I Can See The Sun

1/19/09

Yesterday, I had a realization. I'm not sure if this is healthy or not, but it brings me peace right now...

I mourn for myself and my family. I have lost someone, therefore I weep. Those closest to me are sad, therefore I weep. I do not cry for the world, because I don't know the world. Wars rage on, whole nations suffer, and there is no respite. I do not hurt for the world. I am no saint.

I cry because I suffer personally. It is a self-centered feeling. But why do I suffer?

I suffer because my entire recent life has been devoted to being a father. Now, my oldest son is about to become a father, my middle son is about to become an adult, and I have no one left to call me daddy. No one to climb on my back for shoulder rides, no one for me to teach how to hit a ball, and no one to watch the clouds with me, finding dragons and sailboats floating over our world.

So, about that realization....

Most parents watch their children grow up and become adults. Their personalities develop, their commitments change with the times, and their attentions are slowly diverted away towards friends and families of their own. Though Joie and I will never experience that journey with Ian, we do share a gift with other parents who have lost young children.

Our relationship with Ian is now preserved. He will ALWAYS be our sweet little 9 year old. He will always play "Shave and a Hair Cut" with his dad before bedtime, and he will always snuggle with his mom and tell her how pretty she is.

When we remember him, we will remember those sweet moments of Ian's childhood, and we will always be parents to that little boy. To me, that is a gift, because--while I mourn the loss of Ian--I find that I do not mourn for Ian. Ian is at peace, and I have no doubt he is with his Lord now. That is all a parent could ever hope for.

But as a person, as an individual, centered on myself, I find that things I mourn for on my own behalf, are things I have not really lost at all.

I opened the blinds today, for the first time since Ian passed. Whether the weather reflects my mood, or my mood reflects the weather, or both go on, independent of the other, I notice a change. Today, for the first time in days, it is not overcast. Today, for the first time, in days, the clouds have lifted, if only for a few minutes.

Today, however briefly, I can see the sun