Tell them right now.

A few weeks ago, I was informed that a friend from my past had died, and a memorial service was to be held at one of my former parishes. For several years we had been good friends.  She came over for holiday dinners, went to baseball games with the hubby and kids; took care of the dog when we went on vacation, and drew up our will...she was a lawyer.
As things sometimes happen, we wound up on opposite sides of a rather sticky situation.  We met to talk it out. She presented me with a ultimatum, a caveat, a requirement that she decided  I had to meet in order for our friendship to continue. This caveat was dependent on my relationship with a third party, one she felt she had to protect. I said I would not, and could not do what she insisted I had to do in order to remain in any kind of fellowship. She informed me that our friendship was over and walked out. She chose to sacrifice our friendship for the support of others she felt beholden to.  We never spoke again.
At her funeral, I felt some pangs of guilt, but realized that we all make our choices in life, and sometimes we are not the focal point in the lives of others. People come into and out of our lives.  They do things we like; they do things we hate.  Sometimes we understand why they do what they do, and other times we just don't get it.

This afternoon I attended a memorial service for the son of a parishioner who had committed suicide. This was a man in the prime of his life...44 years old who was trying to reconnect with his son and his son's mother.  His family, especially his father and brother, finally recognized that he was suffering from depression and had attempted to get him some real assistance in dealing with his personal demons.

I had met this man when his Mom died and he arranged her funeral. He was charming and confident.  He handled every detail and was a remarkable presence at her funeral service. He was the rock for the rest of the family.  What happened?

Because of things beyond his control he later felt that he was not living up to his potential; that he could have done things better. His depression made it impossible for him to see that he was loved, honored and respected by many folk who knew him.  The darkness had consumed him so very much that he could not see the brightness he had bought to the lives of family and friends who truly loved and cared for him. Depression is a terrible thing.  I have seen its effects on many friends, acquaintances and family members. The heartache it brings is all consuming.So many people at the memorial service spoke about how his mere presence in their lives made them better people. He should have heard that; I think it would have made a difference in his life.

Wonder what the lesson is here? Don't cut off your nose despite your face.  Don't put restrictions and caveats on friendship.  You will lose in the end.  And, just as important, let those you love and respect know how much you value their presence in your life.

Musing while waiting

Sitting in an airport lounge with a long wait between flights gives one the chance to sit back, nap(if you can), take a mental break from the daily routine, and do so much needed reflection.
The past few weeks have brought changes to the lives of several family members,as well as for me personally. After fifteen years of working in the certification unit of the Department of education after school and during the summer, I have fully retired. A meniscus issue has made trudging up and down subway steps uncomfortable at the very least and unfailingly painful at its most difficult. It was not a difficult decision in the long run because for the past two years the earnings from this part-time job put me in a higher tax bracket and my tax guy, Dave, made me solemnly promise that I would leave the job once my contractual obligation was up. It was a good ride and I met great people who worked for one of the largest bureaucracies on earth. And you know what? They were caring professionals who became concerned about the employees they worked with and for. I will miss them.

Additionally, I am cycling off a national board that I served for six years. With the work of a co-chair and design team, we put together an international meeting of religious leaders in Minnesota, no mean feat when you realize I live in New York and my partner in this endeavor lives in Baltimore. We did it mostly by phone,email and limited face-to-face encounters.

Unfortunately, another change was the result of a family tragedy. A young adult member of our family tragically suffered an accidental death. Although this was a devastating event, the consolation was a drawing close of family members from near and far encircling his parents an billings with affection and a quiet strength that I hope will sustain time through the difficult days they will face in the months to come. We know that the grif and loss will not disappear over time. They will scab and callous over, only to be reopened at unexpected moments. The world has changed for them and for us, but time still moves on....Weddings will happen; babies will be born, and new people will come into our lives who will not remember him, but still we will. And we will wish he could be with us to share these new moments.

I am currently reading a book called "The Lost" . It is a memoir written by the grandson of Holocaust survivors who searched to piece together the lives of six relatives who perished in the war in Eastern Europe. In one part his brother who is traveling with him on this quest to speak to those who knew his uncle, aunt and four cousins, says that the Their deaths are never final because there is always a void, a hole or bear spot on the family tree left there by their untimely exit from this life. And I think that is what happens to families who lose members unexpectedly. What family hasn't?

What is constant in this transitory life is that change is inevitable; sometimes we control it,but any times we do not. Change can be painful, but having an anchored spiritual base can help us endure those changes that causes pain, and accept those that bring new opportunities.


I wrote this two weeks ago before my recent trip to the Fjords of Norway.  More on that later.



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