The Pain verses The Promise

Ron Morrison, whose watercolor paintings are to die for, recently left a comment on the previous posting. In it he mentioned that Andrew’s passing must have been hard on me.I can’t begin to describe how hard this thing is, but I can describe pieces of it…

It is human nature I suppose to want to have some level of control in your life. If you have a bad marriage you get a divorce. If you hate your boss you find a new job. If you’re too fat you can go on a diet. If your hair turns gray you can color it.But when something like this happens you realize that you have no control what so ever on the most important thing in your life. I can’t change this thing one bit. Your cellular vision crystallizes and you immediately understand that nothing…NOTHING… in your earthly life is in your ultimate control.

I have picked my words carefully because I see now that you think you have control but in reality you only have influence. Sometimes you have enough influence to change things but you have no control.

Another part of it is regret. Thank the Lord my son and I had the relationship that we had so there are none of those terminal regrets like needing to apologize for something or needing to tell him I loved him. He knew how much I loved him and I knew how much he loved me.

But I have small absurd regrets…I regret I never made him a custard pie. I regret I never read the books he valued. I regret I didn’t make the mints he loved for Christmas just because I thought we already had enough stuff. I regret I didn’t send him more “goody” packages. I regret I didn’t call every single day just to say hi and I love you. I regret the times I let myself get too tired to enjoy his company to the fullest. I regret the things I nagged him about because in the end they didn’t matter.

What I think I did do right is that I always told him how much I loved him. I always told him he was the most important thing in my life. I always told him he could achieve any dream he had. I always pointed out how talented he was. I always told him how proud I was of him. These are the only things that really matter.

Hard on me? Yes. The worst pain and blackness I have ever known. I would not have been able to continue to live myself if I didn’t know that I would see him again. The thought of him being free of the asthma that killed him for all eternity, to think of his beautiful young face never growing old, never frowning, never crying…never ever again gasping for breath. Well, that right there is what makes it all bearable.We have each have with in us the promise of Heaven, when all things will be made right. I love my Lord and I trust his timing and his ways. He knew something about this that I didn’t and I trust that. This lifetime is less than a blink of an eye in comparison to eternity. I’ll have all of eternity to be with my son.

I will learn to make custard pies then.