“But what if you
have to choose?”
“If I lose Sofie I
have nothing. If I lose my career I’m nothing. Father, excuse my language, but
I’m screwed if I lose either.”
“Are you sure
about that? You never know until you try, Bryan.”
Then Father
O’Loughin left my side and shook my hand. “Good luck,” he said. As he walked
down the aisle he abruptly turned back to me with a peaceful smile. “You know
the shelter sure could use someone like you to maybe help run it.”
“Are you serious?,”
I exclaimed with a shake of my head.
“Why not? I think
you’re perfect for the job!”
I shrugged my
shoulders unsure of what to think of his offer. It would be great to help out
the community, but I would be admitting to the public that I had HIV and I
didn’t know if I could do that. I would be staring at reality in the faces of
men, women, and children affected with the devastating virus. I preferred to
crawl under a huge rock and hide from the world before I told anyone I was HIV
positive. So to the Father’s offer most likely the answer would be no, yet I
conveyed a friendly smile at him since his presence did soothe a hurt soul.
“I’ll think on it,” I told him.
“Please do Bryan. I really think
you’re the right man for the job because sooner or later I have to move on.”
“Don’t you have
anyone other than me?”
“Yes, but I’m not
happy with how it’s being run,” he answered. “Just think about it.”
Before I could
reply to his statement the Priest quickly left out the side door of the church
leaving the sound of the steel door closing with a strong thud. I was left
alone wondering if I should go to the dinner with Sofie and her parents. My
mood would be transparent and everyone in that room would know something was
wrong. At that moment as I stared at the cross I felt at peace as if a voice
inside of my heart said, it’s going to be
okay.
I later decided to attend the dinner and drove
to the location on the other side of town. It was a quaint restaurant with only
a few patrons. Sofie made sure of it. She reserved an outdoor private area that
sat on the roof of the building and overlooked the view of the city’s skyline.
The food and décor was all of her doing and it looked stunning.
I walked inside to
an amazing floral display on the tables, a strand of lights wrapped around
inanimate objects on the patio, and appetizers that sat meticulously on a
buffet table. Sofie looked remarkably
breathtaking in her sage, wrapped dress and her hair straightened smooth to her
collarbone.
“Baby,” she
shouted as she waved from a distance.
My fiancé’s thick
figure ran to me and laid one of the sweetest kisses on my lips. The warmth
sent blood rushing to places that would be deemed inappropriate for the
occasion. Her lips felt soft and juicy which made my news even harder to take.
“Mom and Dad,” she
said as she called for her parents to join us.
The more her
parents queried my future with their daughter the more I felt worthless. I
could provide for her and give her a good life, but my what-ifs had begun to swiftly kick in. If the HIV turned into full
blown AIDS yes she would be well provided, but I feared she would have to take
care of me in an inevitable feeble condition.
I cut the
conversation with her parents short by asking Sofie if we could be alone. By
the reaction of her mother and father I felt their suspicion. Her father raised
his eyebrow while her mother showed concern. Sofie nodded and followed me
inside to a private room across the hall.
“What is it?” she
asked.
“Before I tell you
this I just want you know how much I love you…”
“What? Did you
cheat me on me or something?”
“No, it’s nothing
like that!”
“Well, what is it
then, Bryan,”
she asked. “You’re scaring me.”
As I looked into
her beautiful brown eyes I realized once I told her about the HIV there was no
turning back, but the Priest was right. I had to be honest with the woman I
loved even if I were to lose her. At least my conscious would be clear of the
lies. I was looking at her remembering the day we met at that mega church six
months ago. I’ve never been at a loss for words but there she was taking my
breath away.
Then
tears ran down my cheeks as I tried to collect the right words to tell her.
“Baby, now you’re really scaring me,” she
said. “What’s going on?”
“Sofie, I got the
test results from my doctor.”
“What results?”
I lowered my head
to avoid eye contact while I firmly held her hands. Then I sighed to strum the
courage to pour the rest of the truth out of my lips. “Sofie, the test results
weren’t good,” I cried.
“You mean the HIV
test,” she cautiously asked.
“Yes, baby.”
“Are you saying
you’re HIV positive?”
Nodding my head
was all I could do. The words ‘yes I’m
HIV positive’ wouldn’t come out
and I guess my demeanor showed her the truth. The world I wanted to give her
was fading into darkness. While holding her hands I could feel her shaking as
she lowered her head.
“Oh my God,” she
gasped in shock. “You do realize we had sex a few times without condoms?”
