Come Ye Disconsolate

disconsolate: without consolation; unhappy; cheerless; dejected; downcast


gpops.jpg

Besides Jo Banks (my dad) and Bill Cosby, the only other man I had ever wished was my father is my god daddy.  I looked up to him in ways I will probably never look up to another man again.  He did not intrude but when he saw a need for a father in our lives, he stepped right in and assumed the position.  Although there were times I did not agree with him, he would frequently remind me that I had a biological dad. No matter what was going on, he  encouraged me to honor him as my father.  As a child I did not understand but with maturity I began to admire my god-father for that particular lesson.

         Come ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish

Unfortunately, the man who swiftly became my hero was called home to be with THE father.  As expected, devastation permeated my body, my braid and most definitely my heart.  Of all people for God to remove from my life, He chose one of the ones I never even imagined loosing.  "he's in a better place."  "He's no longer suffering".  "You'll see him again one day".

Come to the mercy seat, fervent kneel

There is something so peculiar about death that makes most of us suddenly become selfish, self centered and self absorbed.  I was at that place until this very moment.  How come God had to take him at such critical time in my life? I just got married.  I have a baby boy on the way.  I am experiencing spiritual growing pains.  Who is supposed to coach me through all of this?  I completely made it all about me.  To be honest, I am not positive I have completely allowed all my selfish thoughts to diminish.  For once I was not angry at God but I did not hesitate in questioning Him.  Is that ok?

Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish

I have just realized that I have allowed myself to put on an act; choosing not to display any obvious emotions regarding my god father's death.  I have not spoken about it.  I have not even entertained conversations about his death.  Pieces of me are unconsciously repressing his death.  The others are taking a different approach.  Somewhere between my god daddy's wake/viewing and the repast I was reminded that I had to try to remain strong.  I am carrying a baby and my god-mother needed us to be strong for her. Uh... this wasn't about me?

In that moment it dawned on me, in previous experiences with death, I magnified death.  Not that I was celebrating to the death of my loved ones but I made their deaths more important than their lives.  While trying not to repress my feelings, I am also learning not to glorify the death of my hero but to truly celebrate his live.  I am learning to glean all the lessons he taught and use those as motivation and inspirations to move forward.

Like most new things, this new approach is not simple but I am committed to healing, differently.  I am convinced that I will probably never come to grips with the fact my god-father is gone.  I do know that somewhere there will be a peace about it and I am on a mission to find it.

Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal