Pondering Loss and Living

I have dealt with my share of loss. Everyone has. No need to compare. 

Earlier today something that I looked at reminded me that my dad died about this time of the year. I have a hard time recalling specific dates, I don't commit such details to memory. So I looked it up.

Kelly Henson Cyrus died on November 19, 2002. It was 18 years ago today. I'm not sure why, but God led me down this path this morning and now, here I am - remembering, pondering my father and my loss and life. There are feelings of grief and sadness. It's okay, I'm not afraid of those feelings or of the tears. Tears are a God-given means of experiencing various aspects of life. Both sadness and joy. Tears can be cleansing and can often open the door for healing. As I ponder my loss, and also my life, I long for clarity and more awareness.

Loss could be the byword for the year 2020.

18 years ago today I was nearly finished with my first semester of seminary (which had been brutal on it's own). My wife and I, along with two small girls, had picked up and moved to Louisville on August 1st, leaving everything familiar in West Virginia. We learned about my dad's cancer after we moved. It had spread. He knew, but told no one. It was sometime in September, as I recall, that he let others know. His plan was to finish out his days at home, on his terms. Which is perfectly okay. Actually, that is perhaps the most honorable way to do it. My dad  had done everything he wanted to do, or at least what he could manage to do in his 82 years. Up to the end, he had spent the previous 20 years in his garden, fishing and running his dogs. He enjoyed it all. He read his Bible, and walked with Jesus, and engaged with his family. He loved us as best as he could manage. He was an imperfect human being. Like me. And you.

I think my grief is tied to the loss of time with him - good time, in my judgement. I can clearly see three phases of my life and relationship with him, each spanning about 18 years. I missed out on some things in the first 18 years of my life, since he was pretty hard on me as a little guy, and we were often at odds during my teenage years. For the next 18 years I was off at college and beginning my adult life, with little significant connection with him. We were not estranged, but I was trying to figure things out and I didn't ask for his help. And of course, even more significant, these last 18 years following his death. Much has happened in my life since 2002, and my father wasn't part of it. But I realize he influenced me in many ways. So he has been part of it. He is part of my story.

My life has been a mix of all the things, the helpful and the hard. There is no way to go back. But I want to learn and grow moving forward. I realize that I did learn in those earlier years. I endured some wounding and, sadly, I inflicted some wounds. Again, I can't change any of those hard things. But I can understand them, feel all the emotions around them, and seek some healing. I can receive God's grace and extend it to others, including my father.

And I can live.

And, as we all know more keenly from recent months, I will continue to experience loss. It's all part of the whole. I believe it is helpful to ponder it all, the loss and the living.