I didn’t know what
else to say but to apologize. The mess I created was my own doing. I thought I
was extra careful when I had casual sex with those women, but there were times
I got lazy and didn’t wear a rubber. I thought pulling it out before I nutted
was enough to keep them from getting pregnant, and I may have succeeded with it
but I caught a Sexually Transmitted Disease that I have to live with for the
rest of my life and put the woman I love in jeopardy. Honestly, I understood if
she didn’t want me back. I messed everything up with my career, my future, and
my life with Sofie.
“Is sorry all you
can say to me,” she screamed. “I might be carrying HIV and all you can say is
sorry?” She then angrily bolted through the doors to the patio yelling, “Get
away from me, Bryan!”
I tried my best to
catch up with her and pleaded for her to give us another chance. “Baby, I love
you! Please don’t end what we have,” I cried.
“Because of your
nasty ways I might be carrying a death sentence,” she screamed.
I kept weeping
like a kid and apologizing for my irresponsible actions. I didn’t care if
lingering patrons in the restaurants had their eyes on our spat, our guests
were feeling uncomfortable, or her father’s body shielded me from getting close
to his daughter. All I wanted for her to know was how much I was sorry.
Immediately her
parents and family whisked Sofie from the patio screaming for me to get away.
“You’ve caused enough damage,” yelled her mother while her cousins pushed me
from my fiancé.
I continued crying
and yelling as loudly as I could, “Sofie, I love you! Please know that!”
Before I could say
another word her family rushed her downstairs and away from my sight. In an
instant I was left alone on the rooftop quietly and uncontrollably sobbing. “Oh
God, what have I done?” It was then that I realized I’d lost her forever.
Later that night I
finally made it my four bedroom condo. It was large in size but not roomy
enough for me at the time because the air was thick. I was lying on my bed
recounting the day’s events and wishing everything that happened could just be
rewound. The HIV was real and becoming a life changing experience. I went from
flying on cloud nine to rock bottom in one day.
Looking at my old
football jerseys neatly displayed on my wall, I could not help but to think of
the hard work I put in to make it to the pros. I thought about my high school
and collegiate careers where I broke records year after year and my pro career
as a twice awarded MVP. It was hard to let that all go. The fame and fortune
was mundane compared to those accolades.
Just then an epiphany came to me. I remembered
the Priest asked me what was more important. ‘Is it better to keep a lie safe from harm or suffer with the truth?’
After sifting through Father O’Loughin’s words I knew suffering was temporary
and a lie may be able to keep you safe, but it expanded into a lifetime of
pain. I was tired of hurting.
I was clinching my
cell phone wondering if I should make a life changing phone call. I even looked
through the rolodex of numbers gazing for this particular person. ‘If I do this,’ I wondered, ‘that’s it!’ This call could alter
everything I worked for. While sighing loudly I dialed his number. “Hello
Mike,” I said to my agent. “Yeah, we need to talk.”
Almost twenty-four
hours passed after I spoke to my agent. I told him the news of my HIV status
and that he needed to arrange a press conference for the following day. The
silence on his end of the phone was grim. Then after trying to convince me
there were other ways of going about my idea instead of calling the press, I
firmly said to him that was what I wanted. I also called an emergency meeting
with the team’s owner, the coaches, and my teammates. It was hard talking to
them for an hour and explaining how I found out about the HIV. Surprisingly,
they were all supportive and understood what had to be done. Along with my
agent, my parents, and the whole team I stood strong during the press
conference.
Later I sat on the
steps outside of the same church I was at the night before. Dressed simply in
jeans and a t-shirt I sat with my hands together resting on my legs and looked
to the emptiness of the night sky that had only a partial moon staring back at
me. ‘God what am I going to do now,’
I wondered. While watching the bumper to bumper traffic I wondered why I
returned here. I’m not a Catholic or a religious person. I was just a simple
man that made mistakes and tried his best to learn from them. Before I
discovered the HIV I prayed when it was convenient for me. Since the last
twenty-four hour’s I was scared to pray. It felt as though I was undeserving to
speak to God. He may have blessed me with things but I showed a lack of
gratitude to what he did to get me to where I am today. I just didn’t know what
I was going to do.
“Bryan,” said a woman’s voice from a distance.
I turned to see Sofie standing a few feet away from the church’s stairs. She
was wearing her favorite black, velour sweat suit with her hair tied back in
ponytail. She approached me as she held her purse on her shoulder. “Bryan, I saw you on the
news,” she said. “Why?”
“How did you know
I’d be here,” I asked her.
