It all begins with one voice.

My spirit is low this week. It’s been a chaotic day, week, month, year. I have seen the very worst in humanity and it has snuffed out the light of the best in humanity. Ruth is someone’s daughter. My daughter. I am challenged beyond any stage of development thus far. What do you do when your teenager is once again an infant, relying on you for every means of survival. Relying on you to comfort her and provide her with a sense of peace and hope. But you cannot give it; you cannot provide any calm in the storm because the storm is beyond your control. You pray, but it doesn’t help like it used to. Even when God has not granted your supplications in the past, the actual process of prayer and meditation provided a sense of peace, like you were in a safe harbor while the storm raged around you. But now? Now the storm has destroyed the harbor and it is unrelenting in it’s ferocity. I am tired. My child is tired. So, what do we do? I give up and she dies. I keep marching forward and I collapse then she dies. What do you do? When days turn to months and then years, people fade. I have been guilty of that as well. I am worn. I am hopeless in my solitude, but I fake it so she sees hope in my acts of love. And love her I do, with every ounce of my being. My daughter, my Ruth.

My spirit is low this week. My child will see a specialist to discuss amputation above the knee on Thursday. I don’t have the ability to process this anymore. I am numb; so, I will leave that news hanging out their in the universe, hoping that by next week I have the energy to report more on it. I am numb.

My spirit is low this week. We got news that the drunk/drugged driver that nearly killed my child formally waived any claim. My child holds zero percent responsibility for the lunacy involved in the collision that nearly took her life on February 8th. At surface level this seems honorable; however, I know the back story. His passengers will get paid just to keep it out of court because juries are sympathetic toward children and he and his family filled his car with them. The rules of evidence won’t even allow the results of any investigations….the jury would not even know he was intoxicated. They would not even know the accident investigation. Lawyers reported to me that It just takes one jury member to feel sympathy toward one of the hurt children and grant 1% responsibility of millions and millions of hospital bills. I would lose all I have left to care for my child, my daughter, my Ruth. They were clever in threatening suit against me and my family instead of just attempting a claim. The result—they all get paid just to keep it out of court. They all agreed my child was zero percent responsible. Her only crime was existing in space and time that day. Where her body lay, the vultures gathered. The very person that placed the children in the car with the drunk/high defendant will likely receive about a quarter of a million dollars. The defendant calls this man Father. Siblings, cousins, restrained, unrestrained. The parents who placed their kids in danger and the offender himself picked at my child until there was no more. They offered to pray for my child and then came in for the kill. They will walk away with hundreds of thousands of dollars, while my child gets nothing. She didn’t even have enough time to scream before her life was destroyed that day. Now she screams all day long.

My spirit is low this week. Not just because of the unrelenting devastation, but also because I cannot even stop it from happening to you. Lawmakers have not even returned my calls, responded to my letters, expressed any indication that they know who my child is, my daughter, my Ruth. I am begging. If there is anyone out there who will hear me. The law needs to change. Please, take up this mantle. Be our voice. It takes many. They do not hear one. For information on just making one call visit: https://www.friendsofruth.com/call