I parked across the street from the cemetery. I crossed the street to one of the many entrances into the gated land. I walked slowly, without pattern. Spoke no words. Tears filled my eyes and streamed down my face. Gazed upon the stones with words of men and woman who have passed on and dates of their existence.
I wanted to sit against a tree for a long period of time to read and meditate but I felt as though there was so much more to see and feel while being there. I sat for a little while, got up and read as I walked. I did not fumble over my feet nor did I trip. I walked smoothly along the given path and even went on an adventure off the road. While the tears were sliding down my face, the only thoughts I had were about the man I had lost almost a year ago come October. He was a wonderful man. I will call him M. M. and I were as close as a father and his daughter. He was my second dad. We talked for a couple hours each day that went by for three years. Then, one day, an unexpected tragedy happened. He was killed. I do not know how much more I can write about this hard thing that happened because I am starting to not be able to see the keys. But M. is with his Father, his Creator, in a marvelous place. Heaven. I will see him again one day. I look forward to that day because I miss him so much it hurts.
C.S. Lewis writes, "Feelings, and feelings, and feelings. Let me try thinking instead. From the rational point of view, what new factor does H.'s death introduced into the problem of the universe? What grounds has it given me for doubting all that I believe? I knew already that these things, and worse, happened daily...We were even told, 'Blessed are they that mourn,' and I accepted it...Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not in imagination (Pgs 36,37). I know exactly what he means. I feel it everyday. When it happened I couldn't breath. It was as if something surreal was happening, but not to me, not in my life. For so long after, I kept saying ,"Come back," (Pg 41). But I know that this something did not just go over my Father's head. I had to accept that He allowed it to happen.
M. had a son named Mark, he was a dear, dear friend of mine for a long time. When his father died I said over and over, "If only I could bear it, or the worst of it, or any of it, instead of her [him]," (Pg 44). That passage goes on to say that we never know how heavy that burden is until we are held close to the real possibility, then that is when we discover how seriously we had meant it. Oh man did I mean it with all of me. I wanted to take it all from him. The grief and pain.
"It was allowed to One, we are told, and I find I can now believe again, that He has done vicariously whatever can be so done. He replies to our babble, 'You cannot and you dare not. I could and dared," (Pg 44).
As much as I truly wanted to take it all, I couldn't. But He did. And I trust that He has Mark in his gentle, loving, caring arms and He is taking care of him.
My Creator could and He did.
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