“I saw you sitting
here on my way back home and I had this feeling that I needed to turn around,”
she answered. “But again Bryan,
why?”
“I had to, Sofie.”
“But retiring from
football?”
“There was no
other way.”
She graced me with
her presence by sitting next to me on the concrete steps. I wanted so badly to
feel her skin on mine but understood it might to be too soon to show affection.
“I got my results this afternoon,” she said.
“Well…,” I asked.
“I’m negative,”
she said as she smiled.
The relief of her
uttering those two words lifted a colossal burden from my conscious. I deserved
to walk my living days with HIV, but not Sofie because she was innocent. For
six months she had been good to me, even at times I was not worthy of it. That
was why I loved her so much. She wasn’t like any woman I’d ever dated. Sofie
had a one of a kind soul. Her thoughtfulness, caring nature, and strong
mindedness were the biggest reasons why I fell in love with her. Everything
else was just an added bonus.
Then she leaned
her head on my shoulder and told me she wasn’t out of the woods because she had
to go back in a few months and get tested again.
“Look Bryan,” she said. “I can’t
marry you right now but that doesn’t mean I can stop loving you.”
“You mean it
baby,” I said as my voice began to break.
“Yes, I do love
you. And I’ll always be here for you.”
“What about your
family?”
“If they love me
they’ll come around,” she said.
She took my hand,
squeezed it gently, and the smile that I wondered would ever return came back.
“What are you doing here anyway,” she continued, “I didn’t know you’re
Catholic.”
“I’m not,” I
answered. “But this is the place where I’m starting a new career.”
“New career?”
“Come on,” I said
as I grabbed her hand and led her inside the church. “I hope he’s here.”
“You hope who’s
here?”
“Father
O’Loughin.”
The church’s
sanctuary was still empty like it was yesterday. I glanced around the
surroundings to find the red headed Priest and tell him I wanted to take him up
on his offer. My life was beginning to feel complete with wholeness beyond
riches or fame. Even though I had this virus I felt it brought out the purpose
of what I was meant to do. I wanted to help those who weren’t fortunate enough
to have money for healthcare to treat their HIV, didn’t have a place to live,
or just needed a friend. For those twenty-four hours I felt what lonely really
was and I didn’t want anyone to feel like that. I meant no one.
While I looked
around for Father O’Loughin a nun walked past us wearing her traditional
attire. “Excuse me Sister, I’m trying to find a Priest I met here last night,”
I said. “He’s average height with red hair and freckles.”
The Nun looked at me like I offended her with
my question and frowned. “Is this some kind of joke?” she asked.
“Uh, no,” I
cautiously answered. “I’m referring to Father O’Loughin.”
“Father O’Loughin?”
she questioned. The Nun asked us if we could follow her around the corner to a
hallway where large photos hung of all of the Priests who worked for the
church. “You’re not referring to this person are you?” she asked as she pointed
at Father O’Loughin’s picture.
“Yes, that’s him,”
I happily exclaimed. “Do you know where I can find him?”
Then she suddenly
looked at me again as if I lost my mind. “My child, Father was killed several
years ago by a homeless person who came to his shelter,” she explained. “The
man wasn’t a stranger because he too had AIDS. Father O’Loughin did everything
he could for him. Then one day Father caught him stealing from the shelter, and
just like that he senselessly stabbed Father to death.”
The nun sighed and
continued, “But the shelter hasn’t been the same since. It’s been hard to keep
an honest and brave person to run it. I pray for that person to come someday.”
After she explained the mystery of Father O’Loughin she excused herself and
went back to her business in the church.
Sofie and I gazed
at one another in astonishment. “Who was
the person I spoke to for an hour in this church,’ I wondered. “It had to have been Father O’Loughin. Was it
possible that man’s spirit brought me here and chose me to finish his mission?
When he spoke to me it seemed as though he knew I was going to make a life
changing decision. All he was doing was waiting for me to take a step forward.’
“Baby,
are you okay,” asked Sofie as I held her to my side.
I
looked down at her grinning and then looked at the Father’s photograph. “Don’t
worry Father O’Loughin, I’ll run the mission for you,” I said.
Regardless
of the HIV I feel positively reassured for the future. Sometimes we can’t
understand why things happen to us, and maybe it’s meant for us not to
understand but to learn from it to help others. Also after learning I have HIV
it actually didn’t cast a dark shadow on my once ostentatious life. Instead, it
shed a new awakening for my concrete intention on this earth. Sofie isn’t
kidding when she tells me all the time ‘God works in mysterious ways’ and you
know he certainly does.
©2011, Imani
Wisdom
