Not Meant for Death
It has been a week of goodbyes, of sorrow, and of death. I look out the window as I drive and accidentally veer of the road as my mind wanders away. We let go of our dear friend Captain Bob this week. After a 3 year battle with dementia his body simply did not want to wake any longer, and we gave him permission to sleep and rest, because we felt that it was the "right" and "just" thing to do.
Yet, this part of me aches and longs to save him, to bring him back, to resurrect him. I want to see his calloused hands popping open oysters again, his shaggy hair blowing in the cool breeze as sails luff as we tack, and his kind voice greet me as I walk in the screen door. I want to see his deceased dog, Abby, run across the yard wet from the brackish water of the sound, and see him shake his head at her mischievous ways. I long to hear him say, "geez" and smile as he says, "Pammy" (his soulmate's name). I want him back.
I see this picture of the baby bird falling from the nest and the two parents pulling it back to life and I can't stop thinking that I am not made for this. Letting go, and saying goodbye don't seem to be in my DNA. I would stay among friends and family forever if possible. I would sit with them in the sunshine and eat sliced bread with salted butter, and ice cold Boylan root beer (my favorite foods). I would linger longer. I would be like the mama bird rescuing and bringing others back to the nest. I would never move...never leave a small town...never say goodbye.
Yet, goodbye seems to be my word this week, and I can't get it to sink deep. Instead, it comes out shallow and like I don't mean it.
I go to goodbye parties for work, and watch everyone celebrate my years there, but once again it seems unreal. I don't want to let go of this career, these students, or this place that raised me. Yet, that is what has to happen. I am letting it go because it seems like the right and just thing to do, but it feels unnatural. I want to resurrect it.
Jesus had this belief that there was something more to life then these temporal moments we live in. As I consider his words, I can't help but feel that he was right. Dying is not right. It happens every minute of every day to every species, and yet it feels so wrong. It must be true that eternity is what we are made for, and not endings. May we live into eternity. May we be resurrection people.