The next bittersweet event

My dad loved April 24th.  If you read my previous blog, you’ve seen how abundantly clear that fact is.  He loved telling others about how God healed me from the debilitating effects of Infantile Spasms.  We have made it a special tradition to annually celebrate God’s miraculous touch that He displayed in my life on April 24th, 1982.  It is for this reason that this April has a bittersweet component to it.  Dad isn’t with us to celebrate this year.  Like the first Christmas, Thanksgiving, Super Bowl, and Easter, this April 24 is yet another first.  It reminds me of the loss.  It reminds of his absence.  It reminds me of the void in my life.

My grief continues.  And, the way I see it, that’s as it should be.  David Kessler, in his helpful booklet, “When a Parent Dies” is apt when he writes, “Grief is the reflection of the connection that has been lost.  That loss does not diminish because you are an adult or because your mother or father lived a long life.  Our society places enormous pressure on us to get over loss, to get through the grief.  But how long do you grieve for the man who was your father for 30 years?  Do you grieve less for your mother of 50 years?  The loss happens in a moment, but its aftermath lasts a lifetime.  The grief is real because loss is real.”

I love that whole quote, but look again at the beginning line: “Grief is the reflection of the connection that has been lost.”  A fundamental connection has been lost in my life.

I will always thank God for healing me from Infantile Spasms when I was a baby.  But this year is different.  This year’s celebration is mingled with sadness.  It’s a painful reality.  Another great line from that citation is this: “the loss happens in a moment, but its aftermath lasts a lifetime.”  How true; how very true!

Kevin