It has been one week since the middle of the night phone call; One of THOSE moments when I was wrestled away from sleep. My wife was already speaking to the person calling by the time my brain cells organized into a coherent mass. As I listened in I realized it was my son in law who called. Panic struck me. My daughter, his wife, was in her 16th week of pregnancy. She had had two miscarriages just last year. At sixteen weeks we hoped we were in the clear. But it was not so.
We live a ten minute drive from their home. Blurred driving. Panicked thoughts. I was in the help mode quickly arranging all my thought and emotional life into neat little compartments so I could be available for our children and my wife in a time of crisis. Deep sorrow was staged in the wings waiting for it’s cue.
We arrived. A minute or two passed before my son in law could get to us and unlock the door. Our six and four year old grandchildren were still sound asleep in their bunk beds unaware of the tragedy that was unfolding twelve feet away from them. Our precious daughter and son in law had already weathered a panicked call to Kaiser Hospital, had worked together to deliver a promise of life that had taken a different path. The real life that unfolded and melded into ours crushed any thought I had of compartmentalizing my inner self. All compartments were shattered. Deep sorrow was center stage.
As a multi decade addict I had the compartmentalizing down to a science. It was one of my best (in my eyes) coping mechanisms I had. It allowed me to be dull to the events around me. Dull to the way addiction’s effects ravaged my life and the lives of any who tried to have a relationship with me. I could be emotionally unattached in the most extreme circumstances and appear to be in complete control of all my faculties. During recovery I came to realize how unhealthy this was. I became very intentional about setting aside this coping mechanism and learned to be fully present for life as it unfolded. As one who now loves deeply, and feels deeply, there was no way to “be in control” during this crisis.
That night my wife and I held in our hands our grandchild. This would be the only moment that we would share with this precious child. How overwhelmed was my heart. Full of a grandfather's love and filling up with grief at the exact same moment. My daughter had wrapped their child in a washcloth. A small body tucked into the folds of fabric. Her husband, our son, adopted into our family and hearts through marriage, stood with her as we held each other.
Somewhere through the fog of trauma and pain Papagod's arms reached out and embraced our hearts. Was he weeping with us? This I know- He was being exactly who he is for all of us, Perfect love extravagantly poured out in this moment, the next hours, days and weeks. This gift of life was with Him now. In this time of unimaginable trauma and grief there was a path that we would each began to walk.
I wept for my daughter and son who delivered their tiny baby at home, not fully formed and yet fully baby, a child loved and rejoiced over for months. I wept for my grandchildren who at six and four years old where excited about their new sibling. They were still fast asleep as this long night continued on. I thought, “What words and comfort may we give them as they awake to a new day in a few hours?” I wept for us, my wife and I who looked forward to another precious addition to our family. We already loved this child.
The path I began to walk that night was with deep love and deep sorrow embracing as they walked hand in hand through my heart, through our family. Our kids took the small bundle and headed to the hospital to get treatment for our daughter. My wife and I stayed behind, embracing each other and weeping off and on, sleeping a little on their couch. When our grandchildren awoke in the morning we would need great wisdom and strength to convey to them the events of the night. Grandparenting 101 never prepared us for this situation. Thankfully the presence of Papagod's unfailing love was felt more deeply than ever before.
We live a ten minute drive from their home. Blurred driving. Panicked thoughts. I was in the help mode quickly arranging all my thought and emotional life into neat little compartments so I could be available for our children and my wife in a time of crisis. Deep sorrow was staged in the wings waiting for it’s cue.
We arrived. A minute or two passed before my son in law could get to us and unlock the door. Our six and four year old grandchildren were still sound asleep in their bunk beds unaware of the tragedy that was unfolding twelve feet away from them. Our precious daughter and son in law had already weathered a panicked call to Kaiser Hospital, had worked together to deliver a promise of life that had taken a different path. The real life that unfolded and melded into ours crushed any thought I had of compartmentalizing my inner self. All compartments were shattered. Deep sorrow was center stage.
As a multi decade addict I had the compartmentalizing down to a science. It was one of my best (in my eyes) coping mechanisms I had. It allowed me to be dull to the events around me. Dull to the way addiction’s effects ravaged my life and the lives of any who tried to have a relationship with me. I could be emotionally unattached in the most extreme circumstances and appear to be in complete control of all my faculties. During recovery I came to realize how unhealthy this was. I became very intentional about setting aside this coping mechanism and learned to be fully present for life as it unfolded. As one who now loves deeply, and feels deeply, there was no way to “be in control” during this crisis.
That night my wife and I held in our hands our grandchild. This would be the only moment that we would share with this precious child. How overwhelmed was my heart. Full of a grandfather's love and filling up with grief at the exact same moment. My daughter had wrapped their child in a washcloth. A small body tucked into the folds of fabric. Her husband, our son, adopted into our family and hearts through marriage, stood with her as we held each other.
Somewhere through the fog of trauma and pain Papagod's arms reached out and embraced our hearts. Was he weeping with us? This I know- He was being exactly who he is for all of us, Perfect love extravagantly poured out in this moment, the next hours, days and weeks. This gift of life was with Him now. In this time of unimaginable trauma and grief there was a path that we would each began to walk.
I wept for my daughter and son who delivered their tiny baby at home, not fully formed and yet fully baby, a child loved and rejoiced over for months. I wept for my grandchildren who at six and four years old where excited about their new sibling. They were still fast asleep as this long night continued on. I thought, “What words and comfort may we give them as they awake to a new day in a few hours?” I wept for us, my wife and I who looked forward to another precious addition to our family. We already loved this child.
The path I began to walk that night was with deep love and deep sorrow embracing as they walked hand in hand through my heart, through our family. Our kids took the small bundle and headed to the hospital to get treatment for our daughter. My wife and I stayed behind, embracing each other and weeping off and on, sleeping a little on their couch. When our grandchildren awoke in the morning we would need great wisdom and strength to convey to them the events of the night. Grandparenting 101 never prepared us for this situation. Thankfully the presence of Papagod's unfailing love was felt more deeply than ever before.
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