Loss

There have been a number of things swirling about me that I have attempted to grab onto and write. Politics is the course de jour these days: Bush – Kerry – Cheney – Edwards all reach the daily public discourse. Custody battles and the real losers in divorce, or the ravages of office politics all of these cross again and again vying to reach the page.

Then, I was stopped this morning when I received the bittersweet message that my estranged friends’ daughter passed from the pain and sorrow of this life to see her Savior face to face in eternal glory. I would that I could write of the triumphs, struggles, and glorious peace this family faced over the three and a half years of chemo but it is not my right.

Over the last two years I have only been able to follow her struggles from a web page. Her parents, my estranged friends, were part of the group that came to my work to take me for a ‘time-out’. It was their van that pulled up with a police car following behind and told me like a caring family tells the crazy person, the raging drug addict or alcoholic come with us it is for your own good… we care and want what is best for you. With the best motives they all had planned what I would do to keep me from hurting others or myself.

The unfortunate aspect of the whole incident was they never spoke to me as a friend. They never asked my side of the story. They never called after to see if I was struggling. They took a side, my ex-wife’s side and never looked back. I didn’t get in the van to go to my adult ‘time-out’. I took my belongings and went home.

I am not angry or bitter over the loss of friends. I understand the position they took, protect the weak (my ex-wife). I understand they had to struggle with a daughter fighting the ravages of leukemia and an autistic son who didn’t understand why his sister had to hurt. I know part of why they took the stand they did and it is ok. I also know that nothing will ever replace their daughter and for this loss I weep with them.

I saw the husband last month at the hospital, one of my family members had surgery and was recovering on the same floor his daughter was being treated. I went and asked him if he wanted to talk to me because, if not, I could leave. He invited me in and we spoke for a few moments but it seemed strained. As I took my leave I shook the hand of my estranged friend and told him they would be in my prayers.

On Sunday the 15th of August 2004, God called home his daughter and answered many prayers. I weep with the knowledge that one day I will see this sweet girl again in Heaven and I hope this friendship will not have to wait until that day to find restoration. Yet, if that is God’s will I am resigned to it and will look forward to the day we all will be reunited as friends.