Date: Mon, 13 Dec 1999 14:00:10 EST
Subject: REV:  This Is My Prayer (1/1)
Source: revision
  
Classification: V
Keywords:       None  

Spoilers:       Through US5 
Summary:        A prayer from Margaret Scully for her daughter 
 
This Is My Prayer 
by Martha 
marthalgm@yahoo.com 
 
 
I part the drapes to watch her walk down the steps to her car.  I am   
afraid that I do not know this woman - I do not know who she has   
become these last few days.  The profound sadness in her behavior can   
not be covered up with our small talk over tea, and she refuses to   
speculate about her own future and will not discuss what may happen to   
her partner.  This is not the Dana that I know. 
 
Dear God: 
 
Where has my daughter gone? 
 
She used to love her job;  she told me so many times.  Although I   
worried about the dangers she would face and focused more on the loss   
of her call to medicine, I tried to hide it from her, because she so   
wanted this to work out. 
 
I have seen my daughter at her best and at her worst.  I can not   
remember a time when I have seen her spirit as defeated as it is now.    
And it scares the hell out of me. 
 
She appeared lost after the death of her father, and I am afraid that   
I was of no help at that time.  There was always a need in her to do   
the right thing by us, to make us proud of her.  Her father, in his   
own way, tried to show her that he loved her and respected her career   
choice.  But there was that wall there, that line that develops   
between military men and their families, that is not crossed lest they   
should appear somewhat weak and vulnerable.  She knew that her father   
loved her and that it was unconditional, but she wanted to hear those   
words from him.  Through time, she told me later, she knew that those   
words, those sentiments, could be found in her father's love and care   
for her.  And she discovered herself again. 
 
She was lost to us for nearly three months.  Her partner went frantic   
at the time but never gave up the hope of finding her.  He believed   
that Dana was still out there, somewhere, like his sister.  While I   
had resigned myself to her fate, he said that it was not yet time.    
When she was miraculously returned, he was the one who demanded the   
answers to questions that I dared not ask.  She was home;  that was   
all I needed to know.  And when her medical condition lapsed to that   
danger point, and we turned her over to Your care, it was he who was   
tempted by the Devil into acts of revenge on behalf of my daughter.    
Was it his repentance that saved her?  Or our willing of our trust   
over to her wishes and to You?  She rejoined us, renewed in the trust   
of her partnership.  And found herself again.        
 
I have seen her frightened and confused.  Fox came looking for her   
here when she became convinced that everyone else had turned against   
her.  Had she returned to the only place that she felt safe?  Was she   
reaching out to me, as her mother, knowing that I would protect her?    
Or had she come to the only neutral ground that she knew, to wait for   
the partner that she knew would come, to once again prove his loyalty,   
to save her life while risking his own?         
 
I have seen my daughter dying from cancer.  I saw her deny it,   
confront it, and then come to terms with it.  She had the final say in   
her last treatment - one that was proposed by her partner.  Was it the   
last-ditch medical effort or intervention on Your part that sent her   
disease into remission?  I would like to believe that it was a part of   
both, but my heart tells me that the sacrifices of the partner for my   
daughter and her determination to live played a large part in her   
recovery.   
 
My daughter has lost a child.  Not one that she bore and nurtured for   
years but that did not preclude her deep love for the child nor lessen   
the pain of separation in these last months.  In some ways, I believe   
that her pain may have been greater than that of mine when I lost   
Melissa.  I, at least, had a chance with my oldest daughter.  I got to   
see her grow up and mature into her own person.  I at least had that.    
Dana will only have questions -  How would Emily have done in school?    
What kind of person would she have become?  And the more disturbing   
questions - Why was she born, and why had she died?  Sometimes, the   
not knowing and the what-would-have-beens haunt us more. 
   
I have seen her question her faith.  In her God, in her parents, in   
herself.  But she always had her career, her work with Fox, to latch   
on to and pull herself out of any mire.  Her faith in her partner and   
their work may have been stronger than her collective faith in the   
rest of us.  What will happen to her, now that the work and the   
partner may be separated from her?  
 
I feel that I have continually failed her.  Not in thought or deed or   
lack of support.  There may have been a time when I was as important   
to her as her partner now seems to be.  I can not be the center of her   
focus right now.  I have taught her well.  I so want to gather her up   
in my arms and try to make it all right, but I know that it would not   
be the answer that she is looking for.  There is not much that I can   
do for Dana right now, but I refuse to sit on the sidelines and wait   
for the situation to get better. 
 
I want the little girl who fearlessly followed her brothers through   
the woods to play war games and refused to play dead for pretend.  I   
want her to fight against all those who would declare her career null   
and void.       
 
I want the young woman who decided to tackle head-on the difficult and   
demanding field of medicine and science.  I want that determination to   
shine, to light a path for the days ahead of her. 
 
I want the daughter who, despite her parents' reservations, entered   
the world of the FBI and carved a niche out for herself.  For her to   
gather her strength and stand her ground against all who would deter   
her career path. 
 
I want the woman who placed her faith in her partner and received   
equal compensation in return.  She has lost her hope and is in danger   
of drifting away from us.  Being pulled by disappointment and   
distrust.  Being alone. 
 
She is driving away from the house now, and I am being selfish with my   
wishes.  I want her to turn around and tell me that she will work all   
of this out.  I want her to stop this destructive journey.  Damn it, I   
want my baby girl back. 
 
Dear God, please help her find her way back. 
 
end