Saturday, December 21, 2013

I'll Be Seeing You...

 
 
 
"He saw the world in pencil."
 
 

 
 
That is what my son said as he admired his cousin's drawings.
 
I've been srtuggling to write something since that awful day two weeks ago. But nothing I put down can say everything that needs to be said. Nor can it give credit, and, dignity, and depth to the feelings of everyone who cared for him. So I'm not even going to try. I'll just show a glimpse.
 
In a way, it's fitting that art, his art, is really the best way to say goodbye. He was't just about his art, there was much more to him. But it was where he and I had our best connection, I felt.
 
He didn't talk to me about his feelings or big ambitions in life. We didn't always see eye to eye, and even sometimes went head to head. But, from time to time, he showed me his art. And it was these times, that I could best see his heart.
 
It was here that he could fold and bend time and space and color and shadow and give the rest of us a glimpse at how he saw the world. It was here I could best see his attention to detail, his calm, and his tenderness. His pulse of sorts.  He didnt do it to gain approval. He did it because enjoyed it, he loved it.
 
And indeed. In many ways, he saw the world in pencil. Simple. Powerful. Beautiful. And sometimes, intense. 
 
 
 

 
I'm no expert, but I have no doubt he was gifted. He was a true artist. So I'm glad he did it a lot.
 
 
 

 
For a while now, several months in fact, I was planning to ask him to draw a portrait of each of my children. Now I'm going to have to wait.
 
I am still in shock. And then the sadness creeps up. And then the ache.
 
A like a painting only partially done, you could see what was coming and you anticipated with excitement and hope to see the final result. Then suddenly and without warning the canvas is just gone.
 
Only this stabs much deeper.
 
But I have hope. And I am comforted. I am so grateful to serve and know our loving God, Jehovah. Who is pained the same way we are when these tragedies happen. And now, more than ever, I deeply appreciate His promise to reunite loved ones, right here on our home that he created with such love, that we love so much, but without the pains of this system.
 
 
Christian, I think this is a tiny corner of Paradise. And I eagerly await the time that we might sit together on this bench, and you can teach me to draw.
 
 
 
***
 
  
I always have, and always will, my nephew, love you. 
 
 
Revelation 21:3,4 ; John 5:28,29 ; Psalms 37:10,11,29 ; Job 14: 14,15

3 comments:

  1. I have been waiting for the words. They just can't come. You and others are touching on the edges, feeling our way through this rawness, gentle sun through rain of tears. There he is, in my faithful old truck, on the edge of Tomorrow....

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