Choice and grief

It's been a week since My Father's funeral. One crazy week. Flying to Vancouver with all the snow delays, trying to get around Vancouver in the worst snow in 40 years, arriving home late the night before Christmas eve, one kid throwing up 7 times all night before Christmas, then the busyness of Christmas day and boxing day, the other kid barfing the next day, and yesterday Della and I sick and in bed all day long. Thankfully, I am able to sit up now, and start climbing out of the hole.

It's fair to say my head is still spinning.

Christmas day I did my typical calls to family, and picked up my phone to call my Dad. He wasn't in Alberta much, and would only call me after months, so he was not a part of my daily activities. It's hard to change gears and realize that I can't call any more. I should be able to give him a call, and let him ask me about the weather out here. Ask him how he's doing, and get a short reply of 'hanging in there'. Then silence. Followed by me inventing more conversation starters, and more short answers. Funny that my inability to call him, is what hits me hard.

That really was my father's way: he was always interested in people and chit chat, but it was never deep. Being an usher was perfect for him. The small talk was the bulk of the communication I had with my Dad my whole life. Unfortunately, for me. The loss of my ability to call him brings it all home.

Then at the funeral, some of my fathers' friends from church and colleagues didn't even know he had sons! Let alone 2 ex wives, step children and lived 60+ years under his middle name 'George'. He had been shunned before in a church, and I imagine he dealt with that by simply not giving up too much information. One fellow board member told me he shared his life story with 'John' (the name many in White rock knew him by in the last 7 years) but had no idea that my Father had a family. Arguably his closest friend talked about some of the same things, like how my Father never accepted the fact he was dying. He never complained, but he never shared.

I've known for years there was no chance of relational intimacy with my Father, and in many ways none of this comes as a shock. What I don't think I was ready for was how stubbornly he took it all the way to the grave. I believe it's important to have relationships, and always thought something would change. I never imagined that he would seal himself off so tightly that he would die unconnected to anyone.

I have been processing this in my own life over the last 20 years, but the sense of tragedy is so poignant now. A history of missed opportunity that can never be reversed. It's all lost. He's dead now, and can never share his heart with his sons, or anyone that wanted to have a relationship with him. How could a guy strive his whole life for a deeper relationship with God, follow the examples of Christ, yet miss out on actually having relationships?

I guess some would say that just because he wasn't outwardly warm and vulnerable, doesn't mean he didn't have deep relationships from his perspective. He often told me that he thought we had a really great relationship. I never thought so, and was always dumbfounded when he said that. He had a line, and that was that.

Given the fact that over the course of his life he did no have any kind of deep relationship with anyone: how could he visit with his Savior now? What would be the point of arriving in heaven to visit his Savior and all the Saints after avoiding relationships for a lifetime? Would Christ be interested in small talk and a weather report? I imagine he would have left heaven, irritated at being dead and would be wandering around Uganda now as a spirit, trying to help, even though everyone is ignoring him because they can't see him. I'm not sure he would really notice or care. What could there possibly be to do in heaven where everything is perfect?

I guess I'm just not sure how a man who filled his life with scripture, did his devotions daily, wrestled to hear God's voice daily, abstained from anything 'evil' or 'of the world', never did anything dis-honest, loved the Lord with all his 'heart, soul and strength' could have missed the fact that the whole point is a relationship which involves self awareness and most of all trust and vulnerability. If his goal wasn't surrendering his heart to others openly and by sacrificing his agenda to be Christ to others, I'm just not sure what it was. Is doing stuff good? Or is that just busy?

Yet it is God that knows and judges the heart. I don't know how God does that, and I don't pretend to be able to judge now. If God wants us to make choices, and we are free to choose, then we cannot judge other people's choices. Perhaps just being left with a sense of tragedy is what grief is all about. Maybe we don't get to choose why.