And travellers, now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms that move fantastically
To a discordant melody;
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever,
And laugh--but smile no more.

-Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849),
The Haunted Palace

I walked through the valley with him. Some nights I felt as though I was in the desert for the longest time while he sat at my bedside, simply pouring his heart out to me while my husband was in a deep, steady sleep since he was to awaken at 4:00 a.m.

These valley trips would start around 12:30 and not finish until 3:30 a.m., on a good night. he needed someone to talk to and during that time, he informed me I was his best friend. Hard to be a parent and a best friend at the same time, but for whatever reason and for however long he needed to me just *be there* for him, I was.

The object of his affection had broken up with him. This was not your typical break-up, however, and the more grueling details can be found here. There was much more to this veritable lake, it ran so deep the further I plunged into the waters with him, the colder it became. So many signs had been there for so long, I just didn't see them. Couldn't see them. (refused to see them?) There was a history of a certain type of illness on my ex-husband's side of the family, I knew that; but have it affect mine? No. no way.

Yes.
Way.

That was 8 months ago. He's been much better since about the middle of December: had a great doctor help pull him from the murky depths and prescribed some good medication that I, to this day, still ask him if he is being faithful in taking. What I didn't expect, however, is for someone, someone his superior, to find that Achilles heel and capitalize on it.

He had two vacation days off from the hospital since he began working there over 10 months ago - he left for up north to stay with my former husband and his family this past weekend and enjoyed some much-needed time away. New things on the horizon, good for him to get away to the Cape and clear his head.

What he never expected, however, was to return to work to something that not only embarrassed him, but dredged up some long-forgotten about feelings for someone who hurt him deeply...I mean, how could this woman know? How would she know where to even look for pictures or references or anything? He never spoke to her of his past, my Lord, she's 35. She's his manager...his superior. But she did the unthinkable: went to our website, found pics of him with his former girlfriend, printed them out and then plastered them all over his locker at work.

He was met with them the moment he walked in for his shift this morning – pictures from the prom, from graduation; happier times with someone he thought (in his mind and heart) he'd spend the rest of his life with, eventually. His manager was clever enough to strategically place pictures on the ceiling, even, just out of his reach. Just for effect.

Brilliant.

He was mortified, humiliated, crushingly hurt. How does one recover from this? Another valley trek - I will be there for him, whenever and whereever.

My question is: where is the experience of God is in all of this?

It's there, the experience of God. I will do whatever it takes to find it, but for now, I feel as though we plunged down so quickly into the depths again, I just want to come up for air without getting the bends.

One of my thankfuls? The voices are quiet. I can at least thank God for the little things like Ben's being faithful in dosing himself, save for this weekend when he left his meds at home. He's assured me he'll be back on them starting this evening...as upset as he was today, there is a calmness about him right now that helps me realize God is in it. He is right in the thick of it, carrying us through, helping us stay afloat, refusing to let us go deeper than we need to be.

I am thankful for that, too - I pray that Ben will find his God experience in all of this and that thought helps keep us (me?) from sinking.