By the time I was my son’s age (21), I’d suffered pain in my spine and legs for nearly five years.
My dream of being a professional football player had died, and I was fighting a depression which would nearely cost me my life in a suicide attempt a year or so later.
By the time I was my daughter’s age (32), I’d had my first back surgery and lost my career as a locksmith.
Depression, chronic pain and anger haunted me daily, and I had no freaking clue how I would face the rest of my life with these bedfellows I so desperately loathed.
So far, neither of my amazing children have had pain issues, or suffered what my family calls “The Stroud Curse.”
This brings me joy beyond words, for my children are everything, my heart and soul.
My greatest prayer is that I continue to carry the entirety of the burden of pain for my family, and that this damnable curse dies with me.
May it be so, Lord, in Your mighty name.
Amen.
Broken People 