Fond Farewells

Dear Son,

One of your best friends from high school died today.  His death was the result of illness.

I remember him as a quiet good natured young man with a ready laugh.  You and he went through some of your “goth” period together.  I don’t remember him dying his hair, but I remember making him turn a tee shirt wrong side out to wear in the house because I found it so offensive.  You and he would disappear to your room and the music would begin.

I hate this for his parents, his wife and for the child that must now grow up without him.   I hate this.

He had stayed here in his home town finding a job and making a life for himself near his family.  I remember him introducing his wife to me, telling me that they were expecting a baby.  It was outside the hospital in the parking lot.

It is so unfair.  All of this seems so unfair.   But I have not figured out exactly what fair is, if you really want to know.  You would probably laugh at me for even saying that.

Another friend of mine has miscarried the second time.  She and her husband have always wanted a child.  I don’t know what to say to her either.  They would be fabulous parents.

I don’t believe God is up there with his hands on the lever randomly opening trap doors for the hapless to fall through.   I don’t believe He made my friend a certain way to ensure difficulty in carrying a pregnancy to term.  I don’t think He intended to have your friend die, any more than He did you.

I don’t think I know God very well at all especially in light of what man teaches about Him.  The words that are said after unfortunate circumstances such as these happen diminish Him for me and make His very existence sound implausible.  Yet I know deep down in my most basic self that He does exist.

There are glimpses that I have had and confrontations that happen where I am humbled by what I recognize as pure love.   He is there.   But you know that.

We are here, left to experience the pain and the joy when it can be found.  Just about the time I think I have found something that makes some sense, it slips right through my fingers.

Funny how we think ourselves superior to the dogs and cats, rabbits and birds.  Somehow I envy their existence.  I don’t see them worrying.  What we call instinct seems their only protection and that appears to be hard-wired into them.

I visited your cousin and his family this weekend.  Some of his mannerisms remind me of you.   We do share familial traits.  He has a beautiful family.  There is so much love there.  There is a picture I have of you with his eldest, taken years ago right here in our kitchen.  You were smitten by her.  You and I  talked about his other three at times.  I wish you had had time to know them better too.  Did you ever even see his baby in person?  I can’t remember.  He is as precocious as the other three if not more so.

I am rambling.  I didn’t mean to.

I had a terrible day of missing you yesterday.   There is no predicting when that will happen.   I ache to talk to you and have a cup of tea.

I know you cannot miss what you did not have.  My longings are very telling of my relationship with you.   Was I wrong to let you have such a big piece of my heart?

I appreciate that you shared your friends with me.  Again, I am so sorry that someone else has lost their son.

I love you.



About pathfinder

Artist, Writer, Walking wounded.
This entry was posted in Death, Faith, Family, Friends and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Fond Farewells

  1. This reads like it came directly from your heart – unedited. Very moving.

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