On January 11, 2003 my only child committed suicide. The suffocating darkness threatened to swallow me with him. How would I ever get through this? "Tell me what to do, give me a sign, show me a way out of this," I screamed over and over again to an empty house. Daily my pen would scribble of resources and gifts within me and the love and support all around me. I had a hard time believing it. My tightly held grief and fear did not want to let it in. The more I wrote, the more my pen persisted. So I ventured beyond the walls I was hiding behind to test these thoughts and words. This is the story of my journey from the dark void of fear back into the light of love, and of a pen that encouraged a new acceptance of myself and those around me--the answers to the desperate pleas I had cried out for.