Man of sorrows

DSCN1380Dear Son,

I am a broken record when it comes to thoughts of you.  They cycle around and around and always come back to the same hard place.   I’m doing it, your dad is doing it, your sister is doing it.  We roll along and hit that quarter space on the wheel that is missing and go off track.  Progress is not the word I would choose.   We move, but I am not sure in what direction.

When we used to go to the beach at Surf City we walked and picked up sharks teeth.  It always seemed to take a while to see the first sharks tooth and then suddenly I realized they were everywhere.  It was as if by seeing that shape once or twice they suddenly all came in to focus.

Apparently that is the way it is with everything.  Now it seems that all I see in the world around me is grief and sadness, loss and futility.   Doom and gloom – that’s me.

I know you experienced it during your life – the loneliness of being with other people.  Lack of connection.

For me it is a lack of joy, enthusiasm, energy, focus, direction,meaning, a flattening and fading of life.   It seems like all the pain and loss and grief have come to press their faces against my windows.  It is everywhere in this world and it takes too much work to tease out the joy anymore.

In Isaiah 53 – I always assumed the writer was talking about the coming Christ.  “Man of Sorrows” it says. One of the songs we sing says “man of sorrows, what a name for the son of God who came.”

It makes me wish I had no way of understanding that.

I can’t avoid the pain and sorrow, the grief and loss, so I wade around in it.

I watched “Call the Midwife” last night.  In the story a baby died soon after its delivery.  The midwife was called into question concerning the birth and the physician was to perform the inquiry.  In one scene the physician is at his desk being asked by one of the nuns at the hospital if he will stay for supper.  He says he must work on the report.

“Is there anything else I can get you Dr. Turner?” the nun asks.

“Some of your faith perhaps,” he replies. “Its at times like this, I wish I had one.”

“Its at times like this I wish it made a difference.” she states.

All my faith, sweetheart, every part of it that I thought would shore up my time here on earth makes no difference in any of this, except when I read again Isaiah 53.

I think you had greater faith than I.  Faith in the living of life without fear.  The overcoming of ignorance with knowledge, the faith of a man who trusts the gifts he has been given and the courage to use them.

Man of sorrows – I used to not know at all what that meant.  He saw and in seeing there was nothing to be hidden, nothing to spare him. No wonder no one was attracted to him.  He knew too much.

Sweetheart, the flowers are blooming on the pinnacle trail.   Your shared dogs, Asa and Sadie are here with us this week while your sister works in Florida.

It is in the simple times, quiet and mundane I miss you most.  It is not faith’s job to fill that gap.  It is not capable of making a difference.

If anything I have shed the guilt I have carried for not having enough faith to put this grief at bay.

It is not faith’s job.

Day piles on top of day.  At night in the dark I look out at that pine tree that I always thought had the shape of Tyrannosaurus Rex -another association with you.  I still hope that this is just a dream and that I will wake the next day and you will still be here.

I suspect I do still have a form of hope.  I hope so much things taught by people of faith are true and possible.   I want to see you again.   I miss you so much.  If that time is to be then we will have so much to talk about or maybe just time to be.




About pathfinder

Artist, Writer, Walking wounded.
This entry was posted in Coping with the Death of a Child, Dogs, Faith, Family, Friends and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Man of sorrows

  1. Paige Gant says:

    I love you, Pam.

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