It’s There, You Just Don’t Always See it
Bob Baugher, Ph.D.
Smiling, the fifty-ish couple approached our table
And asked me in their English accent,
“Are these seats taken?”
“No,” I replied, “have a seat. Welcome to TCF, Nashville.”
In a matter of minutes, we were chatting, laughing,
and learning a few things about one another.
It’s what always happens at a TCF conference.
They had traveled a great distance to find support.
And, arriving at TCF, they said they knew they were in the right place
At 8 the music began with powerful and moving words from the song,
Wind Beneath My Wings
A voice chimed in over the microphone,
“Welcome to the TCF banquet. I’m glad to be here, but I hate the reason why.”
The song continued, “Don’t you know that you’re my hero….”
At that moment I glanced over at the once-cheery couple
and was shocked to see strangers sitting in their seats.
Their faces were drawn with looks of utter dejection
Their helpless bodies slumped in despair.
This couple was, in a matter of seconds, propelled to the screaming reality
that brought them to this city, to this hotel room, to this table:
The death of their son.