I found this writing about his rage, and I miss his rage, his silliness, his love and caring. I miss it all, the boy of extremes.
It is titled Rage, September 2006, from his sixth grade writing journal.
Rage
I believe that rage is the most powerful inner source in the world. By inner source I mean strength that you draw from the soul, not the body. I have worked over the years to learn to harness my rage until I burst it loose.
I believe that someone with enough rage can fight even with an arrow in the gut or a sword in the stomach. I believe that a beginner is only a rage apprentice while someone who has studied for years, like me, is a rage lord.
I can scare my fourteen year old brother with the rage of a rage lord.
I believe everything I just wrote.
(I wonder what his teacher thought of this entry. The next page of the journal has a grade, and he got full points for his amount, use, thought, and presentation, 100%. Later in the year she did give him an award for having a unique sense of humor, which I think was after he had gotten in big trouble for comparing her to a whale, without bad intentions.)
Reading through his writings is good, and feels right, but it is quite difficult. He is sorely missed. I wonder where his creative energies, rage and compassion would have led him in life. I am sorry for him and the world for our loss. He has left a hole, a grief hole, not a rage hole in me. Maybe I can harness the energy and become a grief lord. :-)
Rebecca