Do You Realize?

Emily: Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?--every, every minute?
Stage Manager: No. Saints and poets, maybe--they do some.

You probably recognize those lines from Our Town...more useless trivia (I guess some would disgree with that, since many consider it a classic) bubbling up - usually early in the morning.

When I wake up, I have trouble going back to sleep. Stare at the clock. Fight the impulse to go and peek in on the Boy(s) to make sure they are sleeping peacefully. Still breathing. That everything is ok. One of those things most parents have done - or do. One of the things that you don't really consider when you think about being a parent. The amount of worry. Our Boy(s) are still pretty young, and bound to us and the home. I can only imagine what it is like, as the get older, and start going into the world on their own. Getting farther, and farther away from you - yet still needing your guidance, support and love - even thought they don't know they need it...probably don't even want it at times. Trying to protect them. These thoughts make me want to hold on and never let go...

We have a friend who had to let go - at least in the physical sense - he lost his 15 year old daughter this past Thursday. This has to be the worst thing you could ever imagine happening to someone. Death is always sad...but a parent burying a child is grievous, beyond words. In talking with people, when I tell them about this, they always ask How? Why? What Happened? I didn't think much about it at first, but the more I've been asked, I started to wonder why was that the first thing people always asked?? The how and why can't change the outcome. Make it less sad. Take it back. Why? How?

I think it is in our nature to ask these questions. I think we search for answers, hoping that those answers, reasons, can encapsulate the tragedy, and that the knowledge can somehow protect us. Someone said, Knowledge is power. But I wonder...is it really?

There is another quote bubbling up from my subconscious. Unlike the one from Our Town, I can't quite remember this one, who said it, where I heard it, if it is even a quote. I keep thinking of it...like an itch I can't scratch. Goes something like this: "but by the Grace of God that is me." If you know it, I'd appreciate a scratch in the form of an email. Be good to know what I'm thinking about when it wakes me up early in the morning, playing in the background as I remember this.

In March 2002, I went out after work for the first time since the Elder Boy had arrived. Grab a quick drink with a friend. Shop talk swung to family talk, and the conversation went to new fatherhood. The friend, father of three, been there done that. Diapers, bottles, no sleep, etc. Talk swung to other subjects and then, he brought up that someone he knew had recently lost a child, a baby. As soon as he had said it, I could sense that he realized he probably shouldn't have told a new father this story. He quickly tried to ease my fears, by going into how rare it was for this to happen, etc. In all honesty, his voice became like a parent (or teacher) in a Peanuts cartoon (if you dig that reference) as I considered what he told me, a cold chill running down my spine. Thinking the unthinkable. I quickly shook it off as I tuned back into what he was saying to me - in time to hear him say "...it is rare for a parent to lose a child."

Two and a half years later, on an early July morning, he lost a child. Died in his very arms - and no amount of holding on could prevent it.

Not your typical light, fluffy Team Tinsley post. Down right morbid I guess...but it is what is on my mind, and I just can't seem to shake it. I ache deeply for my friend. My heart breaks for his family's loss. I think a quote (yet another - but a very good one) from A River Runs Through it is fitting to end this here post.

Each one of us here today will at one time in our lives look upon a loved one who is in need and ask the same question: We are willing help, but what, if anything, is needed? For it is true we can seldom help those closest to us. Either we don't know what part of ourselves to give or, more often than not, the part we have to give is not wanted. And so it those we live with and should know who elude us. But we can still love them - we can love completely without complete understanding.

If you want to read my friends powerful eulogy for his daughter - you can find it here. He had the courage, the strength to stand in front of hundreds and read it at her funeral.

Until I BLOG again...Peace.

Update: As is often the case, my friend, the grandest DH of them all, DHdN (read: Brian) scratched my itch. Per the above quote that I was trying to get.

William Booth was a pawnbroker who felt the pain of poor people who had to pawn their treasured possessions to stay alive. He felt the call of God to help the poor and underprivileged. At a Quaker's meeting in a tent in an abandoned graveyard, he gave his testimony and began his ministry to down-and-outers, the Salvation Army. One night he and his son Bramwell were walking past the pub at Miles End Waste. The door flew open and they could see the carousing drunks inside. Booth said to his son, "There, but for the grace of God, go I." Thanks DH.