November 1, 2011 Pieta by Luis de Morales
I stood at my son’s grave today. It was eight years ago that he decided to end his life. We buried him on the hill up from the house where he grew up. I reminisced about all the times we went up there to fly kites and how he and Daryl set off rockets. It’s still just as beautiful here. The wind is wisping about and the sky is a rich blue but unable to tear away the wounded clouds in my heart.
“Do you know anymore why he died?” someone asked me. “No,” I said, “it’s still a mystery to me.” He and I had chatted that morning as we always did, he wanting to know “what’s up Mom?” and me saying, “Work as usual.” We exchanged our greetings and he ended with I love you Mom, and I said I love you Chad. Those were the last words I have heard.
“Do you know anymore why he died?” someone asked me. “No,” I said, “it’s still a mystery to me.” He and I had chatted that morning as we always did, he wanting to know “what’s up Mom?” and me saying, “Work as usual.” We exchanged our greetings and he ended with I love you Mom, and I said I love you Chad. Those were the last words I have heard.
Some folks say I am lucky to have that memory, but you know what, no memory is good enough. I want him here in the flesh, right beside me, with that mischievous smile of his and his warm tender touch! I don’t want memories! A number of people tell me that all things heal with time. That’s a crock of you know what! Some things don’t heal with time. They just burrow a little deeper in the soul.
As a pastor, I’ve often stood up under quite disconcerting circumstances and held it all together, being the good ministerial role to which I am wedded. Most days, it suits me well- the disciplines, the faith, the love, the walking along side folks. But today, I just need to grieve.
I’ve stopped telling folks at funerals that I am praying for them, unless they ask me to. Of course, I’m praying, of course I’m interceding on their behalf. But just what the heck are we praying for? I don’t want a cliché; I need a God that’s in on the details, the specifics, the wounds. That’s the God I know. So, I’ve started saying, “It hurts doesn’t it?” “Hard to believe he’s gone, isn’t it?” Or I say nothing at all.
Sometimes I have given folks a little print of the pieta. Now there’s something that speaks. Mary knew grief, Mary knew tears. She can relate to me.
And of course that’s not the whole story of today. My sisters both called me, friends on Facebook and my class from Drew acknowledged my pain, my husband blocked out time in his work day just for me. That’s the God I know – the God that has skin and a real voice and says, I am here for you.
One of my good friends Candy told me to tell stories and remember. That is good advice Candy. That warms my heart and at least gets me to stop crying for a while. At least for a little while………
As a pastor, I’ve often stood up under quite disconcerting circumstances and held it all together, being the good ministerial role to which I am wedded. Most days, it suits me well- the disciplines, the faith, the love, the walking along side folks. But today, I just need to grieve.
I’ve stopped telling folks at funerals that I am praying for them, unless they ask me to. Of course, I’m praying, of course I’m interceding on their behalf. But just what the heck are we praying for? I don’t want a cliché; I need a God that’s in on the details, the specifics, the wounds. That’s the God I know. So, I’ve started saying, “It hurts doesn’t it?” “Hard to believe he’s gone, isn’t it?” Or I say nothing at all.
Sometimes I have given folks a little print of the pieta. Now there’s something that speaks. Mary knew grief, Mary knew tears. She can relate to me.
And of course that’s not the whole story of today. My sisters both called me, friends on Facebook and my class from Drew acknowledged my pain, my husband blocked out time in his work day just for me. That’s the God I know – the God that has skin and a real voice and says, I am here for you.
One of my good friends Candy told me to tell stories and remember. That is good advice Candy. That warms my heart and at least gets me to stop crying for a while. At least for a little while………
