It has been just over a week since dad died, and I am struggling to put his life, our relationship, and his role in my life into some kind of perspective. To be honest, I am not sure that I am having any success. Every time I try to put words on paper or screen my mind goes blank, despite my heart being full. My father is dead. My mother is gone too. Those who rooted and shaped me, anchored and held me from a time before birth are gone.
They are not here, and I am.
I now live a long way from my childhood home, both literally and figuratively. And there are moments that I feel like a lost, little boy. Right now, I do.
This afternoon I took a drive for a few moments. I found myself in one of this area's cemeteries. I've done a lot of committal services there. I remember some of these residents. I think about dad's new home, the place he has wanted to be for the last several years, with Mom. And though part of me is glad for him, and part of me is relieved for myself and for my brothers, I am alone.
I know this will pass. It has before. It has for others. But for now, my dad isn't here, and I am.
I just finished reading "A Circle of Quiet" by Madeleine L'Engle. Her closing paragraphs:
"Gregory of Nyssa points out that Moses's vision of God began with the light, with the visible burning bush, the bush which was bright with fire and was not consumed; but after-wards, God spoke to him in a cloud. after the glory which could be seen with human eyes, he began to see the glory which is beyond and after light.
The shadows are deepening all around us. Now is the time when we must begin to see our world and ourselves in a different way."
I want eyes to see what lies beyond and after, not for him, but for me.
Seeking Grace - Kent Douglas
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