It has been a
longer than usual day. Not that it has had more than its allotment of the basic
24 hours, just that the going has been slow and often tortuous.
Going
into the Holidays, it was expected that the days would be somewhat long,
bringing with them a sadder than usual feeling. The warrior face that everyone
expected to see would be present in all its regalia, belittling the feelings
that would be hiding behind it.
All
too true, the Holiday season is one which has often
brought up memories of years long past when my childhood family would be
together, celebrating these feasts in all splendor. The years, as they went by,
did their job to bring me around to the beginning of a new celebration; a
celebration of life to include my children and those around me.
I
came to find that my faith and beliefs were slowly strengthened and born anew;
no, I cannot truly say I belong to those who proclaim having been born again,
for I haven’t gone through that process. In fact, I am not sure I would know
what it would entail. Or that I would be worth the rebirth. Yes, I know, don’t
tell me… we are all worth it. This was just a manner of speech, a way to vent
feelings of inadequacy perhaps. He understands… why would you not?
This
year’s Holidays however, had an added burden to carry: the absence of the
presence of my son. There is not much anyone of us can do about this; there is
not much anyone could say or do, that would even begin to fill the void his
going created. I do believe that, by choice, this void cannot or will not be
filled in this life.
As
there is strength in life, so there is in death. There is the surviving
strength passed on by the person who has gone, that helps those of us who have
remained in this world to go on; to go beyond the loss and the longing and, in
moving forward, not allow the life of the departed to become a mockery. No one
has said this process is an easy one; anyone who has interred a child –no
matter how old he or she may be at the time- knows this is probably the deepest
hurt that one, as a parent, can feel. If the death occurs as a result of an
illness winning a final battle, there has been some time in which to try to
face the demons and acquire a degree of acceptance… not that it becomes easier, just better prepared. When the
death occurs as a result of an unexpected event, such as an accident, then it
is simply a freezing cold knife which suddenly slices the heart into small
pieces, each one pulsating on, clamoring and crying out in pain.
I
promised myself that these ravings of an on and off grieving father would not
find their way unto these posts; not anymore than they already have. But I
trust you; this trust is one which, without really knowing most of you, allows
me to write this and to actually publish it on the blog. There are many of you
now, many more than I envisioned at the beginning. Although most are in the US
This
New Year will see many folk continue to try and accomplish some of the goals
that have eluded us for some time. I know there are several for me. These have
been present for more than a decade; a decade which has brought its share of
disjointed living, at times making sure that we did not know, literally, which
end was up. But inside this time warp, there is the lingering knowledge that
these goals will be attained and that, perhaps, the death of Eric was a
painful, but needed step towards understanding exactly what needs to be done,
and why. The same can be said for the bout with cancer a couple of years ago; much was
learned then and much was learned now.
Life
goes on; every day and every minute is an important achievement. All we can do
is to live them, making every moment count and every goal an accomplished
achievement, even before it has actually become so. As the baseball movie
expressed: “If you build it (the park), they will come”… In other words:
Believe and it will come to pass.
I
believe… in life, in goals met and in goals yet to be met, in the people around
me, in the friendships that have helped me along these difficult times, in the
presence of my Father in my life, in every morning that brings a new dawn and a
new day to be lived and enjoyed; I believe in the raindrops that bring water,
and in the sun rays that dry them and give us warmth. I believe in the joy and laughter of
living and in the painful tears of living; they are part of our core self and allow us
to become and to grow; living and dying is the cycle of life itself and we must
accept and even welcome it. There is joy and peace in understanding this…
Smile
in your heart, for is this true smile the one which will lift your spirits…
That “warrior face” I alluded to in the beginning is just a mask which, in the
end, can’t hide anything more than what is seen at simple sight. What is inside
is what counts; accept, live on, receive life in joyfulness and let the healing
process begin.
Be
Well … Be Back!!!
Final Notes:
- Pray for those who are fighting an illness which
may take them away from their loved ones… Every request is heard, and
counts!!
- Follow us on Twitter … @RJAsPandora
- Any comments please send to otherboxp@yahoo.com
- Remember: We are “On Air” every Sunday night at
6:30pm EST (GT –5hrs). http://www.blogtalkradio.com/theotherbox If the link does not work, please just copy and paste
to your address bar.
- “La
Otra Caja de Pandora”… The
Spanish language Blog… “otracaja.blogspot.com”
… Bienvenidos!!!
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