To be a son who loses your Dad is possibly the worst thing I can think of. It's been 24 years since I lost my Dad. It still hurts sometimes like it happened yesterday. I was 9 years old. He didn't battle a long illness; he was ripped away from us.
My parents were divorced when I was a baby. I lived with my mom and my brother. He started again, and I grew up knowing his other children and his wife. She was and is family to me. As a side note, I entirely believe and aim to practice the Church's teachings on sexual ethics. I don't think they should change the teachings on divorce and remarriage, either. That said, it's hard to tut-tut these people I love for not toeing the line.
All the hurt came back for me today, because I heard that a new friend lost his father in the past few days. If I could say one thing to him, it would be this: "Never apologize, even years later, for falling apart now and again over this. You will always be a boy who lost his Daddy, and that's OK to feel it." He's older, so it could be different. But I doubt it.
As a digression, I will never be one of those Catholics who laments our popular culture, at least not the whole thing, and advocates that we only read Great Books and listen to NPR. There are some truths about our lives with God that have been so beautifully captured by movies, TV, and popular music that we can't ignore it. Not to mention that most people we want to reach are steeped in it. I don't want to be corrupted; don't hear what I'm not saying. But I couldn't bring this post home without a little help from the actor-comedian Tim Allen.
Tim Allen had a show years ago called, "Home Improvement." He played Tim Taylor, an oafish guy with a good heart, three boys, and a loyal wife, Jill. He's something of a local celebrity on a home improvement show sponsored by his company, for which he used to sell tools door-to-door. He's accident-prone, and prone to miscommunicate with his wife and family when he forgets to love as he should. But he's got a wise neighbor who sets him straight. It's a really funny show that I can't recall ever being immoral.
One time, Jill's dad comes for Christmas. He's an old military guy, and he and Tim bond being tough guys. Jill feels the tension of his authoritarian ways, however, and Tim misses the boat. Whether in this episode or a later one, Jill's father dies suddenly. At the same time, Tim notices that his teenage boys aren't terribly impressed with their dad. It hurts him.
He tells his neighbor, Wilson, and Wilson points out that Tim lost his father when he was a little boy. Tim is eloquent about idolizing his father; he never had a chance to be his own man. Maybe he would have put the same distance between them as his boys are doing now. But as it happened, Tim's view of his Dad was unalloyed love. I'll never forget this; they hit this exactly right.
Maybe my friend can't say his view is unalloyed, but I can tell that he loved his Dad very much, and he still does. It also looks like he was worthy of his son's love. And what a precious gift! And we share the fact that two young men have committed (or will) their fathers' bodies to the ground in the hope of the resurrection with the aid of the Catholic Church. In my case, I hope in God's unending mercy; my friend only needs to believe the many precious promises we have in Christ.
O God, be near to those who mourn now. Heavenly Father, I rejoice that every family on Earth--every father on Earth--reflects You. When they do it well, as in this case, it brings You great glory, and makes great sons. Wipe away my brother's tears as only You can, and when they flow without end, accept them as an offering of hope and love. Your Son has defeated death by his resurrection, and we hope to share in it, and in His victory, when He returns. By Your Holy Spirit, keep him from despair, and give him joy that surpasses all understanding. Thank you that we are sons, and that You will never go away, and never stop loving us. I pray this through Christ the Lord, Amen.
My parents were divorced when I was a baby. I lived with my mom and my brother. He started again, and I grew up knowing his other children and his wife. She was and is family to me. As a side note, I entirely believe and aim to practice the Church's teachings on sexual ethics. I don't think they should change the teachings on divorce and remarriage, either. That said, it's hard to tut-tut these people I love for not toeing the line.
All the hurt came back for me today, because I heard that a new friend lost his father in the past few days. If I could say one thing to him, it would be this: "Never apologize, even years later, for falling apart now and again over this. You will always be a boy who lost his Daddy, and that's OK to feel it." He's older, so it could be different. But I doubt it.
As a digression, I will never be one of those Catholics who laments our popular culture, at least not the whole thing, and advocates that we only read Great Books and listen to NPR. There are some truths about our lives with God that have been so beautifully captured by movies, TV, and popular music that we can't ignore it. Not to mention that most people we want to reach are steeped in it. I don't want to be corrupted; don't hear what I'm not saying. But I couldn't bring this post home without a little help from the actor-comedian Tim Allen.
Tim Allen had a show years ago called, "Home Improvement." He played Tim Taylor, an oafish guy with a good heart, three boys, and a loyal wife, Jill. He's something of a local celebrity on a home improvement show sponsored by his company, for which he used to sell tools door-to-door. He's accident-prone, and prone to miscommunicate with his wife and family when he forgets to love as he should. But he's got a wise neighbor who sets him straight. It's a really funny show that I can't recall ever being immoral.
One time, Jill's dad comes for Christmas. He's an old military guy, and he and Tim bond being tough guys. Jill feels the tension of his authoritarian ways, however, and Tim misses the boat. Whether in this episode or a later one, Jill's father dies suddenly. At the same time, Tim notices that his teenage boys aren't terribly impressed with their dad. It hurts him.
He tells his neighbor, Wilson, and Wilson points out that Tim lost his father when he was a little boy. Tim is eloquent about idolizing his father; he never had a chance to be his own man. Maybe he would have put the same distance between them as his boys are doing now. But as it happened, Tim's view of his Dad was unalloyed love. I'll never forget this; they hit this exactly right.
Maybe my friend can't say his view is unalloyed, but I can tell that he loved his Dad very much, and he still does. It also looks like he was worthy of his son's love. And what a precious gift! And we share the fact that two young men have committed (or will) their fathers' bodies to the ground in the hope of the resurrection with the aid of the Catholic Church. In my case, I hope in God's unending mercy; my friend only needs to believe the many precious promises we have in Christ.
O God, be near to those who mourn now. Heavenly Father, I rejoice that every family on Earth--every father on Earth--reflects You. When they do it well, as in this case, it brings You great glory, and makes great sons. Wipe away my brother's tears as only You can, and when they flow without end, accept them as an offering of hope and love. Your Son has defeated death by his resurrection, and we hope to share in it, and in His victory, when He returns. By Your Holy Spirit, keep him from despair, and give him joy that surpasses all understanding. Thank you that we are sons, and that You will never go away, and never stop loving us. I pray this through Christ the Lord, Amen.
Comments