“At last, where have you been?”
-C3PO, Star Wars Episode IV
For the past 11 days, I’ve been absent from my blogs, from Twitter, from the web in general. The companionship of my computer was supplanted by the companionship of struggle, and of family.
Last week, the long, slow march of congestive heart failure claimed the life of my step-father, Gene, and for me, there is no writing at a time like that. In fact, normal life came to a sudden halt 4 days before his death, and my typical flurry of activity and responsibility was simplified to 4 days of trying to be a comfort to him and to other family members.
Waiting. Watching.
One day, I want to write about the beauty of how God provided at such a difficult time. I’d like to share that with you.
But not now.
I will share one thing, however. Gene died at home in the gentle care of family and of Hospice. His house is not huge, but the layout of the rooms means that there is a long hallway to the bedrooms. During those quiet days of waiting and watching and going in and out of Gene’s room, I thought about how long that hallway is and how long his struggle had been… how he missed my mother, and how I had wept for him in recent months when confusion or discomfort had the upper hand.
After he died, we turned on more lights and bustled up and down that long hall more noisily than when death was near. It was then that I thought about the decorations that my mother had chosen so many years ago for the end of that long hallway.
At the end of the long hallway, there is Joy.
Infirmity and age can be unkind, but at the end of the long hallway, there is Joy.
Sadness comes, as does regret and doubt. But at the end of the long hallway, there is Joy.
Loneliness or confusion tear away at the fabric of inner peace. But at the end of the long hallway, there is Joy.
Gene long ago lost the strength and independence that he once cherished. His failing heart stole many things from him, but nothing could steal the wild, joyful stability of the Gift that Jesus had won for him on the cross, and it’s a Gift he will now enjoy forever.
For Gene, the struggle is already forgotten.
At the end of the long hallway, there is Joy.
How beautiful with the way you write things.Your heart is so loving and big. thank you for all you have done for our Family. Dad finally got a son and it was you. with love Marije
There isn’t a “hey thanks” that covers a comment like that. It’s very sweet and means the world to me.
Love, JT
Oh JT:
I’m so sorry for your loss.
But this: “At the end of the long hallway, there is Joy.”
If you truly believe that, let that comfort you. And thank goodness that he is not suffering any more.
What a wonderful step-son you are. You were both so lucky to have each other.
I’m not sure at all about “wonderful,” but thank you. I am certain of the Joy at the end of the hall, so there is comfort while there is still loss.
Thanks for your kind words and your encouragement. I consider it a privilege to share parts of this journey with folks like you from all over the place.
Well said.
Well, thank you!
We all express our love, prayers
and deepest sympathy to you and your family.
Love,
Paul, Jen and your Family at
Church
Thanks Paul, Jen and everybody!
I’m sorry you’re having to go through this. Praying for comfort for you and your family.
Thanks, that means a lot.