So sad.
Really it’s all so sad.
I am just overwhelmed by sadness.
What pushes people to that point?
Is it that we didn’t show them enough love?
Is it that we didn’t show them
that we would, in fact,
be there for them when they needed us?
Is it that they didn’t believe it?
Why didn’t he pick the phone and call someone,
call us?
Why didn’t he drive to a friend’s house?
Why didn’t he go to the hospital emergency room
and tell them
he was afraid he might hurt himself?
What happens?
How do people get so filled with sadness
that they decide to take their own life?
I’m filled with a sadness
that words simply cannot express.
Am I sad
because I loved him like my own son?
Am I sad
because my sons lost a very dear friend?
Am I sad
because his mother and father
experience this tragedy?
Am I sad
because his older brother
and younger sister
lost someone dear to them?
Am I sad
because I worry that we didn’t do enough,
weren’t there for him,
when he might have needed us?
An overwhelming sadness. .
. . .like waves of water
that rush in to drown. . .
. . .a sadness that streams from eyes.
Maybe am I sad
because a young person
was so in despair
that he took his own life.
I never met his mother.
While growing up
he lived with his father and step-mother.
Yet,
I feel a sorrow beyond comprehension
for his mother.
She brought him into this world,
into life.
If a woman loses her husband
she is a widow.
What is she if she loses her son?
. . .a sadness that is so tremendous,
a sadness that overwhelms.
I’m surrounded by memories.
He helped repair my front steps
in the old house.
He helped us move
here to this house.
He practically lived with us
when my sons were in high school.
He ate and showered
and did his laundry at our house.
I bought him Christmas gifts
as if he were my own son.
I remember when he got his driver’s license.
I remember telling him to
always where his seat belt.
Don’t drink and drive.
One would have thought
I was his mother.
We shared all of life’s up and downs. .
. . .like family.
I guess these are the times
when one realizes
that family
has absolutely nothing to do with blood
but everything to do with love.
I loved him
like my own son.
And now he is dead.
As of the writing of this blog post
we do not know
the funeral arrangements.
What can I do?
What can anyone do?
As a pastoral musician
I can only do
that which comes so natural to me.
You know,
this morning on my facebook
I was asking my fb friends
to offer suggestions
on ways to celebrate
30 years in ministry.
Right now,
that doesn’t seem so important anymore.
What can I do?
I can sing
all of those songs
Nick was unable to sing
during his final moments of life.
I can sing today
and the weeks to come.
I will sing during all of Lent
and sing him right into
the Resurrection Promise of Easter Sunday.
. . . .Today. . . .Tomorrow. . .
Forever I will sing. . .
“Softy and tenderly Jesus is calling
calling for you and for me. . . .
. . . Come home. . .”
“Jesus, remember me
when you come into your kingdom . . .”
“ . . .blest are you who weep and morn
for one day you shall laugh. . .”
“. .. . . For to his angels he's given a command
to guard you in all of your ways. . .”
Nick,
May the angels lead into paradise.
May the martyrs come to welcome you
and take you to the Holy City,
the new and eternal Jerusalem.
