Mother, Interrupted

Six years ago today--already enough years in the cycle to have gone around the week--our beloved son Jeremy, trying to save his dog, accidentally slid off a cliff and into Eternity.

Time does not heal. Sometimes it cruelly slices into itself, demanding the present return to the past and feel the void of the future. Sometimes it mocks the living, either fading or exaggerating memories. Always and ever it represents the chasm between those who left and those who remain: all that was and cannot be revisited; and all that was not and can never be experienced.

Ultimately, though, time cannot fully steal. The love that was known remains unextinguished. The fullness of the unique life that was his can never be denied.

I celebrate Jeremy's life every day of my own. On this day, I recall that he went for a hike with his close friends because an irresistible day of splendor in early Spring called him out of his bed and to his final destiny. I marvel that he, who lived with suffering and death so close at hand after having his kidneys destroyed by the horrible train incident when he was 14, stepped out of time and into his Father's arms so quickly and painlessly. Irish and I hold each other close, even closer today and weep again...not only for our loss, but also from from the joy of the unshakable confidence that unites our spirits with his even across time and dimension: "I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE."